In the world of independent book stores, South Park’s Book Catapult was a rare success story – until last month, when it all came crashing down.

On Jan. 27, the shop’s co-owner Seth Marko underwent open heart surgery to repair a life-threatening issue with his aorta. His wife and business partner, Jennifer Powell stayed by his side. At the same time, their sole full-time employee, Vanessa Diaz, was sidelined by the avian flu.

No one was left to run the business.

So Book Catapult closed – until Jan. 30, when it re-opened, staffed by unpaid employees of other book stores.


Ever since, volunteers have been greeting customers, making recommendations, ringing up sales for a rival. Some have even provided childcare for the couple’s 3-year-old daughter.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” Powell said. “Everybody has helped us.”

Third places

Libraries could be filled with stories predicting the death of the independent book store. Warehouse-like chain stores, like Barnes & Noble, have siphoned off customers. Online vendors like Amazon offer overnight delivery of the latest best sellers.

Across the country, shops have closed by the thousands. San Diego’s casualties include downtown’s Wahrenbrock’s; Hillcrest’s Fifth Avenue Books; and numerous outposts in Normal Heights, from paperback peddler Safari to the macabre Grounds for Murder.


Coronado’s Bay Books, South County’s last indy, has lost its lease in Coronado and is struggling to survive.

For awhile, statistics seemed to support this tale of woe. In 1989, there were about 3,900 book stores in the U.S.

“And we were just shy of 1,400 by 2008,” said John Evans, co-owner of Los Angeles’ DIESEL, A Bookstore. “Some if it was generational, as people who opened bookstores in the ’60s and ’70s retired. A lot of it was due to the big chains and the effect of Amazon.”

Since 2008, though, the trend has reversed. The American Booksellers Association reports there are now 2,470 stores, meaning more than 1,000 have debuted in the past decade.


“A lot of these are small neighborhood book stores,” Evans said, “which everyone wants — or people who are readers want.”

At their best, such shops are “third places,” treasured spots outside the home and the workplace that offer a sense of belonging. Owners and staff know the community and their customers, catering to local tastes.

“Seth’s an incredible curator of books,” said Aaryn Belfer, a Book Catapult customer. “They are very mindful to bring in books for all people, all cultures.”

While Barnes & Noble may tout the latest James Patterson bestseller, Book Catapult promotes first-time authors (Johannes Lichtman will visit the shop to discuss his debut novel, “Such Good Work,” Tuesday at 7:30 p.m.) and local writers (San Diego’s Robin Kardon, author of “Flygirl,” is on the Catapult calendar for Feb. 22).


Scott Ehrig-Burgess , the manager of the Library Shop at San Diego’s central library, is a friend of the Book Catapult’s owners. When he learned of Marko’s operation, he called Powell.

“This is not something you need to worry about,” he told her, referring to running a business. “Just make sure Seth gets better and be by his side.”

Then Ehrig-Burgess made some calls. In short order, he had a long list of volunteer staffers: Julie Slavinsky, director of events at Warwick’s, the La Jolla book store; Marianne Reiner, owner of Ocean Beach’s new book shop, Run For Cover; Tracy Rutherford, a former Warwick’s employee; even Evans and Alison Reid, co-owners of L.A.’s DIESEL.

All agreed to work shifts at Book Catapult.


Others, including Kristi Ehrig-Burgess, Scott’s wife, helped care for the couple’s young daughter.

Why assist a business rival?

“Technically we are competitors,” Slavinsky said. “But it’s such a close community. We’re all people and we’re all friends.”

Wheeled away

Marko, 43, is a familiar figure in the book trade, having worked for Warwick’s and UC San Diego’s book store. Even now, Book Catapult is a sideline — he’s a full-time sales representative for Ingram Publisher Services, selling books to book stores.


“He’s an important part of Southern California book selling,” DIESEL’s Evans said. “He’s just a great guy.”

The week of Jan. 22, he, Powell and Diaz attended an American Booksellers Association convention in Albuquerque, New Mexico. They were preparing to fly back to San Diego that Friday when Marko complained of chest pains.

Tests run at an urgent care facility in Albuquerque didn’t show anything alarming. Marko was cleared to fly home that Saturday, but ordered to see his own doctor.

On Sunday, he did. More tests were run, and then a CT scan revealed something lethal. His aorta, the artery on top of the heart’s left ventricle, was failing.


“I was at the store,” Powell said. “Seth calls from the hospital. He said, ‘They told me it’s probably a good idea for you to get up here.’”

She closed the shop, found someone to care for the couple’s daughter, and raced to UC San Diego’s Sulpizio Cardiovascular Center. The surgical team was assembled, Marko was prepped and Powell was trying to stay calm.

“Seth reassured me he was coming back,” she said, “and then they wheeled him away.”

That was around 4:30 p.m. He was out of surgery by 1:30 a.m. Everything had gone well and his prognosis is excellent. Still, he’ll need at least six weeks of rest.


“We are fortunate,” Powell said. “Both Seth’s mom and my dad have been able to come here. That will enable me to get back to the store next week, maybe part time.”

Whenever. There’s no rush.

“We’ll chip in as long as we need to,” said Warwick’s Slavinsky.

‘I want to help’

Except for Monday, when the Book Catapult is normally closed, the shop stayed open every day last week. Still, it’s not quite business as usual.


Belfer, one of the few non-book store veterans taking a shift, made some rookie mistakes.

“I tried not to give away too much free stuff,” said the San Diego CityBeat columnist. “It took awhile to learn how to properly run the credit card machine.”

Diaz recovered sufficiently to return to work on Thursday, while Scott Ehrig-Burgess continues to schedule volunteers.

Rutherford has been picking up regular four-hour shifts. On Friday, Reiner abandoned her fledgling shop in Ocean Beach to staff Book Catapult. DIESEL’s Evans and Reid drove down from L.A. to work there over the weekend.


Customers have returned and the phone rings with some frequency. Often, these are calls from friends and strangers, eager to pitch in.

“How often does a business open and within a year and two months you have people coming in off the street saying, ‘I want to help’?” Belfer asked.

That doesn’t sound like a common occurrence. In fact, it sounds like something you’d read in a book.