End of Day 4, Guildhall, and Lunenburg
Shawna Shaw and Kelsey Wilkinson
End of the Day: It’s just a mile or so further down the road to Guildhall, the shire town, but when I get there, everything is closed for the day, and no one is out. Tired, I decided to pack it in, and I find a campground across the river in New Hampshire to stay at. There are basically four types of places that I park the truck at for the night. My first choice is to stay on private property, either people that I know, or places that I find from a website called Boondockers Welcome, which is a group of RVers who provide spots on their property for fellow travelers. Next, I look at a website, iOverlander, which has an interactive map of public places where overnight campers are either allowed or tolerated. Third, if there are any state parks nearby, I’ll stay there. Except for the weekends, there are almost always open campsites there. My least favorite spots are the private campgrounds. In general, they feel like parking lots for big RVs. The worst ones have people who spend the whole summer there. They usually have loud generators, people partying until late at night and bad wifi.
When I pull into the campground in NH, I see that it is one of the cleaner campgrounds, and I pay for this. It’s about 35 dollars for the night. The camp manager leads me to my spot in is club car. I still have a few hours of daylight, so I make sure to park the truck in a sunny spot, and I begin to prepare my dinner. After a break from burritos the night before, I’m ready for another round. A full can of beans, two large tortillas, tomatoes, cheese, lettuce and salsa. Top it off with a few squares of my fancy chocolate bar with sea salt in it, and life is pretty good. I spoil it all by making myself a cup of tea…and promptly burning my tongue. The wifi is predictably bad, so I set my phone up to upload all of my videos from the day and call it a night. As I’m lying in my bunk (I recently learned this is called granny’s attic) I think about the people I’ve met today. Most of them moved here from out of state. They were drawn here by the prospect of a quiet, rural life, and they seem to have found what they were looking for. Nearly everyone I spoke to highlights the outdoors, whether it’s hiking, kayaking, hunting, fishing, or any of the many other ways to be outside in Vermont, the close relationship with nature here seems important. So many people are talking about their community, about how friendly and helpful people are, about how they take care of their neighbors. What seems to go unsaid is that they are less friendly to folks who are not their neighbors. What strikes me most of all, though, is the intentional way each of the people I spoke to has worked to build their community. The store keepers make their stores a welcoming place for people to gather. The parents spend time developing their children’s schools into centers of activity. People get involved in local government to a degree that seems unusual for the rest of the country. I also think about how much work people do with their hands. I don’t see the same divide between skilled labor, retail, and professions. Nearly everyone I spoke to glides between these tasks without much fuss. The teacher builds their own house. The farmer sends their kids to college and writes articles for magazines. Like Wesley said, “if you look at the people in the church pews, they all did chores this morning.” I drift off to sleep, feeling pretty good about the state of Vermont. In the middle of the night it starts raining, I roll out of bed, pull everything inside, and fall back asleep. The next morning, I mix some yogurt, fresh fruit and granola for breakfast, grind my coffee, and head back out on the road, ready to start a new day.
Guildhall: Shawna Shaw
I drive back across the river to Guildhall. The town center has no commercial buildings, but there is a courthouse, sheriff’s office, library and town clerk, all surrounding a broad open town green. Thinking it would be nice to talk to a county person, I duck into the sheriff’s office. The building is stuffy, and compact. There is a reception desk, behind a glass window and I explain to the woman that I’m looking for someone to speak to about Guildhall. “You should go next door, to the court,” the woman helpfully suggests. “Find the clerk, Angela. She’s been here forever and knows everyone.” Thanking her, I walk over to the courthouse, where I need to walk through a metal detector. The young man running security tells me that, since the court is in session, Angela is busy, but if I’m willing to wait, he’ll ask her to come see me when she’s on break, though he has no idea when that will be. I thank him and head into a small waiting room, where two young women are sitting at a table chatting. While I am sitting in the corner, taking notes about the town, I overhear one woman say she lives in Guildhall. I interrupt them, and tell them about my project.
The woman from Guildhall, Shawna, is reluctant to speak, because she isn’t originally from Vermont. She moved here from Connecticut seven years ago and worked remotely for a few years until she could find a local job. Shawna is the first person to contradict the recurring theme of how friendly Vermonters are. She says she still doesn’t know many of her neighbors, and there aren’t many community activities for her to join in. I get the sense that she has found Vermont to be a little lonely. She also describes Guildhall as being “a lot more like New Hampshire than Vermont.” When I ask her to explain, she hesitates, because she’s mostly thinking about how conservative Essex County is. I’ve seen lots of pro-Trump sings on houses, so I understand. But she also talks about how many of the folks who live here come from New Hampshire, perhaps seeking a quieter place to live. As soon as I finish recording the short video, her name is called and she heads into the courtroom.
Lunenburg: Kelsey Wilkenson
Since the other woman in the room is from the next town south, and has lived there her entire life, except for the years she spent going to college at UVM, I ask her if she’d be willing to talk about Lunenburg. Contrasting to Shawna, Kelsey describes a town where she knows, or is related to, nearly everyone in town. Kelsey is a middle school teacher, who taught in Lunenburg until the school closed and now teaches in New Hampshire. She describes the town as quaint and quiet. Confirming Shawna’s observation, Kelsey’s family moved to town from New Hampshire. Kelsey describes a town of hard workers, who try to make their town better. “I feel like everything you would need is in this town,” she says. Before I can ask her more questions, it is her turn to go into the courtroom so I turn off the camera. Driving south through Guildhall, the landscape blends seamlessly into Lunenburg. Route 102 merges with Route 2, which soon veers off to the West to lead to St. Johnsbury, and I follow it and the river down towards Concord.