White River Junction is home to several junctions: it is where the White River joins the Connecticut River, where I-89 meets I-91, and where a handful of mothballed rail lines merge.
The village boomed in the early 20th century, becoming a major hub for the railways leading to upper Vermont and New Hampshire. After the interstate highways arrived, the town suffered an economic bust and became little more than a bedroom community for area service workers. However, White River Junction has recently experienced an influx of creative young individuals who have pumped fresh dollars into the economy and a fresh hipness into the culture.
First, some background. The most significant village in the town of Hartford, White River Junction stretches back to the early 19th century, when its economy centered on manufacturing. Economic success was found not in the mills, but in the railroads. The first tracks were laid in 1847 by the Central Vermont Railway. White River Junction soon became the most important railway hub between Boston and Montreal. The Junction House Hotel (now The Coolidge) accommodated more than 38,000 guests per year around the turn of the last century.
A 1937 guide by the Works Progress Administration evocatively describes the village's feel at the height of its railroad years: "soot-stained railroad sheds and a network of tracks" are next to the "crowded business center," diners packed with railroad men and truck-drivers, and hotels and restaurants "thronged with Dartmouth undergraduates wearing casually their tailored sports clothes." The author leaves no doubt that White River Junction is a bustling transitory space unusually industrialized for the region: "the unceasing ebb and flow of transient life saves White River from monotony and inertia."
As soon as Interstates 91 and 89 were built in the 1950s, monotony and inertia became serious problems. Aside from the typical off-ramp landscape growth of chain motels, gas stations and fast-food restaurants, growth slowed nearly to zero. The loss of jobs for residents, lost tax revenues due to business closures, and a slashed village budget stunted growth for the next half century.
In 1991, citizens drafted an incredibly ambitious plan that outlined an idealistic vision of making White River Junction an attractive, diverse and community-oriented place. Keeping with the typically glacial pace of urban renewal, the town is just now undergoing change.
The Tip-Top building was one of the first shining outposts of the post-depression economy. An abandoned bakery was turned into a hub of creative enterprise, featuring the excellent Tip-Top Caf, a paint-your-own pottery store, a community printmaking studio, alternative healers, and a host of other small businesses. Just down the street, Revolution Vintage has a fine collection of clothing, ranging from the typical used Levis and Converse to the wackiest vintage garb imaginable. Revolution Vintage embodies the incongruous scene that's typical in WRJ -- just across the street from Revolution is the Polka Dot Diner, an unchanged and underpriced holdover from the railroad era. Down on Main Street, you'll find the Baker's Studio (great muffins) and the town's newest home run: the Center for Cartoon Studies. Founded in 2004 by renowned graphic artist James Sturm, the school has already pumped new money and new residents into the town, firmly establishing WRJ as the ultra-hip Brooklyn refugee's place in the Upper Valley.
Make sure to go into The Center for Cartoon Studies, even if you aren't into cartoons -- the folks are friendly and there are usually interesting exhibits in their small gallery.
Further north on Main Street, WRJ's quirkiest attraction makes its home in a renovated fire station -- the Main Street Museum is an "alternative curatorial project," which translates to the weirdest museum in the nation. It's more like a Victorian mad scientist's house, stuffed with mismatched boots, mummified cats, old tools and more miscellaneous stuff than you can shake a stick at. Check it out.
Other things to see include: Vermont Salvage, which is a warehouse full of used bathtubs, doors and other architectural trimmings (once they had the complete contents of a 1950s soda shop for sale). It's fun to just wander through the aisles. There is also The Hundredth Monkey, a great used bookstore, over on Gates Street.
Northern Stage, located near The Coolidge (perfect for a pre-formal date?) is a small theater company with a goal of entertainment and education. Finally, if you go a few miles up Route 14 to the county seat of Hartford, you can get some delicious ribs at the unfortunately named Big Fatty's BBQ.
Perhaps, due in part to the random assortment of businesses and venues, WRJ is host to a thriving hipster social scene; which is more than you can say for the rest of Vermont.
In WRJ, you aren't dodging blue-haired leaf peepers or incomprehensible 12th-generation locals, you're bumping into disaffected black-clad cartoonists discussing Chris Ware and bands that you've never heard of. But these aren't elitist big city hipsters! They've established a website (uvscene.com) to host user profiles (a sort of Upper Valley MySpace), organize parties, and spread the word about events from art exhibitions to Burning Man expeditions.
It's a small group, but a strong one. They're often represented at events at the Hop and interesting lectures on campus and they don't hate Dartmouth kids (as long as you don't talk about your trust funds).
Not too bad for a tiny railroad town years past its prime.
