I was surprised by an online discussion that revealed some folks are nostalgic about the Good Old Days on Route 12A, the busy cash register of West Lebanon and the Upper Valley.
Actually, it wasn’t 12A they missed, since it’s still there in all its, umm, glory. It was former occupants, such as Pizza Hut, which introduced us to corporate pizza, and Shorty’s Mexican Roadhouse, as brightly decorated as a Disney attraction. I don’t remember much about the food, but I assume it was at least somewhat Mexican.
Since I worked for roughly 30 years at the Valley News on legendary Interchange Drive (behind McDonald’s and just around the bend from Beverage King), I am no stranger to the colors and aromas of the shopping district.
Believe it or not, when we arrived in 1982 there was an old farmhouse on one side of the road and an active cornfield on the other, just past the row of drive-throughs. Isn’t there a song about paving paradise? Oh, well.
Our kids were quite young, so their happiness brought us relief. Dede had a warm relationship with the Bagel Stop, where they cheerily welcomed toddlers. We sometimes dined at Papa Gino’s. It wasn’t busy and a couple of video game machines kept them amused.
When they grew older and more refined, Friendly’s was favored, because it was casual and kids got free sundaes on a certain night (Tuesday?). I remember an aging A&W, which charmed me because it had grown slightly shabby. No rebranding there!
We shopped at Purity Supreme, because that’s where we started and we are not the kind of people who drive miles in search of sales. At one point there was a big Grand Union with few shoppers. I called it the world’s largest convenience store. And two Shaw’s markets. Two, and not far apart. What a country!
Route 12A and environs had hot tub rentals, a movie theater, a little bookstore, two hardware stores, the More Fun arcade, and Rich’s, where you could buy everything from T-shirts to motor oil. The pet store served as a mini zoo for our kids. The original Longacres’ Nursery made us aspire for “House & Garden,” though we only qualified for “Oops, Should Have Watered That More” magazine. Dede appreciated Board and Basket, where she replaced pans that I torched with distracted cooking.
When Staples came along it boomed. So many computers, so many programs. I thought I would become productive, productive, productive. According to its jingle, Sears had everything — but this was a small store. It had good mowers, tools and batteries. RIP, Sears.
I relied on JCPenney’s for grownup clothes and funeral wear. Before Walmart there was K-Mart, where I often shopped because I was sore at the Walton family for not paying their employees a living wage as they became rich beyond belief. Now billionaires are a dime a dozen and can’t wait to replace us with AI.
Traffic was serious business decades ago. We got into the Christmas spirit by cursing drivers who blocked intersections. Dede at various times worked at Evergreen Florist, Homescapes, and eventually the housing authority, all in the 12A orbit. The road wasn’t pretty, but there is something to be said for a 2-mile commute.
And oh, the memories. My 1980s Ford Escort blew a head gasket one day as we entered the Walmart lot. At one time there was a world-class pothole collection on the road that leads to the state liquor store. I walked to work a number of times. The trek felt much longer with the traffic, exhaust, noise and the crossing of doom, at the entrance to the K-Mart Plaza.
Crossing the road in front of McDonald’s also took courage, and what in sports is called a quick first step. Woe to those who lacked conviction. It was, and remains true, that he who hesitates is lost.
Beyond all this, it smelled. The thick aroma of Fryolator grease sometimes drifted over to Interchange Drive from the restaurants. Rarely, when the stars and planets and winds aligned, methane from the city landfill reported in. Ooh, it stunk.
I suppose the frantic jumble of 12A is the price we paid for consumer culture. We coveted things, and we got them. So here we are — surrounded by pavement, always craving a better parking spot.
I don’t know that I am truly nostalgic for the departed stores, but I am a wee bit wistful for my 30-year-old self, my 40-year-old self and so on. It is pleasant to return to the past, despite the bumps and potholes of yore, because there was so much future ahead. Less so now, my fellow Boomers.
Bring back the A&W!
Dan Mackie lives in West Lebanon. He can be reached at dan.mackie@yahoo.com.