LUNCH IN SPRINGFIELD, PART TWO (2004)
On a dreadfully cold New England day, I sit at a table that looks out on Main Street, browse the Boston Globe,
and scarf down a scrumptious breakfast of French toast and maple syrup. Journalists need a good place to hang out, and the
Morning Star Café in downtown Springfield, Vermont is the perfect spot.
Then I plop my tape recorder down
on a nearby table and ask a talkative group of locals if I can interview them. One man immediately stands up and excuses himself.
"I’m under the witness protection program, and I can’t be part of this," he cracks, and leaves amid
a roar of good-natured laughter.
Once we get going, I can barely keep up with the two lawyers,
one sitting with his office manager/wife, the town manager, and the owner of a heating oil company. Everyone has strong opinions,
but one thing they agree on: "This café is the center of town."
About ten years ago, building contractor
and developer Stephen Greene bought the historic (1901) Bank Block where the café later located. Just after he closed
on the property, he was scouting around and discovered some men chatting over coffee in the basement. "Hey, what’s
going on?" Greene asked, to which one man replied, "We’ve been meeting down here every morning since the bank
closed. We’ve got our own key."
The Breakfast Club, as some call it, still meets there
regularly. I dropped in on them after my café interview, and the club was down to two guys and a coffee pot. "The
rest escaped to Florida till spring," one of them complained. "They send us postcards that say, ‘C’mon
down, it’s 85 degrees.’"
When entrepreneur Matt Alldredge moved into town 16 years
ago from the Midwest to work in communications, there were few vacancies downtown. "Welcome Wagon gave me coupons from
180 businesses. Now there’s no Welcome Wagon, and 100 of those businesses are gone."
It’s
no wonder that the Breakfast Club wound up in the basement of a nearly empty building — there weren’t any places
left to meet. Ever since the machine tool industry took the last bus out of town, and most of the 3,000 jobs with it, it’s
common to hear comments such as: "Springfield is just a retirement village. Everybody who stayed is getting old."
Alldredge, the founder of Precision Valley Communications, a thriving broadband engineering company, has become a
serious player (along with Greene) in Springfield’s slow, but deliberate redevelopment. Last year he rolled a sparkling
1950s Mahoney diner (Springfield Royal Diner) onto the lot adjacent to his Corvette Museum in North Springfield; and he has
sunk a lot of cash into some vacant downtown buildings, filling one storefront with a Radio Shack.
"He’s
just throwing his money away," says one of the basement coffee drinkers. "Unless they bring back the mills, this
place will stay dead." But while the old-timers have their solitary coffee, upstairs at the café, the regulars
will tell you that Springfield is on the move.
No place symbolizes that sense of hope better than the
Morning Star, and that was exactly what co-owner Neomi Lauritsen had in mind when she opened it in 1996. "I wanted it
to be a community-oriented place, where people would feel welcome and be able to hold meetings. It started as a 20-seat muffin
and coffee shop. But it kept getting busier and busier, and so I finally added lunch. Then Mac came, and we expanded to dinners
four nights a week."
Mac is Robert McIntyre, a chef who met Lauritsen when they both worked at Penelope’s,
a full-service restaurant downtown that still has a loyal following. In 1999, they turned a longtime friendship into a successful
business partnership. But it hasn’t been an easy ride.
"We’re not rolling in
the dough," says Lauritsen, "but we’ve got customers who love us and employees who really value their jobs
here. I had an employee who hugged me goodbye today and said, ‘I can’t wait to see you this afternoon so we can
have some quiet time.’ I’m talking about quality-of-life issues."
Many folks will tell you that the
café owners are admired for hiring and nurturing young people who have been down on their luck. "They just want
to be treated with respect," offers McIntyre. "We have some young people who are very special to us. We have gone
out of our way to be flexible, because we know their family histories. We are probably the only consistent thing in their
lives." When the town considered a curfew in an effort to cut down on loitering and vandalism, Lauritsen and McIntyre
were among the first to speak out in defense of the teen population. The idea was subsequently dropped.
For
this frequent visitor, the Morning Star has become a tempting destination point at the end of a 75-minute drive up from Florence,
Massachusetts. The soups alone are worth the trip. Served in generous portions in decorative mugs, every variety is a great
opening act for the vast selection of sandwiches, some fancy, others familiar. Even the tuna sandwich (Tuna Laguna) is a cut
above the ordinary. And there’s plenty of room to settle in, read the paper, and observe the surprisingly diverse clientele.
McIntyre likes it that way. "That’s the atmosphere here. We’re not gonna tell someone to give up
a table. It’s almost like going to the library. We get the doctors and lawyers, but the motorcycle guys with the tattoos
come here in the summer. They just love this place."
Neomi adds, "People at the senior
housing come over for tea and cookies in the afternoon, or when family come to visit them. Folks come on Saturdays and play
cribbage. And there’s a social services organization interviewing a single mother here right now. Maybe you can do that
in some other restaurants, but you can’t spend two hours over a cup of coffee like you can here."
The café is also the center of a growing music scene in the area. With the help of the Southeast Council on
the Arts, they bring in acoustic music performers on weekends in the spring and fall, and there is also an open mic twice
a month. The shows are so popular, that dinner reservations are advised on Fridays and Saturdays.
Over
the years, Greene has managed to fill most of his grand old building. In fact, there is a direct entrance into the café
from the adjacent section that houses offices and more than 80 workers. They’re in and out all day, carrying coffee
and sandwiches back to their desks. There is also a connecting door to the Gallery at the Vault, a community-based spot for
local artists to display their work, some of which hangs inside an actual bank vault. Greene donated the space. The art is
eclectic and quite remarkable.
One of the regulars at the Morning Star is town manager
Bob Forguites. He is full of optimism.
"Over the last few years, we’ve gotten millions
of dollars in infrastructure funds. We’re building a $20 million waste water treatment plant, and a $5 million non-profit
recreation center in a vacant mill."
A real estate agent told me that the town is becoming
a bedroom community for the increasingly gentrified upper valley area of Hanover and West Lebanon, New Hampshire. "These
are more professional types, and they are demanding better services and shopping on Main Street."
Downtown
certainly could use more retail and foot traffic. One single woman who moved to Springfield recently commented, "I love
it here. It’s quiet, and I’ve got just about everything I need, except there’s no place to buy underwear."
Her companion, a former New Yorker, notes with resignation, "There’s not much night life, but hey, it’s Vermont."
Newcomers like Jessica Larivee want to help change that. She and Chris Mason own Private New England Bird Breeder
in the former Springfield Bakery building on Main Street, and they live upstairs. She showed me the eerily beautiful former
dance hall on the top floor, and the renovated storefront that will soon be the site of a computer store. In July, the funky
old Springfield Lunch section of the building will become Flying Saucer, a California-style coffee house and gathering spot.
Perhaps, like the Morning Star, it will represent another beacon of hope for this historic river town that deserves a revival.