Growing up in West hartford, VT
West Hartford is a quintessential town that time forgot. Sharing a small valley with the White River, the town boasts a country store, small library, post office, cemetary, and a single white steeple on a church no longer used for worship. Perhaps 15 homes line Main Street. Beneath the bridge over the river is one of the best swimming holes in Vermont. The town dies during the winter, but comes alive again during the summer with swimmers, anglers, and hikers following the Appalachain Trail. Grwoing up in West Hartford we were sheltered from much of the world's harshest realities. Crime was minimal, and pretty much only included occasional vandelism by small town kids trying to have fun. Winters were spent sledding, summers were spent swimming, and the school year was spent riding a bus that seemed to take an hour to find the school only seven miles away. Though fall is the prettiest season in West Hartford, summer was the most fun. If not swimming to cool off, one could be working up a sweat either riding bikes along back country roads, or playing at Clifford's Park. The woods always provided an adventure for the daring boy willing to wander off the gravel road. Almost any day of the week found the air filled with the smell of fresh cut grass, but on the wrong end of town the Clealand's pig farm dominated the breeze. I could talk for hours about growing up in West Hartford, VT...the local 4-H club, Christmas caroling, my first kiss, but the experience is one that needs to be lived, not told.
William | Newport, NH