Now serving community: Vermonters rally to preserve the general store
| Shrewsbury, South Strafford, and West Townshend, Vt.
At the top of a winding road in rural Vermont sits Pierce鈥檚 Store, a white-clapboard general store with a wide front porch and a steeply pitched roof. By most measures, this place should have closed long ago.
But on a recent chilly November morning, a step through Pierce鈥檚 front door, beneath the jingle of a bell, and into the warm scent of freshly baked goods, feels like a hug.
These spaces are more than just the picturesque backdrops of Hallmark Christmas movies. Along the backroads of Vermont, a general store serves as a lifeline to residents, circulating mail, local wealth, and goods. But with the rise of Amazon and chain stores, the deck is stacked against them.
Why We Wrote This
They evoke Hallmark movies and simpler times. But in rural locations, general stores are a lifeline to the community, providing access to groceries and serving as a social hub. In Vermont, towns are fighting to keep theirs alive.
There are about 70 independently run stores left in the state, says Dennis B谩thory-Kitsz, a Vermont historian and author of 鈥淐ountry Stores of Vermont: A History and Guide.鈥� That鈥檚 a drop from about 125 in 2001. And yet, a small but sturdy number of towns are rising to the challenge of keeping their doors open under the nonprofit model by fundraising, volunteering, and hosting potluck dinners and music jams.
鈥淲hen somebody鈥檚 saving something in their community for their neighbors, it brings them joy, and it is hopeful. I hear that all the time,鈥� says Ben Doyle, president of the Preservation Trust of Vermont in Montpelier, the state鈥檚 capital.
At Pierce鈥檚, Lee Wilson is finishing off a breakfast sandwich at a small table in the back room. He鈥檚 been coming here for 48 years and now volunteers for shifts behind its counters. Mark Youngstrom is here, too, swathed in an Icelandic wool sweater. He鈥檚 been coming for 46 years. Martha Sirjane, the assistant manager, is also here, attentively swooping between shelves stocked with essentials and specialty items, chatting with visitors, ringing up orders, and in some cases introducing neighbors for the first time.
The store鈥檚 last owner, Marjorie Pierce, wanted to preserve this feeling of warmth for her small town of 1,100. Shrewsbury鈥檚 general store first opened the year the Civil War ended, not just as a place to pick up flour or sugar, but also as a gathering spot where neighbors played checkers next to a potbellied stove, got the latest news, and warded off the isolation of rural life. When she died in 2001, she left her family鈥檚 store to the Preservation Trust of Vermont, a nonprofit organization that provides support and funding for towns seeking to save buildings that define a sense of place. She gave specific instructions that Pierce鈥檚 remain a working store, not a museum of times past.
It was an ambitious request. And it took 16 years and the commitment of a couple dozen residents to be fully realized. But today, the Shrewsbury Cooperative at Pierce鈥檚 Store owns and runs the property, with the help of volunteers and a few paid staff.
鈥淭he ambiance of this place and Marjorie鈥檚 desire that the store continue to serve the community in as many ways as it could is just really important,鈥� says Mr. Youngstrom, who is a board member. He adds that in the years since they reopened in 2009, they鈥檝e devised new ways to draw people in, such as chili cook-offs, movie nights, a blueberry festival, and a children鈥檚 art exhibit in a converted garage out back. Their efforts have also become a source of inspiration for other towns that want to protect their general stores.
鈥淭he last great egalitarian space鈥�
Even before the pandemic and rising energy and grocery costs put the squeeze on Vermont鈥檚 general stores, their numbers were dropping as longtime owners looked to retire. Aging buildings, long workdays, and narrow profit margins led many to seek new proprietors, resulting in some closing their doors after decades of serving their communities.
鈥淲e鈥檙e seeing closures of independently owned stores as a result of an economy that doesn鈥檛 work for rural communities,鈥� says Mr. Doyle. The Preservation Trust of Vermont has assisted approximately 10 towns in establishing nonprofits to operate general stores. 鈥淸They] are the last great egalitarian space in our country,鈥� he says. 鈥淭hey are places where people, regardless of class, regardless of political point of view, can have accidental encounters with one another that are really important to building community trust.鈥�
Not long after Robert DuGrenier and his wife, Kathy, decided to move to Vermont from New York City in 1997 to realize their dreams of operating a farm, the West Townshend Country Store closed down.
鈥淭his was a ghost town. There was nothing to slow down for,鈥� says Mr. DuGrenier, a world-renowned glassblower who was once asked to figure out how to restore the flame on the Statue of Liberty. The property changed hands a couple of times: first as a catering hub, then as a ski shop. However, when the last owner decided to sell in 2010, the town realized it was about to lose its post office. Working with the Preservation Trust of Vermont, they found an angel investor who said that if the town formed a nonprofit, they would purchase the building and lease it back for $5 a month.
The West River Community Project, staffed largely by volunteers, now operates a donation-based caf茅, a thrift shop, an incubator kitchen, and, of course, the post office. Mr. DuGrenier is the postmaster. He鈥檚 also the wood-fired pizza chef on Friday nights, turning out a pie every 90 seconds, and the president of the nonprofit鈥檚 board. Music jams happen several times a week, and Tuesdays are a community dinner. In the summertime, a farmers market fills the backyard.
鈥淎 lot of other communities around saw what we were doing and said, 鈥榃e need to follow your model. How did you do this? How have you survived?鈥欌�� says Mr. DuGrenier. 鈥淲e鈥檝e really made a difference.鈥�
A community pitches in
In South Strafford, Vermont, the family-owned and -operated Coburns鈥� General Store has served as a hub for groceries, a laundromat, a gas station, a post office, and a bank since 1977. It鈥檚 also the place where a shy local boy bought his candy. Then Noah Kahan grew up to write and sing about life in rural Vermont. But when Melvin Coburn and his wife, Sue, were ready to retire after nearly 48 years, the only serious buyer wanted to turn it into a convenience store. The community rallied and established the Strafford Community Trust in 2022, with the assistance of the Preservation Trust of Vermont, raising $1.8 million. They used $1.2 million to buy Coburns鈥� in June 2025, and the remainder will be used for improvements under the direction of the new manager, Adam Smith, who leases the store from the trust.
There may be a new name over the door, Strafford General Store, but the bulletin board outside still advertises contra dances, dog walking, house cleaning, food pantries, and a new women鈥檚 empowerment group. Inside, along with shelves of groceries and a growing selection of Vermont-made goods, are old-fashioned hurricane lamps, cedar shavings, Easter egg kits gathering dust, an assortment of fishing hooks, and Noah Kahan T-shirts.
Deanna Race, a local resident of Strafford who has worked at the store for 26 years, is hard-pressed to identify top sellers. 鈥淏ut 127 hooded Noah Kahan sweatshirts sold in two-to-three weeks,鈥� she notes, adding that people come in every day hoping to catch a glimpse of the Grammy-nominated folk-pop singer.
Mr. Smith, just four months on the job, brings a wealth of experience as the former manager of a food co-op in a nearby town. His daily tasks include problem-solving a growing list: updating the coolers, redoing the register system, and setting up a new account to receive Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, cards. He has hired an assistant manager and reduced his 80-hour workweeks, staying in close contact with the trust. He鈥檚 also taking care to make inventory changes slowly.
鈥淭he nice thing about small stores, each customer does really matter, and you develop connections with them,鈥� says Mr. Smith, noting one customer turned on his heel and left when his favorite creamer wasn鈥檛 in stock. Most employees have stayed on through the transition. 鈥淭he more you support these smaller independent stores, the more they can thrive and their employees will thrive,鈥� he says.
鈥淪o much more than a grocery store鈥�
In Shrewsbury, Harry DiPrinzio and Elena Gleed moved from California a year ago to operate Pierce鈥檚 as a team. They are using their bread-baking and restaurant experiences to expand the baked goods and prepared-food offerings. Locals say the store is the best it鈥檚 ever been. But it鈥檚 still a struggle.
鈥淥ur goal as managers is to make it a sustainable business model as much as possible. And it鈥檚 really, really hard to do that,鈥� says Ms. Gleed. 鈥淭he cost of groceries is going up, the cost that we ... [pay] our distributors, that is going up.鈥�
Mr. DiPrinzio adds that it鈥檚 been a challenge to get some larger providers to deliver to Shrewsbury, although they maintain relationships with 30 to 40 individual suppliers. The recent growth of food hubs has made it easier to source more Vermont products, a priority for them. Infrastructure and food policy challenges aside, the managers are quick to acknowledge the value of the intangibles a general store offers.
鈥淭he heart of Pierce鈥檚 has been able to survive since 2009 because of volunteer community members,鈥� says Ms. Gleed. 鈥淚鈥檓 sure there are other examples in other towns. But it鈥檚 just so much more than a grocery store. And I think without the town鈥檚 support, it would not have survived for so long.鈥�
To Mr. Wilson, volunteering is one way of offering the sense of home he felt from the Pierces when he was new to small-town life almost five decades ago. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 one of the joys of working behind the counter,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 introduce myself to new people, and I say, 鈥榃ell, welcome to Shrewsbury.鈥欌��
