Border Story Story

Library. Border. Pots.

DERBY LINE, Vt. — For generations, the sleepy towns of Stanstead, Quebec, and Derby Line, Vermont, have slumbered together in the proverbial twin beds of neighboring border communities. Most of the time, the two towns have dreamed their separate dreams and not worried about hogging the political covers or drooling on each other’s soci-economic pillow. On special occasions, such as anniversaries or after a couple of drinks, those beds have been pushed together and the relationship, like this metaphor, has become more intimate.

But in recent months, a presence has disrupted these napping neighbors like a cat slurping lustily at its loins at 2:00 a.m. Life in Stanstead and Derby Line has become a nightmare. A Nightmare on Canusa Street, for this border community has become overrun by a pernicious yet mostly polite presence: journalists.

Journalists have descended on this border community—once drowsy, now sullen at the breakfast table—to write stories about the border. And increasingly, there are reporters writing stories about reporters writing stories about the border. This is one of those stories.

“We kind of take our close communities for granted,” said Raven Jones, who lives in Derby Line but whose parents are professional cheese waxers in Stanstead (retired). “Just neighbors who spend our days living side by side and our nights shining laser pointers at the border guards. But I guess it’s interesting if you’re not from here. And when you think about it, most people aren’t.”

And most reporters aren’t. Actually, we can confirm that none are. Zero percent of reporters are from here. If we led you to believe there was a possibility of local-based reporters doing border stories, we apologize. We’re sorry we brought it up at all.

“We’ve had lots of reporters visit over the years,” said Ms. Jones. “Right after 9/11. A bit later after 9/11. A few years after that to see how 9/11 changed us. When Trump was running for president. When Trump was elected president. When Trump was amazingly still president. Stories about which was worse, 9/11 or Trump being president. And sometimes reporters came just because they saw a story about Stanstead and Derby Line and thought it would be neat to do an almost identical story of their own.”

For years, reporters traveled to the border community, remarked upon the flower pots at the border and interviewed five people. The same five people.

“This is my 343rd interview!” said Ms. Jones.

Then COVID happened…

The twin beds, once so tenderly coexisting, have been pushed to opposite sides of the bedroom by governments that have banned bed jumping to prevent the spread of disease and painfully stretched metaphors.

Darren Pabsnik is a reporter for “Fondue You,” a fromage-focused podcast based out of Washington, DC (his parents’ attic). In January, he was sent to Derby Line to report on how the border closing was affecting the lives of border citizens and their love for Monterey Jack.

“I thought I would be here a day, maybe two, talk to the people everyone else had talked to, and I’d be on my way,” said Mr. Pabsnik. “But I’m stuck on the U.S. side of the border. How am I supposed to finish my story if I can’t interview the obligatory local Stanstead historian? And the library! Good Gruyere! The library!

That library is the Haskell Free Library, which sits directly on the Canada-U.S. border and is a mandatory feature of every border story. When the border shut down in the spring, the library closed as well. Now it has become Ground Zero for reporters attempting to complete their border stories. A tent city has popped up on either side of the flower pots as reporters wait for a librarian to talk to. The tent city includes no twin beds.

“Some days we hear the librarian is coming soon, that he’ll tell us how the locals don’t really think about the border,” said Mr. Pabsnik. “Or maybe he’ll tell us COVID has been hard for the community. Its for the librarian to say. But we’ll get the quote. We know he’ll come. He has to come.”

Before long, other reporters arrived to report on reporters at the border, inspired by other stories they had seen about reporters at the border. They interviewed five reporters. The same five reporters.

“This is my 68th interview,” said Mr. Pabsnik.

In response to the influx of reporters, this groggy border community has rallied to provide the journalists with their basic needs: coffee, left-over press conference food and a change of clothes once a week. But their patience, like an ancient coverlet on a twin bed, is wearing thin.

“We just want to get back to normal life,” said Ms. Jones, “and that’s excitedly reading every single story about ourselves and sharing them all on Facebook.”

About rossmurray1

I'm Canadian so I pronounce it "Aboot." No, I don't! I don't know any Canadian who says "aboot." Damnable lies! But I do know this Canadian is all about humour (with a U) and satire. Come by. I don't bite, or as we Canadians say, "beet."
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24 Responses to Border Story Story

  1. markbialczak says:

    Thank you so much for reporting on life on the edge, Ross.

  2. Not central to the story, but very curious about your local “cheese waxers.” Do they use some sort of fondue system to prepare people for bikini season? Or they put those red pliable jackets on the round cheeses, the kind of wax you can stick to your front teeth and smile at people on the bus? Or are they buffing up the cheeses for traditional winter games like curling, or cheese-whizzing? I’ve seen people out and about with what I understand are “cross-country skis,” although they really never seem to go that far, and they seem to pause along the trail sometimes, to rub what appears to be a chunk of Extra Old Cheddar on the bottom of their skis, I assumed so they could find their way home?

    • rossmurray1 says:

      I originally did write “ski waxers,” so I guess by extension it’s that kind of cheese waxing. The best type for cross-country is, of course, swish cheese.

      • A Colorado ski slope had a String Cheese Incident, when the rope-tow broke, they were using a Cheeses and Dairy Chain. (That last pun isn’t mine, I read it on the “Scottish ’80’s Bands & Après-ski Fondue” site.)

  3. Sheila Moss says:

    I saw a similar story on the news about Texarkana. Seems one side of the street is Texas and the other is Arkansas, in case you haven’t figured it out. The plot was one side of the street was snow plowed and one was not. I don’t want this to be a spoiler. However, I will give you a hint. Which state was having the most trouble with a snow storm recently?

  4. I never knew such things existed. I have been living in fear of Covid for a year and now you say there are places over run by reporters, Is there a vaccine for that? I can’t take any more of this kind of tragedy

    Laughter Can be habit forming

  5. I am a former Vermonter who has missed Vermont and I have been to that town and I remember those pots If I think there was not always pots there but of something else. I have to say the pot are a good touch. Anyways I have to say I like the story and I am finding this without the boarders of two country but of two states. Missouri and Kansas.

  6. beth says:

    groundhog day/jour de la marmotte – that must be huge here

  7. pinklightsabre says:

    Meta meta meta from the department of redundancy department. I love it. Takes hard work to make it look easy, you. Thanks for slinging the stuff that keeps us going here…

  8. Norman Benoit says:

    Very clever, and the comments also. Don’t stop. Please..

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