08/29/2026
Reduce, Reuse, Rejoice
I used to dread going to the dump. The hauling to the car, the fear that I’d make some ecologically indefensible mistake and throw a can in the wrong bin; it was a chore that I would put off, then assure myself that, no problem, that stinky bin could wait a couple of days. Then, one glorious and lifechanging day, the swap shop opened. Of course I’ve always loved the rummage sale, with its super-affordable wares…but free wares? Suddenly I couldn’t wait to go to the dump. Given my deep appreciation, I felt it was time to recognize the folks who brought the swap shop to life.
The swap shop came to be “sometime around 2016,” according to Ted Larson, station operator. He and his crew recognized the public’s desire for a way to encourage the valued mantra “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.” Tasked with this, a crew headed by John LaPorta and Wayde Wolf built the structure, and the donations flooded in.
I could go on and on about the treasures I’ve found: a perfectly good shop vac the day after my crawl space flooded, dozens of cloth napkins for my son’s wedding, the world’s cutest needlepoint chair for shoe-donning in the mudroom. But I’m not the only one. My fellow August editor Stephen Soba cherishes the perfect condition 19th-century ironstone tureen he found. Lory Bevans adores the porcelain brown-spotted cow creamer festooned with a blue ribbon, courtesy the shop. Julie Beglin’s family still quotes the book they discovered called How to Talk to Girls, including the archaic and inexcusable advice to “walk her home, even if she says no.”
None of these miraculous finds would be possible without the dedication of the tireless volunteers who tend the shop, vetting donations, and keeping it clean and orderly. Ted was quick to say that although his staff helps, it’s the volunteers that make the shop a success. “The swap shop is a great opportunity for the public to get rid of stuff in a positive way,” says Ted. “If you can wait for it, it will show up.”
And sometimes you don’t even need to wait. Last summer I was browsing the shop the morning my toaster broke. And there it was: a gleaming, practically new toaster. As I was gathering up my prize, long-standing transfer station employee Steve O’Neil advised, “Let’s make sure it works; here’s an outlet.” I asked him if, by chance, he had a slice of bread, to which he replied “Nope.” Well, maybe the swap shop doesn’t have everything.
—Susie Lilly Ott
