How different community generations embrace small-town living in northern Wisconsin

Where Highway 45 and Highway 54 meet, you’ll find a small city called New London. Driving into town, a large wooden sign bearing the phrase “reflecting the pride” greets you, and not long after, so do its residents.

New London, Wisconsin, which covers 5.78 square miles with 7,295 residents, is split between Waupaca and Outagamie counties in the northern half of the Badger State. Founded in 1851, people have been calling New London home for almost as long as Wisconsin has been a state, and although the town has predictably changed over the years — with new roads, buildings and residents — fundamentally, the sense of community always stays the same.

The city is called New London, but for those who stay there, the fact it doesn’t change much — that it doesn’t become “new” — is part of its charm. In the fall, the many trees change to reflect the warmth of autumn. In the winter, lights are strung on the exteriors of homes, snowmen pop up in the front yards, and after a fresh snowfall — not the fluffy stuff, but rather the snow that packs well — people of all ages head to the sledding hill behind the municipal plant. When they aren’t at T-ball or soccer practice, neighborhood kids spend their spring and summer months at the parks with friends. As the seasons change in New London, the sense of community never wavers. People move on — and sometimes move out of town — but the sense of belonging and community will always be tied to them.

Living in a small town in northeastern Wisconsin, childhood was defined by riding bikes to and from friends’ and neighbors’ houses, having bonfires and cookouts on the weekend, and waving to everyone — literally everyone — in the grocery store. Students in the school district enjoyed having some of the same teachers their siblings and parents did, and we played sports with the same team from elementary through high school. When others think of northern Wisconsin, they think of hunting, the Packers, cabins and an outdated lifestyle. However, for many who grew up in these areas it was, and still is, the perfect place to call home.

“It’s just that feeling of simpler times and friends and family and reconnecting, just experiencing the real world,” says my former New London neighbor Laurie Shaw.

Those who aren’t from the area might have heard about it because of its rich tourism. Every year during the St. Patrick’s Day celebration, New London becomes “New Dublin,” welcoming people for its annual parade — the largest in Wisconsin. Many others enjoy fishing, tubing or boating along the Embarrass, Wolf or Little Wolf rivers.

Outside of city limits, dairy farms dot the landscape. Factories such as Bemis, Tyson Foods and Steel King frame the city, offering manufacturing jobs to people in New London and the surrounding areas.

In its yearly directory, the New London Chamber of Commerce writes, “community leaders work in cooperation to provide the best for all. Well-planned commercial, industrial and residential growth can be sustained and extended as the need arises, thanks to the efforts of our past and present government, community and business leaders, whose vision for future success knows no limits.”

While the town might have changed over the years with new storefronts, parks and neighbors, its community lifestyle has not. Citizens are still able to reflect on the town they know and grew up in, especially when talking about the opportunities New London has to offer, the relative proximity to larger areas such as Appleton, Green Bay and Oshkosh and the comfort a community presence offers citizens of this small city.

‘Their roots are here’

While the town of New London bears many of the same features it has always had — the rivers, the library and schools to name a few — the people of New London remember growing up in different ways.

Phyllis Johnson, 94, lives in a small red home she and her late husband, Richard, built over 60 years ago on Pershing Road — one of the “main” streets in town — on five acres of land, which is uncommon in most urban areas.

Johnson has lived in New London her entire life. As a child, she remembers growing up — constantly playing with a deck of cards, she adds — on her family’s farm near the Pine Tree Tavern, now Pine Tree Supper Club, just eight minutes outside of town on Highway 54. She lived on the farm with her parents until she was 12 years old when her father passed away. Then, she and her mom moved into town to stay with her grandfather.

“We had good neighbors, and people were like a family, or a community. We knew all of our neighbors, and one helped the other,” she says.

After graduating from Washington High School — which has since been turned into a senior living facility — Johnson worked in New London for a plywood company and at an attorney’s office before getting licensed for real estate. If anyone could talk about the development of New London during the mid-to-late 20th century, it would be Johnson, who sold homes in New London, Manawa and the Fox Valley.

While she was raising her daughter and building her real estate career, Johnson never had to think about why staying in New London was the best option for her and her family. But soon after, she was able to list off many things the town has to offer, including friendly people, a familiar environment, plenty of possibilities, and jobs for her and her husband.

“Oh gosh, it’s everything. Everything. I think we’re in good hands,” Johnson says when asked what her favorite aspect of New London is.

When Johnson speaks of New London, it reminds me of the way my grandparents and great-grandparents speak of their childhood. They talk about going to the community theater with friends, riding bikes through town and visiting the dime candy stores on their way to friends’ houses.

Now, Johnson, a seasoned New London citizen with a lifetime of experiences, is still able to go out and get involved in the community. She is a member of the New London Lionettes, a women’s version of the Lions Club, and she also is involved with Most Precious Blood Catholic Church. In her free time, Johnson still finds pleasure in getting together with friends to play bridge, taking care of her landscaping, and visiting her daughter, Mary Anne, in West Bend.

Although her daughter got married and moved away, Johnson has remained in her quaint red house in New London with no intentions to leave.

“No, I want to stay right here,” Johnson says as she sets both hands on the table. “I don’t want to go across the street, across town. At 94, I should have my mind made up with what I want to do, but as they say, when I grow up I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Having lived in New London for her entire life, Johnson knows everyone and says she feels comfortable with her neighbors.

“Like your granddad — you know who to call when you need to — well, and your grandmother, of course,” she says to me with a smile.

Johnson, a grandmother herself, would also take care of the small children living next door, if needed. They even called her “grandma,” although she bore no biological attachment to them. While Johnson speaks of the helping hand of the community and knowing who to call when she needed it, she also serves as a friendly neighbor to those who know her.

A familiar face

That is something I look back and remember, too. Often, my family was able to call another family member if we needed something — because they also lived in New London — but we also had family friends and neighbors who were around to lend a hand.

Take Laurie Shaw, for example. She and her two daughters — with whom I played sports from grade school through high school — lived in my neighborhood on Pearl Street.

The Shaws’ house was like my second home. Alongside her daughters’ school photos, Shaw also displayed mine. In the summers during middle school and high school, I spent more time up the street at the Shaws’ house than I did at my own, and my parents were content with that. They knew Shaw, and Shaw knew them. Shaw went to high school with both of my parents and even worked with my mom at Hardee’s in high school.

“People want to feel that wrap of the community, they want to feel safe, they want to feel secure, they want to know the people whose kids their kids are friends with. It’s a comfortable feeling,” Shaw says.

Shaw, like Johnson, has also called New London home for her entire life. Growing up, she remembers spending time on her grandparents’ farm out in the country, going to the Dairy Queen and the school dances.

After Shaw, now 48, went to college at UW–Oshkosh, she returned to New London to work and serve the community. She started her professional career working at the Rawhide Boys Ranch, a faith-based charity with programs for at-risk youth. After working for Rawhide, Shaw took a position as the executive director of the New London Area Chamber of Commerce, where she stayed for 11 years until she moved into her current position as the director of administrative services at St. Joseph Residence, an assisted and independent care facility for older populations. Currently, Shaw also serves in an elected position as the New London-Weyauwega municipal court judge.

Moving out, but staying connected

Although many people, like Johnson and Shaw, live in New London for their entire lives, others move away for various reasons — leaving for college, a new job or a new experience. Whether or not people stay or go, they all share a common identity of being from New London.

Evan Taber, 20, grew up 15 minutes outside of town in Fremont, but attended school in the New London School District.

Unlike the kids who grew up “in town” who were able to go over to the park or walk to the gas station and grab snacks with their friends, Taber grew up in “the country” and had a different perspective. Looking back on his childhood — and once his parents decided he was old enough — Taber remembers being able to bike two miles down his country road to his friend’s house and playing outside with one of his few neighbors.

Growing up in New London, Taber reflects on his best experiences being related to high school with his friends, his teachers and the photography business he started in 2013.

Taber, who was able to develop lasting relationships with some of his teachers, says he doesn’t know if that would have been possible if he hadn’t gone to school in a small town.

After graduating from New London High School in 2015, Taber packed up and drove two hours to start college at UW–Madison, in an area far different than what he — alongside many others who hail from a small town — was used to.

UW-Madison was perfect for Taber.

“It’s not close enough where I was worried I was going to go home every weekend, but not so far — like four, six or eight hours — that if I wanted to come home I couldn’t,” he says.

Even though Taber goes to school at Wisconsin’s largest university, he still stays connected to his friends from high school and shares an apartment with some of them on Spring Street.

“Part of it is easy, because you still know them and stuff, but it’s also fun when there is that sense of community,” Taber says. “It’s nice to know people that you grew up with and that you’ve known for a while.”

He says he doesn’t plan to move back to New London after he graduates in 2019, but he doesn’t want to stray too far from family or the people he knows. While he might not return to his hometown, he plans on staying somewhere in the Midwest.

Johnson, Shaw and Taber all invited me into their homes to reminisce and talk about being from New London. Growing up in a small town, this is what we remember: always having a neighbor to call, always seeing a friendly face at the grocery store and always feeling like we had a sense of belonging in our town.

Jenna is a senior majoring in journalism and political science with a certificate in environmental studies. Born and raised in small-town Wisconsin, she still thinks that Madison is a “big city.” (Seriously, she’s only ever been outside of the Midwest once).

Besides being a student, Jenna manages social media for The Daily Cardinal and works in University Housing as a House Fellow. Due to lack of sleep — simultaneously caused by work, school and Curb — she most likely always has some form of caffeine with her.

Jenna has a love for her dogs, her plants and whatever podcast she is listening to at the moment. After graduation, she isn’t quite sure where life will take her, but she hopes to eventually work in nonprofit communications.