Blame it on Ryer’s Whoopie Pies

I never thought I would move to North Reading.

Sure, I had been to North Reading a few times as a kid, such as going to the flea market that used to be at what is now Stop & Shop (pitcher John Tudor used to go there too!), I dined at Kitty’s a few times and I remember the drive-in on Route 28.

I later met the woman who would become my wife, Danielle, who was raised in North Reading and graduated from North Reading High School, and I began spending more time in North Reading.

Living my whole life in Malden, I found North Reading’s way of life slow and would joke to Danielle about the “bustling” downtown and action in the center. North Reading had the last laugh.

It started about a month ago. I had just started filling in as guest editor for North Reading Patch after previous editor Matt Bashalany decided to return to public relations.

Being the regional editor who oversees 13 sites from Marblehead to Westford, I took on the temporary dual role of local editor for North Reading Patch.

I didn’t expect that it would lead me to change my zip code to 01864,  but…

The transformation from outsider to future North Reading resident was swift.

I was walking out of the police station at about 11 a.m. on a Friday the same day that I began the editing duties in North Reading. That’s when I noticed something. No sound.

Route 62 was in front of me and it was nearly noon on a Friday. But there was no noise. No sounds of traffic, no honking, no people yelling. Nothing. For you, that is a daily occurrence in North Reading, but for a guy from Malden that was odd.

A couple of days later, I walked into Ryer’s. Danielle had talked about the old Ryer’s and the new giant Ryer’s, but I had not visited the store until that day. I walked in and it felt like I was transported to midcoast Maine – a place where we go each summer to get away.

Maybe it was the whoopie pies on the counter talking, but that was when I began to start thinking of North Reading not as a small community that my wife was raised, but as a place where we could lay down our roots. I guess the combination of quiet and whoopie pies sold me.