Last year, early in autumn, Jan and I had a wonderful opportunity to visit Vermont, a state that I hadn't seen in more than fifty years. My early childhood memories of summer vacations in New England are a blur of roadside cabins, lakes, mountains and forests. My Long Island grade school history classes with emphasis on New England and the Revolutionary War were my favorites. Deplaning in Burlington more than a half century later, I find much of Vermont's history well preserved. From the early French influence to the maple syrup tourist industry, my expectations were well satisfied. Sure, the 20th century did manage to add luxurious ski resorts and other outlets for winter recreation, and at the same time added lovely year 'round sightseeing opportunities for the masses. For me, driving on winding roads through the countryside, the little villages with their 200 or 300-year-old churches, the laid back ambiance of rural Vermont was an added bonus. No cell coverage? Tough shit. The road you're driving on was likely first laid out by a frenchman named Champlain in the early 17th century. So to all of you Vermonters I say, "Carry on and don't change a thing!" You have one of the most ideal places to live in the Republic.
