The same day back in October when we toured the Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream Factory in Waterbury, Vermont, (previous post) Russ and I were chauffeured around town by local historian Brian Lindner. Brian has spent decades researching a World War II bomber training crash that my uncle David Potter died in near the summit of a local mountain named Camel’s Hump. (It’s really shaped like the back of a camel!) Although the crash took place in 1944, parts of the plane still lie in the bush on the mountainside.

Originally, we planned to hike up to the crash site with Brian’s guidance, but a steady light rain scrapped those plans. With my luck, I’d break an ankle again like I did in Scotland in 2024. Instead, we opted for a tour in Brian’s Jeep around town to see sites associated with the people who helped with the rescue operation. Then he drove us to the base of the mountain so we could view the commemorative plaque he had installed on a rock at the trailhead.

If you’re interested in the crash, you can read more about it in a two-part series I wrote last year: Part 1, Part 2.

While we were touring the area, I felt like I was in a Steven Spielberg war film. Seeing the historic places in the town and at the base of the mountain played like a movie in my mind. Standing in the colorful, damp fall foliage, we read the inscription on the plaque that listed the names of the dead. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. If my uncle had to die somewhere, perhaps a quick death at night on a mountainside wasn’t as bad as a violent death on a battlefield.

Brian grew up in Stowe on the grounds of the ski hill at Mount Mansfield. He’s worked on the ski patrol there for years, and as a historian for the hill and National Life Company in Montpelier.

As he drove us around, he kept waving to people as we passed. We thought he must know everyone, but then he explained it’s a Jeep “thing.” People who own Jeeps wave to each other in solidarity. It’s also a thing to bedeck the dashboard of Jeeps with rubber duckies. He wasn’t sure why, but it was awfully cute. Since I’ve returned home to Minnesota, I’ve seen a few Jeeps with rubber duckies on the dash, so apparently, it’s a thing even here.

The man knows everything about the area, and we felt fortunate to benefit from his expertise. He’s been a friend of our family for years, but this was the first chance I had to meet him in person.

That evening, we ticked off another must-do experience: dinner at the von Trapp Family Lodge and Resort. If you’ve ever seen The Sound of Music movie, you know the von Trapp Family story. (It was the first movie I ever saw in a theater as a child.) When the family escaped Austria, they immigrated to the U.S. and settled near Stowe because the landscape and lifestyle reminded them of home. They’ve owned the land since 1942, began welcoming guests in 1950, and the family still runs the resort.

We couldn’t afford to stay at the lodge, and timing wouldn’t allow us to partake in any of the special guest experiences they offer, but we could manage dinner. We made our reservations for their main dining hall a few weeks beforehand. They serve Austrian- and Vermont-themed farm-to-table foods. Russ had the Wiener schnitzel. I ordered a wild game dinner that featured venison and quail. However, they were out of venison, so I got two quail instead! To drink, I had a lingonberry spritz. For dessert, Russ had carrot cake, and I had chocolate mousse with hazelnuts. Everything was divine, and our waiter was attentive.

Because Disney owns the rights to the Sound of Music movie, the lodge can’t display any of that paraphernalia. But to me, that made the dining experience more authentic. The lodge is the family’s, and the surroundings celebrate their special heritage.

We ended our day with brains and stomachs pleasantly stuffed with Vermont history.

Next up: The Lost Kitchen, Freedom, Maine