Vermont
Where the sun disappeared, but only for a moment.
Ludlow · Montpelier · Waterbury · Burlington
The Journey
Vermont became synonymous for our family with one extraordinary day: the total solar eclipse of April 8, 2024.
We drove north from New York and started in Ludlow, where we got our first real taste of Vermont at Green Mountain Sugar House. The girls watched how maple syrup goes from the trees to the bottle, we stocked up on fresh Vermont syrup and stickers, and, most importantly, tried the maple ice cream.
From there we made our way to Montpelier, where we spent the night. In the morning we visited the State House, continuing our journey through every capital in America. It was still chilly even though it was April, and the girls ran around outside while we took in the little capital city. We grabbed coffee at Filibuster Café nearby and continued north.
Then came Ben & Jerry’s in Waterbury.
The girls were out of this world excited before we even made it inside. The colorful signs, cows, little ice cream truck, and face cutouts demanded pictures before a single scoop had been ordered.
Inside, they got to pick their flavors. Leah naturally went for something involving peanut butter, cookies, and as much sweetness as possible. Rachel stayed loyal to classic vanilla.
On the way out, we spotted a funny little image of a dog with the words, “Are we there yet?” Considering how often we had heard those exact words during our fifty state journey, a family photo was mandatory.
Then we reached Burlington.
It was smaller than I had imagined, but filled with character and culture. We walked through the city, enjoyed the shops and waterfront, and came across a public artwork presenting democracy almost like a puzzle that constantly needs to be put together. That image stayed with me. Democracy can look simple from a distance. Up close, keeping all the pieces together requires work.
But everything that day was leading toward one moment.
We headed to the Burlington airport area, where people had gathered for the eclipse. There was music, families everywhere, and an almost festival like atmosphere. We brought some food, found our place, put on our glasses, and waited.
Then, around 3:26 in the afternoon, daylight disappeared.
The four of us stood together, Dad, Mom, Rachel, and Leah, beneath a total solar eclipse.
For a few minutes, everything changed. The light, the temperature, the sky, the people around us.
And then the sun returned.
We drove home to New York that evening carrying a whole new bag of family memories that I know will stay with us forever.
Jewish Vermont
In Burlington, we visited Ohavi Zedek Synagogue on North Prospect Street.
Walking through the building, we saw Jewish artwork, learned about the local community, and spent time around the Shalom Shuk, the Marketplace of Peace. In a state with such a small Jewish population, it was meaningful to find an established congregation that had been building Jewish life here for generations.
Ohavi Zedek traces its roots to the nineteenth century and is Vermont’s oldest active Jewish congregation. Today, Burlington remains the center of Jewish life in the state, with synagogues, Chabad, Jewish organizations, and families keeping community alive across a very rural landscape.
That became part of what I appreciated about Jewish Vermont. The community is not enormous. But neither are the numbers what determine whether Jewish life matters.
Once again, we found a place where Jews had planted roots, built institutions, and made a corner of America their own.
What Stayed With Me
What stayed with me about Vermont was watching the sun disappear.
For a few minutes, something we rely on every single day was simply gone.
And then it came back. There was something comforting in that.
Sometimes the light disappears. It does not mean it is gone.
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