When my partner and I relocated to Vermont from NYC 32 years ago, we found that we did not always “fit in.” People whose values we shared and with whom we had hoped to be friends, were often cliquish and unwelcoming. 

Contrary to stereotypes, it was more often native-born Vermonters who seemed not to judge us by where we came from or how we talked, but  would size you up and accept you if you had a good heart and a good character.

The person who did the most to get us connected to the community was a man in his seventies named Heubner Wellman. Heubner was born in Vermont the child of native-born Vermonters, but he said he was not a native Vermonter because he was conceived in Massachusetts. 

His parents were Unitarians. Heubner called himself a “negative Pagan.” He explained that he did not buy any religious ideology including agnosticism or atheism, and since you have to be something, he was calling himself a Pagan. But he was a “negative” Pagan because he did not believe in any Pagan pantheon or any particular Pagan doctrines. In all things Heubner was unique.

Heubner faithfully came every week to a regular vigil at G.S. Precision, where a small group of pacifists were protesting the manufacturing of components for first-strike nuclear missiles. But he would stand a few feet from the rest of us explaining that he does not join in groups so he was not part of the vigil: He was just there as “an observer.”

Heubner Wellman was small, and with his long, silky white hair flowing down past his shoulders, and wearing a pointy, red cap, he looked like an elf. At times. Heubner warned people around him not to act in any way which might call attention, because he did not want to stand out, and you could tell that he was not joking.

Heubner put the highest value on friendship. Unlike many activists, who may put political issues first, Heubner would never jeopardize friendship for some political advantage. As a result of his good will, gentleness, and interest in other people, Heubner had friends of all persuasions and in all walks of life, including war contract workers. 

Heubner introduced us to a lot of people. He would invite me to walk around town with him. He seemed to know half the people we ran into, and he introduced me to Wally and Emily White, who became genuine friends.

One day, Heubner brought me to Frost Place, where Wally & Emily, with the help of like-minded people, had turned a free-standing garage into a chapel. There was a hand-painted sign on a tree which read: “Jesus Can Change Your Life.” A sign on the mission displayed a graphic of a compass with the words: “Going in Circles? Let Jesus Be Your Compass.” 

When I saw all that, I made some argumentative remark about fundamentalist Christianity. Heubner asked me not to be combative, because he said, these folks are good friends of his.

Sadly, Emily is now deceased. She was a very comforting friend. My wife and I had experienced a terrible tragedy which involved an unbelievable betrayal from someone whom we had counted on and who let us down and –such was her shock and denial — she could not talk honestly about it at the time. (Now, after 30+ years, she seems to finally be able to look my wife and me in the eye and talk with some sincerity). 

This tragedy involved the death of our first baby after our midwife abandoned us. 

How could we go on living? How could we not want to die?  There was almost no one in the “alternative” community whom we could talk to, and we realized that quite a few people who have excellent ideas in the abstract can also lack depth when actual human beings need their love. Being able to talk with Emily and to put my agony into prayer, relieved the burden on my heart.

Emily was an incredible listener. I recall a conversation in which she interrupted me for a clarification because I mentioned a detail which seemed different from what I had said 6 months earlier. Wow… I knew she was listening!

Emily would often quote a Biblical phrase applicable to a situation which we were discussing. Unlike people who throw memorized passages at you, the Scriptures which Emily mentioned were always relevant and usually gave comforting wisdom to help understand the situation, and guidance to deal with it. The clarity of Emily’s counseling inspired confidence, just when I needed it. Wally has the gift of powerful, sincere prayer. When Wally prays, Heaven opens up and there is direct communication with the Divine. [This was written prior to Wally’s recent death.]

My encounter with Wally and Emily showed me a different Christ than the rigid icon of fear-based dogma which ranting preachers use to intimidate. When Emily talked about Jesus, I could understand and feel a completely different kind of presence. 

Wally and I have had some disagreements but he has been an excellent friend through all these years. When I was hospitalized and barely survived, Wally visited me, and a prayer he offered clarified my understanding of what I was experiencing. And — significantly — when I left the hospital, Wally was the one who took me home.

It was a native born Pagan who introduced me to these “religious fanatics.” Another native born Vermonter, Marion Hooper, whose father, Howard C. Rice, started the Brattleboro Reformer and whose family owned the paper for a half century; also accepted us, gave me employment and an opportunity to participate in a literary project, and introduced me to a great many wonderful people. 

Marion was the ultimate democratic person: She came from a notable family, but she was down to earth and treated everyone with impartial respect (or impartial disrespect if they ran afoul of her) regardless of their social standing, origin, or ethnicity.

When I first came to Vermont, I was concerned that if I opened my mouth and sounded like a New Yorker, I would be run out on a rail, or at least get the deep chill. It is difficult to describe exactly what “Vermont values” are, but I think they have to do with putting aside superficial differences, and appreciating authenticity and honesty.

Steven K-Brooks   (written in 2016)