• File: Kevin McCallum ©️ Seven Days
• Floodwaters flowing past the Vermont Statehouse

This "backstory" is a part of a collection of articles that describes some of the obstacles that Seven Days reporters faced while pursuing Vermont news, events and people in 2023.

When I left my home in Waterbury Center to report on Vermont's fast-rising floodwaters, I fully expected to return to my family that evening. The Winooski River wasn't supposed to crest until late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. I thought I could document flooding in the Capital City without getting swept up in it.

But like many Vermonters, I had no idea what I was in for. After interviewing dozens of Montpelier residents as their downtown was becoming a massive, muddy bathtub, it was time to pull the plug.

Related Heavy Rain, Flooding Hits Vermont — and Rivers Are Rising

Heavy Rain, Flooding Hits Vermont — and Rivers Are Rising

By Kevin McCallum

News

I slogged back to my car near the high school, heaved my soggy camera bag in back and headed toward home. As I approached the northbound Interstate 89 on-ramp, however, traffic slowed, then stopped dead. I waited. I checked my phone for updates.

Then a guy walking along the line of cars reported that a rockslide had closed the highway. Several truckers had pulled their big rigs to the side of the road, apparently settling in for a long night. A firefighter confirmed my fears — the highway northbound was closed and not expected to reopen anytime soon.

I knew that the local road to Waterbury, Route 2, was underwater in several places, leaving me few options.

It was getting dark. I was hungry. The downtown was underwater. But the prospect of curling up for the night, soaking wet and hungry, in my car motivated me to keep trying to find a way home.

Following East Hill Road out of town to Middlesex Center seemed the most direct route, but the Winooski had other ideas, blocking my path at flooded State Street. I also tried to escape north on Elm Street, but the raging North Branch had overtaken it.

My next plan was to head for higher ground. I drove over the Main Street bridge, plowed through several inches of water covering Barre Street and turned uphill toward the College of Fine Arts. This detour allowed me to get out of town and head north on County Road.

I made it to Maple Corner, but the road west was washed out, forcing me to turn around and head back toward town. Luckily, the state's cell network held up better than its transportation system. I texted friends in North Montpelier who, despite the late hour, immediately offered a warm meal and room for the night. I gratefully accepted both.

Early the next morning I made my way back downtown, the utter devastation of which was coming into focus.

I got to work photographing swift-water rescue teams from New York who had plucked people from flooded buildings. I followed residents in kayaks as they checked up on neighbors. I talked to business owners grieving the loss of their livelihoods.

I was stuck, all right, precisely where I needed to be.