Vermont’s Historic Sites: Beyond the Monuments, a Living Narrative
There’s something profoundly moving about standing where history unfolded, especially in a place as quietly profound as Vermont. This year, as the state’s historic sites reopen for the 2026 season, it’s not just about dusting off artifacts or polishing monuments—it’s about reigniting a conversation with the past. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is how Vermont manages to weave its history into a living, breathing narrative, one that doesn’t shy away from complexity.
Take Chimney Point in Addison, for instance. Its new exhibition, Unfinished Revolutions, isn’t just a display of student art; it’s a bold statement about the ongoing struggle to build a more perfect union. What many people don’t realize is that this site has been a crossroads of civilizations for 9,000 years, from Indigenous settlements to Revolutionary War colonists. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just history—it’s a mirror reflecting our own unfinished work as a society.
Then there’s the Revolutionary War legacy, showcased at sites like Hubbardton Battlefield and Mount Independence. Vermont’s role in securing American independence is often overshadowed by larger states, but in my opinion, that’s precisely what makes it so compelling. These sites remind us that history isn’t just made by grand figures; it’s shaped by the grit and determination of everyday people. What this really suggests is that even the smallest states can leave an indelible mark on a nation’s story.
The presidential sites, like the Chester Arthur and Calvin Coolidge historic homes, offer a different kind of insight. Coolidge’s Plymouth Notch, in particular, is a treasure trove of executive history. While his homestead is closed for preservation, the surrounding buildings—from the cheese factory to the summer White House—paint a vivid picture of a president’s life. One thing that immediately stands out is how these sites humanize leaders, stripping away the mythos to reveal the mundane details of their lives. It’s a refreshing reminder that even presidents are, at their core, products of their time and place.
What makes this season particularly intriguing, though, are the closures. The Justin Morrill Homestead and Old Constitution House are shut down for infrastructure updates, and the Bennington Battle Monument’s elevator remains out of commission. On the surface, this might seem like a setback, but I see it as an opportunity. It forces us to engage with history in new ways—through community programming, special events, and perhaps even a bit of imagination. What this really suggests is that history isn’t confined to buildings; it’s carried by the people who tell its stories.
From my perspective, Vermont’s approach to its historic sites is a masterclass in balancing preservation with innovation. By closing some sites for critical updates while keeping others open, the state is ensuring that these spaces remain relevant for future generations. It’s a delicate dance, but one that’s necessary if we want history to remain a living dialogue rather than a static exhibit.
As I reflect on this season’s offerings, I’m struck by how Vermont’s historic sites challenge us to think differently about the past. They’re not just monuments to bygone eras; they’re invitations to grapple with the questions that still define us today. Whether it’s the struggle for a more perfect union or the legacy of leadership, these sites remind us that history isn’t something we leave behind—it’s something we carry forward.
So, as visitors flock to these sites this season, I hope they don’t just see artifacts or read placards. I hope they feel the weight of the stories being told, the echoes of voices long silenced, and the quiet call to continue the work that began centuries ago. Because, in the end, that’s what history is all about—not just remembering, but reimagining.
