
Kelly Tackett was in despair on Tuesday over the future of her children’s boutique, Minikin, which was one of many downtown Montpelier businesses that flooded this week. “I just feel in shock, and I feel like it’s probably the end of the store,” she told Seven Days.
On Wednesday morning, she was surprised to get a message from Clar Construction telling her a team was coming to help. By the time she reached the shop, the crew was already hard at work carrying items to the curb and mopping up. The company, which had helped her get the shop ready to open a few years ago, still had a key to the place. “They were just on it. I wouldn’t even have known where to begin,” she said, tearing up. “I feel like this is not the end of Minikin like I thought it was yesterday.”
Micah Royer, a lead carpenter at Montpelier-based Clar Construction, said its staff had the capacity to help. “Because our shop weathered the storm, it’s our priority to be out here,” he said. Crews brought mops, brooms, squeegees, generators and air blowers to help businesses clean up at no charge, he said.

Around Vermont, neighbors, businesses and institutions reached out to help their flood-stricken neighbors. As rivers receded and the full extent of damage became apparent in harder-hit communities, Vermonters rolled up their sleeves to pitch in.
In Waterbury, residents and volunteers pumped water and retrieved valuables from homes on Randall Street. Those whose water damage was limited to their basement counted themselves lucky.
Resident Bailey McHugh joined her parents under a white tent where they provided snacks, water and a station for handwashing for teams at work. Across the street were some dumpsters that Bailey’s father, Pat McHugh, had provided from his employer, Newschool Builders.
The McHughs had been in touch with the Waterbury Rotary, which planned to bring in 200 more people to help with recovery efforts on Thursday.
Of her community’s response, Bailey said, “You know how Vermonters are.”
Down the street at Park Row Café, staff set up grills on the curb and prepared to serve a free community meal. As nearby businesses such as Bargain Basement and Majestic Auto work to recover, the restaurant, on higher ground, was providing sustenance.
“Lots of people don’t have time or can’t [make dinner] right now,” said Brittany Jacobs-Moore, the manager at Park Row. She and other employees planned to serve burgers and hot dogs on Wednesday evening for at least 70 Waterbury residents and volunteers. Employees funded the effort, but the café wasn’t worried about its bottom line, she said. “We’re not interested in profit,” she said. “We made it through.”
In Cambridge, a group of Smugglers’ Notch Resort employees pumped out flooded basements on their employer’s dime. Boder Stevens said resort executives had told them to spend the day helping out.
They joined forces with the local fire department to help residents on Lower Pleasant Valley Road, which had flooded. One unaffiliated man who had joined the crew, Gerald Bovat, clarified to Seven Days that he “just showed up.” No one seemed to mind.
In Johnson, hundreds of residents helped pump out their neighbors’ basements and recover damaged goods. Eight members of the Lamoille Valley Church of the Nazarene lugged furniture, clothing and boxes from Shannon Collins’ Railroad Street apartment. The water levels inside had reached over six feet the night before, destroying her belongings.
“I’m just waiting for FEMA. I don’t know anything,” Collins told Seven Days.
With nowhere else to go, she planned to stay at an emergency shelter at the local campus of Vermont State University and to keep her possessions in a storage unit.
“She asked for a truck and trailer [in our church email chain], and I said, ‘I’ll be right there,’” explained Sarah Stearns, one of the volunteers, as she sorted through a box of damp mementos.
“Those are the love letters my mom and dad wrote to each other when they were dating,” Collins told Stearns, pointing to a pile of papers. A photo album labeled “Memories” was beside a broken doll that Collins had since she was 12.
A few houses down, Pam and Rick Aupperlee — with the help of their daughter Kat and grandson Avery — cleared their Railroad Street home. Rick, a lifelong record collector, eyed his waterlogged albums.
Jeremy Noeth, a Johnson resident, entered the home. “I live up River Road, which was just opened back up,” he announced to the family. “Is there anything I can do to help you all out?”
“We have a lot of wet, heavy books that need to go out,” Kat said.
“Point me in a direction and I’ll help you out,” he responded.
Back in Montpelier, people pulled on muck boots for the arduous cleanup effort.
The streets that kayakers had paddled down on Tuesday were choked on Wednesday with contractors’ pickup trucks, utility vans and pumper trucks. Street sweepers kicked up plumes of dust from the sediment that the floodwaters had left behind.
By early afternoon, the sidewalks in front of most downtown businesses were piled high with muddy rugs, ruined furniture and waterlogged inventory awaiting disposal.
“It’s weird to see your entire shop on the sidewalk,” said Jenny Sebold, owner of Rebel Heart clothing store and Pink Shutter Flowers.

She and her children spent the day carting everything they could out of the shop so they could mop, squeegee and sweep out the muddy water. Some gifts and clothing that had been above the two-foot waterline were salvageable, but anything else was probably worthless, she said.
While Sebold was deeply gratified over help from from family and friends, the latest blow to her business has left her a bit numb, she said.
“I made it through a pandemic, and now this,” she said. “It feels like I’m making it through my catastrophe bingo card. I just haven’t had locusts yet.”
The roar of generators used to help pump out waterlogged basements sounded throughout the Capital City’s dusty streets.
The marquee of the Capital Theater listed no films but simply read “Vermont Strong.” Crews of muddy teenagers piled wet rugs, soaked towels and ruined snacks on the sidewalk in front of the theater’s entrance.
“The water was halfway up the movie posters and 12 feet high inside the theater,” said its owner, Fred Bashara.
He was across the street talking to Dilip Patel, the new owner of the Capital Plaza Hotel, which Bashara’s family sold to him just last week.
Bashara was giving him advice about contractors and renovations and telling him that he could reopen more quickly than he thought.

Patel looked skeptical and said he felt it would take at least three to four months for the landmark hotel to reopen.
“It is what it is,” he said. “We have to deal with it.”
This article appears in The Cartoon Issue 2023.




