Starting in the late 1950s, Interstates 89 and 91 carved their way through Vermont, literally paving the way for an economic boom, population growth and a constant convoy of visitors. But progress carries costs, and a heart-wrenching story of an Ascutney farmer serves as a vivid example.
Romaine Tenney’s small dairy operation had the misfortune to lie in the way of I-91’s planned route. He had never lived anywhere else and had no intention of ever doing so. On September 12, 1964, the 64-year-old farmer let the cows out and lit a match to his barn. Tenney then entered his home, barricaded himself inside and set it on fire.
Filmmaker Travis Van Alstyne grew up in Chester, not far from where the highway barreled through Tenney’s farm. He was a teen when he first heard about the old Vermonter who chose to die rather than relinquish his way of life.
“His sense of place, love for his land and the sheer tragedy of the entire situation just captured me,” said Van Alstyne, now 44 and a South Burlington resident.
Van Alstyne earned a degree from Savannah College of Art and Design’s animation program. In 2024, after four years of work, supported in part by Vermont Public’s Made Here Fund, the filmmaker released an eight-minute animated short about Tenney titled “Love of the Land.”
In October, Van Alstyne won the Vermont Historical Society’s 2025 Richard O. Hathaway Award for his captivating, sparely written movie with pitch-perfect narration by Waterbury Center farmer-filmmaker George Woodard.
Seven Days chatted with Van Alstyne about old-school Vermonters, the animation technique he used, and whether the life — and death — of one dairy farmer 60 years ago can shed light on continued challenges to agriculture today.
You grew up near Romaine Tenney’s farm but didn’t learn his story until high school. Did you know anyone like him?
A friend recounted his story, which he had heard from his parents. That’s how locals knew and remembered Romaine. It wasn’t taught in school; instead it was passed down from person to person. At the time, Romaine’s story made a big impression on me, and it still does. I remember feeling a profound sadness for Romaine and his friends and family, wishing there could have been a different outcome.
As far as anyone who reminds me of Romaine, I’d have to say my grandfather. He was an old-school Vermonter with a strong work ethic. He always had a simple and practical answer to things, an endearing stubbornness, and was known to say he had everything he needed within a 20-mile radius.
Why did you think animation was a good match for the story, and how did you pick the specific technique?
It just felt right to tell Romaine’s story in animation: a medium that is manual, slow and intense. I knew I had to use rotoscope animation — which involves drawing over the top of live-action video, frame by frame — to get the realistic look and feel that I wanted. My innate drawing style is much more cartoony, and I knew that the somberness of Romaine’s story needed to be respected.
I chose to do the rotoscoping by hand using a digital stylus, which resulted in over 3,000 individual drawings. In a way, it imitates how Romaine lived his life: everything by hand with no shortcuts.
Much has been written — even songs — about Romaine Tenney. What did you think you could add?
It’s easy to see Romaine’s story as a protest and sum up his life that way. However, in doing the research, it became clear that he was a kind and gentle farmer who just wanted to live the life he loved. I thought it was time to really highlight his humanity.
We have a lot to learn from Romaine’s story: what progress means, land use and the importance of mental health.
This interview was edited for clarity and length.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Tragic Tale | Three questions for Travis Van Alstyne about his film, ‘Love of the Land,’ and farmer Romaine Tenney”
This article appears in Nov 26 – Dec 2 2025.
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