From my house on Lakeview Terrace, I can see a homeless encampment on the Burlington waterfront that is growing larger every day. Since the height of summer, one sole tent on the western edge of the North 40 urban reserve has become a cluster of what looks like a dozen.
Our friends visiting from Miami noticed it, too, but they were happily distracted by the October sun slipping behind the Adirondacks and the gold and pink afterglow in the sky that lingered for almost an hour.
I first met Chuck Strouse in 2013, when he was editor-in-chief of the Miami New Times — then one of the hardest-hitting newspapers in the Association of Alternative Newsmedia; he had that job for 20 years. Now a professor at Florida International University and assistant director of its new Lee Caplin School of Journalism & Media, he was in town last week for a conference on student journalism convened by the University of Vermont’s Center for Community News.
When he wasn’t working, Chuck and his wife, Soraya, wanted to see Vermont — and, of course, the foliage — so he reached out to me in advance for recommendations. The airport had sold out of rental cars, so the Strouses explored the city on foot. While Chuck was walking back and forth from the Courtyard by Marriott to the UVM Alumni House, Soraya was on board the Spirit of Ethan Allen cruise ship and eating at Henry’s Diner. They borrowed our car and hiked to the top of Mount Hunger, rented bikes and cycled the causeway, and got lucky with a last-minute reservation at Honey Road.
Despite its challenges, Burlington can still turn on the charm.
Simply put, these world-traveling Floridians couldn’t get enough of the place — and their visit also happened to coincide with the most perfect stretch of fall weather in recent memory. Their obvious delight served as a reminder: While longtime residents like myself can’t stop comparing Burlington to the cleaner, more economically robust burg it once was, those seeing the Queen City for the first time don’t know the difference.
The same goes for the students who attend Champlain College and the University of Vermont. If I ever groaned at the sight of a new class heading down the hill for a night on Church Street, now I feel grateful for their young, open minds. Despite its challenges, such as the persistent graffiti that Courtney Lamdin writes about in this week’s issue, Burlington can still turn on the charm. Viewed through fresh, unjaundiced eyes, it remains a shining little city on a hill.
Two days after we watched the sunset with Chuck and Soraya, our backyard was occupied again — this time with neighbors for the annual Lakeview Terrace “cider social.” While the crowd was mingling, someone noticed a fire in the encampment below and called 911 — alarmed, no doubt, by how quickly flames could catch in the historic drought Vermont is experiencing.
A handful of us watched as a fire truck drove slowly along the dirt service road by the railroad tracks. Then two firefighters with flashlights set out on foot across the tent-dotted land, presumably to find the blaze. At that point, we could see that it had either been extinguished or gone out.
The drama prompted a lively conversation. More than a few people asked me: “Does the city have a plan?” as if I should know. One proposed moving the entire population of homeless campers to North Beach for the winter. In that location, at least there would be paved access roads and proper facilities. It worked during the pandemic.
Burlington’s urban sounds keep me up at night, especially barking dogs and super-loud motorbikes racing and burning rubber on the waterfront. But in the wee hours of Monday morning, it was a smell — of smoke — that woke me. I got out of bed and looked around but couldn’t see a source. Just after sunrise, I woke again to a woman screaming in what sounded like some kind of domestic dispute.
In the dawn’s early light, I tried to channel Chuck and Soraya and their touristic positivity. By then, they were out of here, on a plane, heading home.
This article appears in Oct 8-14 2025.


