Seventy Years Later, Groton Still Knows the Value of Tradition
Vendors lined the village, families moved between booths, old friends stopped to catch up, and Route 302 was preparing to give way to the annual parade. The sky was nearly cloudless, the churches were busy, the fire department was out, and the Chicken Pie Supper still waited later in the day.
I grew up in Groton, so Fall Foliage Day has always felt like part of the calendar. As a kid, I did not spend much time thinking about why it mattered. It was simply what Groton did.
By Joshua Smith
The BMU Freshman Class used the day to sell dozens of pies (photo - Joshua Smith)
By midday Saturday, downtown Groton was full.
Vendors lined the village, families moved between booths, old friends stopped to catch up, and Route 302 was preparing to give way to the annual parade. The sky was nearly cloudless, the churches were busy, the fire department was out, and the Chicken Pie Supper still waited later in the day.
I grew up in Groton, so Fall Foliage Day has always felt like part of the calendar. As a kid, I did not spend much time thinking about why it mattered. It was simply what Groton did.
Standing downtown again this year, with the event celebrating 70 years, I found myself thinking about it differently.
We live in a time when almost everything seems to move faster than it used to. News reaches us instantly. Conversations happen through phones. Businesses depend on websites and social media. Communities that once relied on bulletin boards and word of mouth can now connect with people hundreds or thousands of miles away in seconds.
There is nothing wrong with that. Groton itself is embracing much of it. During Saturday’s Fall Foliage Day, we heard about the new Groton Connectivity Hub, where residents and visitors can access high-speed internet, computers, video conferencing and other digital resources right in the heart of the village.
Yet just outside, people were gathering for an event that began seven decades ago.
The day had started early with the lumberjack breakfast at the Methodist Church, with pancakes, sausage, biscuits and gravy, donuts and even pie. By midday, more than 40 vendors had set up around town. Churches held bake sales, school groups and community organizations raised money, local businesses opened their doors and people stopped to catch up with neighbors.
Then came the parade.
For a short stretch of the afternoon, Route 302 belonged to Groton. Fire trucks, tractors, floats, organizations and familiar faces moved through the center of town while people lined both sides of the road. The details change from year to year, but the spirit is remarkably familiar.
The reasons behind some of the traditions have changed, too. The first Groton Chicken Pie Supper was held in 1955 to help support the school hot lunch program, and the Northeast Kingdom Fall Foliage Festival followed the next year. After Groton’s local school closed and students became part of Blue Mountain Union, the supper took on a new purpose, helping support scholarships for local students.
The need changed. The event adapted. That may be the clearest reason it has lasted.
One generation starts something because it matters at the time. The next generation inherits it, changes what needs changing and keeps the rest. Over decades, the organizers change, the town changes and the reasons behind some of the fundraising change, but the community still recognizes the day as its own.
If the people who helped organize Groton’s first Fall Foliage celebration could walk through town today, they would certainly notice the cell phones, laptops and social media. They might be surprised that a local radio broadcast from downtown could reach listeners far beyond Vermont.
But they would also see plenty they knew.
They would see people cooking food to raise money for the community, firefighters taking part in the day, neighbors waiting for the parade, churches and organizations opening their doors and children growing up around the same event.
They would still recognize Groton. That idea also came through in the conversations around town.
Titan Potter, who helps lead the It Takes a Village youth mentorship program through the Groton Free Public Library, talked about helping young people understand that they have a place in the community.
“Everybody plays a role in any community and we all need each other,” Potter said.
The program takes young people around Groton to meet organizations, visit businesses and learn how their town works. Potter recalled one participant trying on a full firefighter suit during a visit to the Groton Volunteer Fire Department and becoming excited about the junior firefighter program.
That kind of connection matters. A young person sees a place for themselves in the community and, perhaps, becomes one of the people helping sustain it later.
Groton firefighter Steve Batchelder made a similar point when talking about the challenge volunteer departments face in finding people with time to serve.
“Any time is better than no time to volunteer,” he said.
Fall Foliage Day depends on that same willingness to contribute. Someone cooks the chicken, bakes the pie, organizes the vendors, drives the fire truck, opens the church, sets up the tables or handles one of the dozens of jobs most visitors never see.
Local businesses are part of that effort as well. Major sponsors of this year’s Fall Foliage Day included Emerson Logging, Oliver Landworks, Groton Tire & Auto, LLC, Upper Valley Grill, Rise & Run Timberframes and Wells River Chevrolet. Their support helped make the day possible and reflects the role local businesses play in community life.
The WYKR remote broadcast also had its own group of supporting sponsors and community partners, including the Groton Free Public Library, Village Compute and Village Snacks, Kingdom Restoration and Estimating, the Groton Connectivity Hub, Groton Tire & Auto and the Groton Volunteer Fire Department. Their support helped bring some of the day’s conversations and community stories to listeners beyond downtown Groton.
Technology will keep changing. The way we communicate will keep changing. Groton will change, too. But there is value in having a few things that ask us to slow down, come downtown and stand beside one another for a while. Seventy years is a long time. None of the people who first planned this festival could have known exactly what Groton would look like in 2026.
But I think they would be pleased to know that, seven decades later, the town still gathers around many of the same things: food, service, neighbors, fundraising and community. The leaves change every year. The people change with every generation.
But after 70 years, Groton still knows how to carry a tradition forward.
The Groton Volunteer Fire Department starting the day off with a coin drop before the parade took over Route 302 (photo - Joshua Smith)
The BMU marching band preparing to lead the parade. (Courtesy Photo)
WYKR broadcast live from the festival for the first time in modern memory. (Courtesy Photo)
From BMU to Celery Man: Alan Bisson Finds Joy in Making People Laugh
There is a certain kind of courage in being willing to look a little ridiculous. For Alan Bisson, a 1990 graduate of Blue Mountain Union School, that courage has involved poetry, live per formance, social media and, more recently, getting hit in the face with pies, ranch dressing, peanut butter and other assorted food by a stalk of celery.
By Joshua Smith
Alan Bisson, a Blue Mountain Union School graduate, Bisson is the creator of “Celery Man.” (Courtesy Photo)
There is a certain kind of courage in being willing to look a little ridiculous.
For Alan Bisson, a 1990 graduate of Blue Mountain Union School, that courage has involved poetry, live performance, social media and, more recently, getting hit in the face with pies, ranch dressing, peanut butter and other assorted food by a stalk of celery.
Bisson is the creator of “Celery Man,” a comedy character that has attracted an audience well beyond Vermont. His short-form videos have earned millions of views and tens of thousands of followers, with viewers tuning in from across the United States and around the world.
The videos are brief, strange and intentionally silly, but behind the comedy is something more heartfelt: a man who enjoys making people laugh and who has rediscovered his own creative voice through poetry and performance.
“Celery Man is a comedy character who lives with celery,” Bisson said. “And Celery has his own mind. He talks. He has a mind of his own and he likes to hit me in the face with pies and, you know, anything — ketchup, ranch dressing, peanut butter, you name it, and it’s going in my face.”
The character began almost accidentally. Bisson had gone on a diet and found himself eating a lot of celery. As a poet, he decided to write about it.
“I decided to write a poem about celery and a lot of people liked it,” he said. “So I put out another one and it just started evolving. And then all of a sudden I’m on TikTok getting millions of views. It’s crazy.”
What started as a simple creative experiment soon became something much bigger.
Bisson said his TikTok audience had grown to roughly 53,000 followers, with viewers coming from Greece, Australia, Canada and many other places. He has also been recognized locally by people who know him only as Celery Man.
“It’s so much fun to walk into a Maplefields store and everybody knows me and I don’t know them,” he said.
Still, Bisson said the most meaningful part is not the follower count or viral attention. It is hearing from people who say the videos made them smile.
“I’m just glad that I can make people’s days,” he said.
Some viewers have told him they look forward to seeing the videos when they are having a difficult day. Others simply appreciate the silliness.
That sense of joy seems to be at the center of what Bisson is doing. There is also a certain bravery in it.
Posting comedy online means taking a chance. There is no guarantee people will understand the joke or enjoy what you create. Bisson said he gets some negative comments along with the positive ones, but he keeps making the videos.
He has always enjoyed humor and said people have encouraged him to try stand-up comedy over the years. The thought of performing in that setting, however, made him nervous.
Celery Man became another way to perform.
“This is my opportunity to do that behind the scenes,” he said. “It’s just me and the camera.”
That creative courage goes back much further than social media. Bisson’s love of poetry began during his senior year at Blue Mountain Union. In English class, he watched Dead Poets Society and immediately connected with it.
“I was hooked instantly,” he said.
He started keeping a notebook beside his bed. Sometimes he would wake up at one or two in the morning and write whatever came to him.
“Maybe it was something I dreamt or whatever, and I would just write this whole poem,” he said.
Then, like it does for many people, life took over. Bisson served in the Army, married and spent roughly 20 years living in Colorado Springs. He said he went about 30 years without seriously writing poetry. When he returned to Vermont in 2019, something changed.
He began writing again. “That’s when I realized, dang, I actually can write really well,” he said.
Bisson describes his poetry and songwriting as somewhat “Bob Dylan-ish,” with hidden meanings and layers beneath the surface. He also credits being back in rural Vermont with helping him reconnect to that creative side.
“There’s just something about being in the woods,” he said. “This is where I find peace and solace. It’s easier to write here than in the city.”
One of the most meaningful moments in his return to poetry came when he wrote about the Blue Mountain English teacher who had inspired him years earlier.
He decided to perform the poem at a live reading in Providence, Rhode Island. He was nervous enough that he asked to go first. Then he got on stage and read. The response was a standing ovation.
“That really excited me a lot,” Bisson said. “And that got me to start writing more and more and more.”
That moment says a lot about the larger story behind Celery Man.
Confidence does not always come before the risk. Sometimes it comes afterward.
Sometimes courage means stepping onto a stage while you are nervous. Sometimes it means returning to a creative passion after 30 years away. Sometimes it means posting a strange 15-second video and accepting that not everyone is going to understand it. Bisson has done all three.
The Celery Man videos are generally 10 to 15 seconds long and are often improvised. His theater background helps him make quick choices and connect with an audience in a very short amount of time.
Not everything goes according to plan.
In one video, the tripod holding his phone began collapsing in the middle of the scene, forcing Bisson to grab it while staying in character. Viewers praised the “cameraman.” Bisson was the cameraman.
Another early video involving whipped cream required three attempts because he kept making mistakes.
“I forget to yell ‘Celery Man’ at the end, or I go to hit my face and I miss my whole head,” he said.
Then there is the cleanup.
Bisson sometimes prerecords several videos in one night, meaning multiple showers between takes. He estimates that the series has gone through somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 to 300 bunches of celery.
The character continues to evolve. During the first season, the celery did not talk. In the second season, it does. Fans now send Bisson ideas for new characters, including suggestions that broccoli should join the cast.
There is also merchandise, autograph signings and a growing presence on Cameo, where Bisson records personalized greetings, roasts, birthday messages and anniversary videos.
But he is quick to point out that Celery Man is only one part of who he is.
“I want them to realize that I’m a real person,” he said. “I’m not a celery man. I’m actually a nurse. I’m a veteran of a foreign war. I’ve done a lot of things in my life for people, and I’m not that character in real life. That’s just a character.”
His poetry is now beginning to return to his online presence as well. In a way, the whole story has come full circle. A poem about celery helped create Celery Man, and Celery Man may now introduce thousands of people to the poetry Bisson has carried with him since his Blue Mountain days.
He also believes there is something about rural life that encourages people to be inventive.
“We in the country have to find our own fun,” he said.
That may be one reason Celery Man feels so at home here. There is no large production crew, no elaborate studio and no team of writers. There is Bisson, a phone, a tripod, a sense of humor and a willingness to try something unusual.
When asked whether people need more harmless weirdness in the world, Bisson did not hesitate.
“Absolutely.”
There is a larger lesson in that answer. Not everyone needs to make celery videos, but perhaps more people could use the courage behind them.
The courage to write the poem. The courage to share the idea. The courage to return to something you once loved. The courage to make something simply because it brings you joy.
Most of all, the courage to be yourself without waiting for everyone else to approve.
“If you’re laughing, life is good,” Bisson said.
That may be the best explanation for why Celery Man works.
It is ridiculous, but it is sincere. It is silly, but it comes from a real desire to make people happy. For now, Bisson plans to keep writing, keep creating and keep seeing where the character takes him.
If you could use a little more laughter in your day, look for Alan Bisson on Facebook, Celery Man on TikTok, and Alan’s personalized videos on Cameo.
And when you do, look beyond the celery. There is a poet there, too. More importantly, there is a reminder that sometimes the thing you are nervous to share with the world is exactly the thing that may bring somebody else joy. So write the poem. Try the idea. Make the thing.
And do not be afraid to be yourself.
Don’t Let Your Friends Go Without You: Vermont’s Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Horror Expo Returns
The 7th annual Vermont Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Horror Expo returns to the Champlain Valley Exposition in Essex Junction on Saturday–Sunday, April 25–26, 2026, and it’s shaping up to be the kind of event you don’t just “drop by.” You plan around it. Because once you’re inside, you start realizing how big it is, how much there is to do, and how quickly the weekend fills up.
If you’ve ever seen someone’s convention photos afterward—kids grinning in Jedi robes, a parent holding a freshly signed poster, a group of friends who clearly had the best weekend—and thought, Wait… that was in Vermont?—this is your heads-up.
By Joshua Smith
The 7th annual Vermont Sci-Fi, Fantasy & Horror Expo returns to the Champlain Valley Exposition in Essex Junction on Saturday–Sunday, April 25–26, 2026, and it’s shaping up to be the kind of event you don’t just “drop by.” You plan around it. Because once you’re inside, you start realizing how big it is, how much there is to do, and how quickly the weekend fills up.
Jeff Folb—owner and general manager of Vermont Gatherings, the team behind the Expo—calls it Vermont’s own version of a Comic-Con experience, “our local Comic-Con, without calling it a Comic-Con.” And that’s not just a fun line—it’s a pretty accurate description of what the Expo has become. It began as a Vermont Sci-Fi & Fantasy event, and Folb says “a couple years ago we added horror,” then “officially unofficially added paranormal and pop culture.” In other words: it’s not one niche. It’s a whole universe of niches—under one roof, for one weekend.
Three buildings. One problem: you can’t do it all.
The most important thing first-timers don’t understand is scale. This Expo isn’t a single hall with a handful of tables. Folb says the event runs across “three attached buildings,” covering “about 80,000 square feet.” That layout is part of the fun: you can bounce from sci-fi to fantasy to paranormal to hands-on workshops to gaming—without ever feeling like you’ve “seen it all.”
And yes, you can do it in one day—technically. But Folb puts it plainly: “You could certainly get through the show in a day, but if you really want to… experience it—meet guests, get autographs, go to panels, do gaming—“you could certainly very easily stretch that out into two days.” Translation: if you only come for one day, you’ll probably spend the next week saying, Next year we’re doing both.
What’s on the floor? Pretty much everything.
So what is it, exactly? Folb describes it as an expo “featuring all kinds of guests” and “almost any medium you can think of” within sci-fi, fantasy, horror, paranormal, and pop culture.
This year’s guest lineup includes Bruce Boxleitner and Claudia Christian from Babylon 5 (Folb notes Boxleitner was also in Tron), plus Adam Berry from Ghost Hunters and Kindred Spirits, and Brett Wagner, known for portraying Leatherface.
But guests are only one piece of the weekend. Folb says there are “over 150 authors and artists, comic creators, game designers… cosplayers… crafters… vendors, gaming panels.” If you like browsing, you’ll be in heaven: art for your walls, handmade fandom merch, costume pieces, props, jewelry, books, comics, and the kind of “I didn’t know this existed” stuff you only find at conventions.
He also breaks down how the buildings feel different. One area is “a little more horror focused and paranormal focus,” while another includes what he calls the “old Star Wars section,” with costuming groups and Star Wars-themed vendors. It’s the kind of variety that lets different members of a family or friend group split up—and still all come back excited.
Bruce Boxleitner will be there
Claudia Christian will be there
The experiences people remember
Beyond shopping and autographs, this Expo leans hard into things you can do.
There’s a dedicated building for “panel rooms, food and beverage and gaming,” with scheduled and pickup games “all day, both days,” including role-playing, board games, and more. Folb says you can expect “10 or 12 panels and workshops a day,” ranging from paranormal topics to creative sessions like “how to create a comic book… how to create a character… how to get published.”
There’s also a professional photo setup with scheduled sessions for guests—and Folb notes attendees can book photos in costume, too.
“Horror” doesn’t mean “not for kids”
If you’re a parent reading the event name and hesitating at the word horror, Folb is clear about the tone: “All of our shows… are family friendly and family focused,” and even when a guest is known for scarier roles, the Expo doesn’t cross the line into adult-only content.
Costumes are encouraged, but not required—Folb estimates “probably 40 or so percent” of attendees show up in some form of costume. And there’s a built-in incentive: the Expo gives out “awards and prizes for costumes” throughout both days. So whether your kid has a full superhero outfit or you’re rocking a last-minute wizard cape, you’re part of the fun.
The “FOMO” truth: this is the weekend people talk about afterward
Folb says the bigger mission is creating events where “you can bring the grandparents and the grandkids and everyone in between, and everyone’s gonna have a great time.” That’s what makes this Expo different: it’s not designed for just one age group. It’s built so nobody’s bored—because there’s always another building, another panel, another game, another photo op, another aisle you haven’t explored yet.
Or, as Folb sums it up: “It’s an event… an experience for everyone.”
Sugaring Season: Patience, Weather, and a Little Bit of Luck
For those who don’t sugar, here’s the quick version of how it works. When temperatures drop below freezing, the tree essentially pulls moisture up from the ground. When it warms up, that pressure reverses, and the sap flows out—right into buckets or tubing systems if you’ve tapped the tree. It’s like the tree is breathing in and out.
No freeze? No recharge.
Too warm for too long? The season can start slipping away.
What this year is teaching us about maple season in our neck of the woods
By Joshua Smith
There are a few things you can count on this time of year. Mud season is coming whether we like it or not. Someone’s already put the snow tires on the “maybe next weekend” list. And across towns like Groton, Bath, Corinth and Peacham, there are folks watching the weather with the same level of trust they give a used snowblower.
Because it’s sugaring season.
Now, if you’ve ever made maple syrup—or even just helped out for a day—you know this isn’t a hobby for the impatient. It’s part science, part tradition, and a whole lot of hoping the weather cooperates.
I recently had the chance to talk with Mark Isselhardt from the Proctor Maple Research Center, and if there’s one takeaway from this year so far, it’s this: no two sugaring seasons are ever the same.
A Season That Keeps You Guessing
If you’ve been out in the sugar woods this year, you’ve probably already felt it. This season got off to a slower start than what we’ve seen the past few years. Colder temperatures early on meant things didn’t get moving right away.
Then came the snow—which looked promising—but it didn’t stick around long. A stretch of warm weather, some rain, and a little wind took care of that pretty quickly.
And here’s the thing a lot of folks don’t realize: too much warmth can be just as much of a problem as too much cold.
Sugaring depends on that classic New England rhythm—freezing nights and warmer days. That’s what gets the trees to move sap. Without that back-and-forth, things slow down.
As Mark explained, sap flow doesn’t just happen steadily over time. It comes in bursts. You might have a few days where everything lines up perfectly and you make a big chunk of your syrup all at once. Then you might go several days with almost nothing.
It keeps you humble.
Why the Weather Matters So Much
For those who don’t sugar, here’s the quick version of how it works. When temperatures drop below freezing, the tree essentially pulls moisture up from the ground. When it warms up, that pressure reverses, and the sap flows out—right into buckets or tubing systems if you’ve tapped the tree. It’s like the tree is breathing in and out.
No freeze? No recharge.
Too warm for too long? The season can start slipping away.
And that’s where things get tricky this year.
We’ve already had a stretch of warmer-than-average temperatures. For some producers, especially those in warmer areas or with trees facing the sun, that can impact how productive their taps are. The tap holes can start to seal up earlier than expected, meaning less sap when conditions improve.
So far, reports across the region—and the state—are all over the map. Some producers are just getting started, while others are already a good way into their season. That’s sugaring. It’s never one-size-fits-all.
The Good News
It’s not all uncertainty. One thing Mark pointed out is that the quality of syrup this year has been strong. Producers are reporting good flavor and color, and sap sweetness seems to be right where it should be.
That’s a big deal. There was some concern going into the season that last summer’s dry conditions might affect sugar content in the sap. So far, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
And while it’s still too early to call the season one way or the other, there’s a sense of cautious optimism out there. As long as we don’t get a long stretch of unseasonably warm weather, there’s still plenty of opportunity for good runs.
Buckets, Tubing, and Tradition
If you grew up around sugaring, you probably have your own version of how it was done.
For me, it was buckets, a tractor, and a whole lot of lifting. You’d go tree to tree, dump the sap, haul it back, and repeat until your arms reminded you exactly how much sap weighs. And for the record—it’s heavy.
These days, a lot of larger operations use tubing and vacuum systems, which allow them to collect sap more efficiently and at a larger scale. In fact, Vermont now produces over half of all the maple syrup in the United States, and production has grown dramatically over the past few decades.
But whether you’re running thousands of taps or just a handful in your backyard, the heart of sugaring hasn’t changed. It’s still about paying attention. Showing up. And working with what nature gives you.
For Those Who Don’t Sugar
Even if you’ve never tapped a tree, sugaring season is still part of life around here.
It’s the steam rising from sugarhouses on a cold morning. It’s the smell of boiling sap drifting through the woods. It’s the quiet understanding that spring is getting closer—even if it doesn’t quite feel like it yet.
And if you’ve never tried it, even tapping a couple trees with your family can give you a whole new appreciation for what goes into that bottle on your table.
Because it’s not quick. It’s not easy. And it’s definitely not predictable.
A Season Built on Optimism
Talking with Mark, one thing stood out more than anything else. You have to be an optimist to be a sugarmaker.
Every season brings its own challenges. Every year is a little different. And no matter how much experience you have, you’re still at the mercy of the weather. But that’s part of what makes it special.
So whether you’re out there collecting sap, boiling late into the night, or just enjoying a stack of pancakes with the finished product, this season is a reminder of something simple. Around here, we don’t just wait for spring.
We tap into it.
And if you’re not out there in the woods yourself, this is the perfect time to go find the folks who are. Take a drive. Follow the steam. Stop in at a sugarhouse if you see one open, or plan a visit during Vermont Maple Open House Weekend. You can also find local producers through the Vermont Maple Sugar Makers' Association at vermontmaple.org or the New Hampshire Maple Producers Association at nhmapleproducers.com.
And when you do—buy a bottle. Maybe two. Because behind every jug of syrup is a season like this one: unpredictable, a little stubborn, and made better by the people willing to stick with it.
That’s what you’re really bringing home.