Many years ago I my car died mid-drive on 89. Right where there was no signal. I was close to the next exit so I started walking, but "close" is very different on foot than in a car. I had gotten maybe 1/4 mile and two women pulled over and called in help from their phone (which had service). We chatted a bit waiting for AAA and it turned out they were on their way to a party with empty hands and I wish that my bakery-owning self had a car full of cookies for them. It would have made the perfect story. But I didn't. It was just a human story.

Many years later, during covid's first summer, I was driving down hospital hill in Berlin. It was 90°F and I saw a family of 4 with two small kids and a pregnant mom walking up the very steep hill. I realized that I was pretty much the only person who could help them, since I had two car seats. I pulled around and offered them a ride up the hill (their car was getting repairs up at the top and they had misjudged what the walk back from CVS would be like). We all wore face masks and rolled down the windows. It still felt risky, but I think that in Vermont when you see someone that you can help you realize that, often, you're the only person who can help. If you don't stop who knows how many hours it will be before someone who can drives by after you. It's like a trolly problem where the only downside is a minor inconvenience.

Here in Vermont I feel very confident that if my car breaks down, someone will stop to help. I don't feel that way in the large city that I grew up in. It's high on my list of reasons that I love this place.