Blue Ridge stands at the northeast side of the basin where Rutland City and its environs are situated. My home on Post Road in rural Rutland Town was a short distance from the mountain. I could see the mountain from my home. It was always there, as if watching over me like a great and comforting mother figure. Psalm 121 begins, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth." That is how that mountain has always felt to me. It was almost a spiritual presence in my life during my growing up years in the 1940s. I have always been a "driven" person. When I was a teenager beginning high school, my perfectionism and zeal to excel in my studies were causing my mother concern. She saw the stress I was putting upon myself. She sought the best remedy she could. She took me back up on the mountain. We spent two days there, a time-out to relax and soak in its serenity. My mother let the mountain soothe me and help me put my priorities in order. This beloved mountain is where I first learned to appreciate the beauties of nature. It is the site of many cherished family good times. It is where some aspects of my character were molded. As I recounted in my first writings, mine was a quite ordinary childhood for that point and place in time, the 1940s in rural Vermont. These stories I relate in this book are part of my history, and they are a part of my family's history. They are also a part of Vermont's history.