US 2 East, Burlington, Vermont to Palmyra Maine.

Before peak foliage, there is peak green.

US 2 east took us from Burlington along the Winooski River through Montpelier, Plainfield and Marshfield, where we parted ways with the river, and continued east to Danville, St Johnsbury and across the Connecticut River. Stopping for the first view of the Presidential Range outside of Danville took almost as long as driving across the narrow neck of New Hampshire.

“This car did not climb Mt Washington,” but I did take a selfie as we flew past. (I will spare you my photo of Santa’s Village.)

Our first night was in Palmyra, Maine. My paternal great-grandfather, George Millett, was born here in the mid-19^th century, and there are still some Milletts living here, and plenty more resting here in the bosom of Abraham. George’s daughter Maude, my grandmother, was born in Wisconsin as George followed the timber harvesting business across the continent. They ended up in Libby Montana where Maude and Frederick Keller brought forth my father, Millett Frederick Keller. Who grew up on US 2, which runs through Libby. Really, it does.

So, back to Palmyra. I visited the newer  Millett place, which sits right on US 2. I took this photo at 6AM as we left town, and no one was up yet. We’ll visit on the flip side of the trip. I visited Palmyra back in the early 1980s, and the building on the left was the General Store, Millett’s by name, and the proprietor, one George Millett, took me to visit the cemetery. I figured him to be a second or third cousin, and e didn’t know he was named after his great (perhaps two greats?) uncle. The store is now closed, and last week I saw his obit in an online local newspaper as I was planning this trip.

There are more Milletts resting a couple miles off US 2. Herewith, for the genealogists in my family, are some photos.

Thomas, on the left, is my great-grandfather George’s father, who moved to Palmyra from Leeds, MA. His father Thomas was the reason Maude (and me and my sisters and nieces and great-nieces for that matter) are eligible for the Daughters of the American Revolution. (I toyed in the 1990s with the idea of taking over the local chapter and making it truly revolutionary again. May revisit that idea…)

If my father knew that his great-uncle Francis brought a Japanese bride back from WWII, he sure didn’t tell us about it….

A lovely supper at our camping spot at the Palmyra Golf Resort and Campground. End of Day one.