Environmental activist Bill McKibben, left, Vermont Conversation host David Goodman, center, and WDEV owner Ken Squier at a live episode of the Vermont Conversation at Bridgeside Books in Waterbury on Dec. 6, 2017. Photo by Gordon Miller

On Jan. 16, 2013, journalist David Goodman stepped into a closet-size studio at WDEV’s Waterbury headquarters to broadcast the first episode of “The Vermont Conversation with David Goodman.

Ken Squier, the station’s legendary owner, had given the new host a simple mandate, Goodman recalled: “It needs to be good radio.” In other words, it had to draw in listeners with a compelling narrative, interesting dialogue and a bit of surprise. 

“I have always thought of myself as a storyteller — hopefully on issues that matter,” Goodman said. “If I could do that on radio, then this would work.” 

It did — and 10 years later the conversation continues.

This week, as Goodman kicks off a 10th anniversary celebration, he has invited back his first guest, the environmental activist and journalist Bill McKibben. In the coming weeks, Goodman also plans to re-release some of his favorite interviews from the show’s archives. 

Some things haven’t changed, such as the hourlong public affairs program’s 1 p.m. Wednesday timeslot on WDEV. Other things have. “The Vermont Conversation” was originally conceived by Vermont Businesses for Social Responsibility, and it was sponsored for years by the advocacy group. But when Covid-19 struck Vermont in the spring of 2020, VBSR pulled out and VTDigger agreed to sponsor the program and distribute it on its website and through its podcast network. 

“I went for a walk with Anne Galloway, and it was a no-brainer for her,” Goodman said of the nonprofit news organization’s founder and then-leader. “VTDigger was its natural home.”

The pandemic prompted another big change. When WDEV temporarily closed its studios, what had been a live, call-in show morphed into a pre-recorded program. 

“For me, it was like being a dog that suddenly discovers there’s no leash,” Goodman said. “I was no longer bound to this Wednesday at 1 (timeslot), and I could talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere. So I took off at a sprint, reaching out to all my favorite authors, thinkers, journalists — and it was a revelation to have that kind of freedom.”

Though Goodman often books guests with a national profile, he said he’s most excited when he can amplify the stories of those who have been silenced. “You have the opportunity and responsibility to lift up voices who otherwise don’t get heard,” he said. 

One recent example was a 14-year-old, transgender girl from Randolph who found herself at the center of a conservative media firestorm after a teammate went on television to object to her use of a girls’ locker room. As the saga played out last fall online, on cable television and in community forums, Goodman recalled, “The one voice we had never heard from was the student’s.” 

Eventually, though, she turned to Goodman

“The student needed time but very much wanted to be heard,” he said. “The student decided that ‘The Vermont Conversation’ was where she felt comfortable and safe, finally telling her side of the story. That was very powerful to me on many levels.”

David Goodman, right, interviews Erica Heilman, creator of Rumble Srip VT, after she won a Peabody Award. Photo by Ariel Goodman

Goodman has also made a point of documenting Vermont’s history — sometimes in unusual ways. In 2015, he hosted a show with former Vermont Supreme Court Chief Justice Jeffrey Amestoy, who wrote the majority opinion that led to civil unions, and then-Rep. Bill Lippert, D-Hinesburg, a gay lawmaker who had helped usher the civil union legislation into law. 

“So these two men — really trailblazers in LGBTQ rights in Vermont — are kind of shoe-horned in (the WDEV studio). They told me they had never actually met,” Goodman said. “It was very meaningful to them and to all of us.” 

Last summer, after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, Goodman got to thinking about the Vermont Supreme Court case that had legalized abortion in the state a year before Roe, in 1972: Beecham v. Leahy

“We all know who the ‘Leahy’ is,” Goodman said, referring to then-prosecutor Patrick Leahy, who would later serve in the U.S. Senate. “So I started asking, ‘Who’s Beecham?’” 

Goodman tracked down the retired gynecologic oncologist in Shelburne and invited him on the show. “I was kind of struck by the fact that — why didn’t I know this story?” Goodman said. Jackson Beecham told him, “You’re one of the few people to ask me about it.”

“So we can never assume that these turning points in history have had their full telling,” Goodman said. “That, I think, is the most rewarding thing about this.”