This story by Katie Lyford was first published in The Bridge on Nov. 4, 2025.
When East Thetford’s Bonnie Holbrook arrived at the Vermont Statehouse for the Vets Town Hall on Nov. 2, she wasn’t sure what to expect. She had spent her life around veterans and none of them would talk about their experiences. Holbrook decided to attend the event — a place where veterans and civilians come together for listening sessions — to better understand her family and community.
About 40 people joined Holbrook at the Town Hall, organized by Kristen Eaton, the group’s deputy director. It was one of seven similar events across the state in the weeks surrounding Veterans Day on Nov. 11, and it moved Holbrook. “Having the folks share their feelings openly is such a change from my experiences from family members, friends and my ex-husband,” she said. “So many of them had not and still do not know how to deal with it.”
The concept of a Vets Town Hall was created by journalist and author Sebastian Junger, who had spent years reporting from active war zones. He envisioned a place where veterans could share experiences directly with their communities: no politics, no debate, just listening.
“Historically speaking, humans overcome trauma far better when processing within a community rather than individually,” Junger said.
Vermont held its first Vets Town Hall in 2017, thanks to Eaton and Marine veteran Jon Turner, both of whom worked to bring Junger’s idea to life. Eaton said the gatherings evolve but keep the same intention: “What sticks with me most is the experience of sitting in a room with my community, listening to the stories of veterans in person,” she said.
Turner finds reward in the veterans who decide to speak for the first time. “Some veterans, who have never spoken of their military experiences, come to listen and they realize how genuinely listened to and supported their fellow veterans are, and that moves them enough that they in turn decide to share.”
This year’s event at the Statehouse was the first in such a historic and symbolic space, thanks to James Ehlers, chief of staff to Lt. Gov. John Rodgers and this year’s emcee.
Ehlers, himself a veteran, said he wanted to hold the event somewhere that reflected the honor and dignity veterans deserve and that might also draw in more of the state’s elected officials. “These are real stories,” he said. “They deserve a space like this.”
One participant was Marlon Fisher. The veteran, father and community leader had never spoken publicly about his own time in the military, and this was his first time attending a Vets Town Hall.
“I’ve talked about my military experience a few times, but only if it came up,” Fisher said. “Now, I’m working on community building, and veterans are a unique community in and of themselves that not a lot of people get. [But] in so many ways, I get it. And I think it’s important for me to share that.”
Fisher said he served as an all-source intelligence analyst for the U.S. Army in Germany with one deployment to Afghanistan.
“I was sitting next to soldiers with guns in their holsters, my weapon of choice a laptop,” he said. “My first night of deployment, I was terrified. There was a rocket attack and horrific conditions.” He described food poisoning that left him extremely ill. “I was scared. But thanks to my ‘battle buddies’ I was able to pull through. Fast-forward to the end of my year there, and it was like the first night repeated, another rocket attack. But as I looked around, seeing my battle buddies, I realized I was no longer afraid. That is the power of community.”
Vietnam War Army Captain and Chief Nurse Maureen L. Dwyer shared a similar experience.
“The night we arrived in Vietnam, it was so surreal,” she said. “Not seeing a bunker, having armed sergeants escorting us saying, ‘Stay behind us.’ I said to myself, ‘You’re not in Kansas anymore,’” she added. She said her time in Vietnam taught her the “oneness of community.”
“There was no family there, so it was a very different nursing experience because even though it was ‘off to the races’ every day, we were like a family, both your colleagues, as well as the patients, who were mostly young men,” she recalled. “You couldn’t help but love them, more than a professional nurse in the States would, because there’s no family. And because some of them were not going to make it out of there.”
Army Ranger Scott Wood graduated from Montpelier High School in 1987. Shortly after, he went to the Berlin Armory to enlist.
“I was sick of people telling me what to do, so I decided to join the Army,” he said. Never having flown before, on his second flight he found himself standing in the door of a plane about to jump out.
“I recall thinking, ‘I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this!,’” he said. “And then I have the other experience of seeing and doing things that no one should ever have to. But in a way, I feel fortunate to have gone through the dark stages and be able to now help other veterans.”
He recounted coming upon another Ranger who had suffered a spinal injury. “We came upon him literally five minutes after the jump. And he is lying there, so broken, begging for help. This was just a small moment, one, maybe two minutes in time. But it was like an image captured with the world’s best camera. It is engrained in your memory. You move on, because you have to. … And then that moment pops up while you’re in traffic or at a family dinner.”
Not all veterans will share and many do not even attend such events. Several told The Bridge they cannot bear to think about their service time at all. Turner said he hopes they have what they need and that he has made it his mission to help as many as possible.
Misha Pemble-Belkin, a soldier whom Junger met while filming in Afghanistan and whom many credit as their inspiration to speak out, frames this silence as part of what veterans are taught: “You learn to not feel,” he said. “Then, when you come home, you have to learn to feel again.”
Wood noted: “What I tell veterans all the time is, ‘It’s okay not to be okay, but it’s not okay to struggle in silence. The more you get it out, instead of bottling up, the better it gets. If I could have anything to say to somebody, it’s ‘Reach out, connect. It does get better. You shouldn’t have to live with that on your own.’”
Rodgers co-sponsored the event due to a personal experience. One of his sons and his daughter in law are veterans, and their childhood friend was deployed Afghanistan and struggled upon returning home. When their friend took his life, Rodgers’ other son, who had attempted to help, fell into a depression. The family now does all they can to try to help others. “The statistics show there are more veterans lost to suicide than war,” Rodgers said. “That means we are failing and need to do better.”
Sen. Joe Major agreed. “Veteran issues are often talked about but not always understood,” he said. “It’s vital we know what our veterans are going through — whether it’s PTSD, challenges with the VA, or adjusting to civilian life. Giving them a voice helps us learn how to help.”
Correction: An earlier version of this story misstated the number of attendees at the event and misspelled the name of event organizer Kristen Eaton.
