By STEVEN JUPITER
By now, everyone has heard the shocking news of Honoree Fleming’s murder in Castleton last Thursday. A walk on a widely used trail ended in horror when a still-unidentified man ended Ms. Fleming’s life with a single bullet. Vermont State Police (VSP) have little information to work with, other than the man had red hair, is about 5’10”, was wearing a dark grey t-shirt, and was carrying a black backpack. VSP press releases indicate that the police are looking for evidence and witnesses, but no breakthrough has been announced so far.
The story has made national news and drawn attention to Castleton for all the wrong reasons. A college town with a charming, historic main street, Castleton is not a place one would expect an act of such violence. It’s still unknown what precipitated the attack—was it random? did he know her?—but it has shaken the town and surrounding area to its core. Things like that don’t happen here, we thought. But clearly it does happen here, and it happened to someone named Honoree Fleming.
Ms. Fleming was 77 when she was murdered, an ignoble ending to what had been a rather dignified life. She was an accomplished scientist and teacher, a beloved wife and mother, a dear friend to many. And now all of these things will be overshadowed by a senseless act on a walking trail on a Thursday afternoon in October. All accounts of her life will forevermore include the word “murder.”
Castleton University (now Vermont State University at Castleton) has been the college of choice for scores and scores of students from Brandon, Pittsford, Proctor and all the surrounding towns for decades, if not centuries at this point. So many people in our community knew Ms. Fleming, either as a teacher, an administrator, or simply as a friend.
I did not have the pleasure of knowing her but given the public statements of admiration and affection from all who did, I’m sure it would have been a pleasure indeed.
Harry McEnerny, a Brandon resident and former colleague of Fleming’s at Castleton, recalled that “she had the most fantastic laugh. I loved when she came to plays I directed because if she thought something was funny, it was obvious. I got to see her over and over again defend the integrity of the institution. I really appreciated that about her.”
Monica McEnerny, also a former colleague at Castleton, remembered Fleming as “a vivacious, intellectual, and community-minded friend. She will be missed.”
“Honoree was so brilliant,” Colleen Wright of Sudbury said to me in a text. “She was such an incredible researcher. She was published so many times in scientific journals, did such groundbreaking work on uterine cancer cells, remarkable in a male-dominated field. But she was also a great mentor for educators. She was at Trinity, Middlebury, and Castleton during her career, developing programs and inspiring students.”
“As a friend, Honoree was awesome. She was funny, a great cook, very social and kind. And she was tough. She kept going through the worst things that could happen to a person but never got jaded or bitter. She loved her family, she loved her studies. She loved her home.”
“And the thing is, if the person who shot her had, instead, asked for assistance or a meal, she would’ve been the first to help.”
It is fundamentally unfair whenever a life is ended through someone else’s derangement. We may never know why she was targeted that day. But we can right some of this horrific wrong by remembering her not by her fate but by her life.
