A U.S. town once nicknamed ‘Little Canada’ struggles with looming tariffs

J Skis in Burlington, Vt., designs award-winning hand-crafted skis that are manufactured in Rimouski, Que.

Winooski, Vt., is not exactly a border town. It’s a nearly 40-minute drive from the dividing line between Canada and the United States. But many of its residents have deep roots and connections with their northern neighbours and are bracing for the impact of tariffs.

“Bouleversant,” French for upsetting, is the word Raymonde Perron uses to describe how she feels about levies. She was born and raised in the U.S., but her ancestors are Canadians. They are among the Quebecers who crossed the border to settle in the Winooski region in the late 1800s and early 1900s in search of jobs in the local textile mills.

“My father actually grew up right on the border,” she says. “He went to school one year in Canada, one year in the United States because his parents wanted him to learn the history of both countries. Our leaders should know that history.”

Canada is Vermont’s largest trading partner. Ottawa says imports and exports support 17,300 jobs in the state, and that Canadian companies employ 2,050 people.

Businesses like J Skis in Burlington, just a stone’s throw from Winooski, is trying to prepare for the fallout of tariffs. It designs award-winning hand-crafted skis that are manufactured in Rimouski, Que.

“Twenty-five per cent is a massive fee for us to pay,” says Caleb Duggan, events co-ordinator at J Skis. “The margins in the ski industry are slim to begin with, so this is kind of devastating for us to deal with.”

The skis include a specially designed pair for Quebec skiers, which are decorated with a poutine-inspired pattern. Others are adorned with a Canadian maple leaf.

But drawing a dividing line across the border goes far beyond hitting the bottom line in Winooski.

A maple leaf flies alongside the American flag in the centre of the city, which was nicknamed “P’tit Quebec” and “Little Canada” as Quebecers moved in search of employment.

“A lot of hard-working Canadians settled here,” says Ed Perron, who was welcoming visitors the Historical Society’s Museum housed in an old mill.

That legacy is evident on the street signs, many of which are French names, including Dufresne, Dion and Lapointe. The names on the gravestones at the local cemetery also stand as testimony to the city’s French-speaking heritage.

With the passage of time, the language has somewhat faded from use, though some like Raymonde Perron have continued to practise as best they can.

“We are so close to Canada,” she says. “I want to keep the tradition in honour of my ancestors and for my family still in Canada.”

And many here say they don’t want tariffs to drive a wedge and sever the bonds built by common roots.