Carol Warnock Credit: Courtesy “I want to go soon and live away by the pond where I shall hear only the wind whispering among the reeds. It will be success if I shall have left myself behind.” Henry David Thoreau Early in the morning of January 8, in the loving presence of her husband and two children, Carol succeeded and went to live away by the pond. Having traveled on a difficult and lengthy journey through dementia, Carol was finally free… Born to John B. Gibson and Bette June Sweet Gibson in Rochester, N.Y., Carol grew up in nearby Webster, N.Y., the oldest of three children. She is survived by her brother, John Gibson (wife Carolyn Gibson), of Franklin, N.C., and was predeceased by her sister, Brehm Lee Neel (husband Tony Neel), in 2021, also of Franklin, N.C. Carol gave birth to a beautiful boy, Todd, in July 1970 while living and working in Rochester, and less than a year later, met the love of her life, Jimmy Warnock, who was visiting Rochester with his Brown University roommate, Jon Merritt, during spring break 1971. One evening, Jon and Jimmy slid into the back seat of a friend’s car en route to a concert with Boz Scaggs and It’s a Beautiful Day (think “White Bird”). Carol, in the front seat, turned to introduce herself to Jon’s friend in the leather fringe jacket (think Roger Daltrey, the jacket, that is), and well, that was that … Jimmy was as taken by the dark-haired beauty as she was by him. He was 21, and she was 19. Carol subsequently moved to California, and she and Jimmy were faithful pen pals (think pre-digital days) while he finished school, traveled out west with Jon and good friend Bobby Stetzenmeyer, and then settled in Vermont. They reunited at a friend’s wedding in December 1972 in Rochester, and Carol and Todd returned to Vermont with Jimmy to begin their life together there. In August of 1975, they were joined by their daughter, Erin, who was born at home in Shoreham, Vt. Two years later, they moved to the beautiful mountain town of Lincoln, nestled on the west side of the Green Mountains, and began salvaging building materials for a home of their own design. By 1981, Carol and Jimmy finished building their home with the able assistance of dear buddies John McClain and Danny DiNolo, with numerous other friends contributing their talents and energy as well. The early years in Lincoln saw the growth of a lifelong community of friends and families, with countless potluck gatherings, volleyball games, pond swimming and an ever-growing number of children. For Todd and Erin, growing up in a community of hippies in the ’70s and ’80s created a tightly knit group of friends and families. Todd: Having Carol for a mother created an opportunity for me to have a level of freedom and adventure in the woods, with animals, and in streams that would shape me as a man. I did not know until later in life that Mom always knew where I was, even when I believed I was alone in the woods, half a mile from the house. Add to that the experiences of living in a cave in Arizona, on a commune in Bridport, Vt., surrounded by people I still see and know today, 50 years later, as important people in my life … all because of Mom, who carried me across the country and back as a passenger on her adventures. She was a fierce advocate for my sister Erin and me, always protecting us at any cost. Erin: She mothered with absolute love while instilling confidence and patience. She encouraged us to be brave, and taught me to say “Nobody is the boss of me,” which perhaps she regretted in my teen years. She would smile at strangers as she passed them on the street, in a small but effective way that signaled in her presence everyone felt seen. Our childhoods were magical and free. The path through the woods that connected our house and our dear friends, the Danforths, was well traveled by all. To say that she will be missed is a massive understatement, but she is now everywhere. Erin’s home birth in 1975 had both inspired Carol and sensitized her to the lack of midwives available to support families wishing for a home birth. Carol began training shortly after Erin’s birth with Dr. Thurmond Knight, who had helped to create Vermont’s first “birthing room” at Gifford Memorial Hospital in Randolph. In 1976 Carol partnered with Melissa Deas, who had also trained with Thurmond, and together they formed Birthrites Midwifery in Bristol, a partnership that lasted for 23 years. Carol continued to practice as Mount Ellen Midwifery until her retirement in 2015, and while we don’t have an exact count, we estimate that Carol assisted in roughly 2,000 births. Her skilled and caring work had a positive impact on her clients that resulted in many strong and lasting friendships. Until 2001 there was no licensing for lay midwives in Vermont, so Carol did a three-month internship in May 1987 at a birthing clinic (Casa de Nacimiento) in El Paso, Texas, in order to earn a lay midwife license there. A number of years later, in the late ’90s, she worked on a statewide committee that eventually led to the Vermont General Assembly passing legislation (1999, No. 133) in 2000, effective January 1, 2001, to create a licensing structure for midwives. This law defined the “Licensed Midwife” (LM) as someone meeting the requirements of the North American Registry of Midwives (NARM). In 1993 Carol was selected to participate in the Russian Birth Project, which placed her in a hospital in St. Petersburg, Russia, for three months to support Russian doctors and nurses in learning more progressive and natural approaches to childbirth. The experience was a challenge that Carol’s adventurous side fully embraced, and she formed close friendships with several Russians that she worked with. Through all of these work-related travels, committee work and ongoing responsibilities as a practicing midwife, Carol’s humility, calm demeanor and reassuring smile won over all who had the good fortune to work with her. In the early ’80s, as Carol and Melissa were partnering at Birthrites, Carol was also serving as an early director of the Addison County Battered Women’s Project, which was later to become Addison County Women in Crisis. The project was organized for the purpose of “promoting the social welfare of Addison County by reducing the incidence of domestic violence, and primarily, the incidence of abuse against women.” Carol’s courage and fierce advocacy for abused women were put to the test many times when she appeared in court in support of domestic violence victims seeking restraining orders. When Carol wasn’t busy “catching” babies (“I don’t deliver babies,” Carol often said, “the mother does”) and later during retirement, she could be found in the garden, swimming in the pond, walking in the woods looking for abandoned birds’ nests and perhaps, at day’s end, on the porch with a gin and tonic. She especially enjoyed being with her children and their partners: Todd (partner Julie Almeter), grandchildren Kosmo and Namid (and their mother Ainaka Luna); and Erin (husband Garrett Heyns), grandchildren Scout and Jude. With a smile framed by her bangs and signature braids, she was always a patient presence in their lives, curious and endlessly interested in what they were up to. Carol’s curiosity also extended to her passion for world travel, and over the years she and Jimmy made it to every continent except Antarctica. She delighted in exploring and learning about different cultures and always saw the basic humanity and beauty in each country she visited. But none of the above information even begins to tell the real story of who Carol was, with her at times goofy sense of humor and penchant for collecting all manner of unusual objects. She was wildly inventive in decorating our home with vibrant colors to counter the long, monochromatic winters and in displaying unusual artifacts gathered from her many world travels. Who else would pack the skull and horns of a kob (African antelope) in their checked bag returning from Africa and then calmly clear customs at Kennedy in New York City with a friendly smile and kind word with which to greet the customs officer, who smiled back and promptly waved her through? Intrepid and compassionate, it was impossible for Carol to walk city streets without stopping to check in with homeless souls, engage them in conversation and leave them with some money to lighten their load just a bit. An annual Christmas Eve party held at our home with our family and dearest friends included a lively and often competitive game of Yankee swap, where early on it was discovered that Carol on occasion spirited away a desirable gift in the hope it might elude scrutiny — her local infamy forever to live on in various stories. A special shout-out with deep gratitude to the remarkable staff of Eastview at Middlebury and GardenSong. When it was no longer possible to care for Carol at home, she spent the last 11 months of her life in a loving and compassionate community that never lost sight of Carol’s essential personhood. All who knew and loved Carol can take comfort in knowing that in her own inimitable way she truly did make this world a better place for so many others. A celebration of Carol’s life will be held on Saturday, June 27, 2026, at Kingsland Bay State Park on beautiful Lake Champlain. Further information and opportunities to post remembrances, stories and photos can be found at loveforcarol.com. The post Obituary: Carol Gibson Warnock, 1951-2026 appeared first on Seven Days. ...read more read less