Kenneth Ross Belicove

Kenneth “Kenny” Ross Belicove, 62, of West Dover, Vermont, passed away peacefully at The Center for Living and Rehabilitation in Bennington, Vermont, on Saturday evening, July 1, 2023. Kenny was born in late summer of 1960, and over the decades, he embarked on a journey that touched the lives of the thousands of people he encountered. Even as a five-year-old, Kenny showed his gentle side when he saw a moving truck pull up at a house across the street from us. Kenny promptly greeted the new neighbor’s four-year-old son with a box of raisins. A friendship developed with young Todd, and in no time, the pair assumed the personas of secret agents, saving his neighborhood from spies. As a young adult, Kenny settled on the picturesque island of St. Thomas, where he worked in construction and kitchens for nearly two decades. He switched his building tools at the Caribbean Steel Company for spatulas and carving knives, serving up culinary delights for waterfront resort guests. When hurricanes devastated the island’s hotels and kitchens, as they occasionally did, Kenny once again grabbed up his leather toolbelt and transitioned back to construction, showcasing his adaptability and resilience. Speaking of resiliency, before he set foot on St. Thomas in the early 1980s, Kenny drove across the United States with a friend from Northeastern Connecticut. They arrived in Portland, Oregon, where Kenny flipped burgers at an Arctic Circle restaurant to scratch up some traveling money. Then, with friend in tow, the pair rode bicycles from Portland to San Francisco. From there, he hopped on a hippie bus called the Green Tortoise for a trip to Boulder, Colo., later working for a roofing outfit in Connecticut. In what he termed the worst job of his life and any life worth living, Kenny joined forces with Mayflower Moving Co.’s cross-country crews. We must assume he was displeased with too much lifting and too much driving, and not enough time to sit back and enjoy his favorite recreational activity — smoking massive quantities of quality cabbage. Before settling full-time in Southern Vermont, Kenny lived near Sedona, Arizona, in the Village of Oak Creek. There, he helped operate a now shuttered joint named the Desert Flower Bakery & Bistro, enjoyed mountain biking, and even participated in a Native American sweat lodge. And, speaking from a vast amount of experience, we should tell you this: Were you fortunate enough to savor a meal prepared by Kenny, you instantly knew him on a much deeper level. His creations were a symphony of flavors that transcended ordinary dining experiences (think Cap'n Crunch Chicken, which he started making back in the 1980s). Kenny’s was a unique soul, unafraid to embrace life's mysteries and unexplored territories. He shared a profound interest in Bigfoot and nearly every account of giant skeletal discoveries and extraterrestrial life. And he shared this knowledge, inviting others along the way to open their minds to the wonders of the universe. When he moved from the Village of Oak Creek to West Dover, Vermont, he quickly supported his Mother — the unsinkable Glenda Belicove — in the food service operations at The Inn at Mount Snow. The side of the house he ran was affectionately known as "Kenny's Kitchen." Prior to that he cooked at the now shuttered Andirons Lodge, the old Matterhorn Inn, the former Funky Mary’s Lounge / Deacon’s Den / Fennessey's, the defunct Lodge at Mount Snow, and Dot’s of Dover. After his mother’s retirement and move to Las Vegas, Kenny worked as a private chef and for a number of local painting crews. He painted for the Snow Goose Inn and also helped out the 7-Eleven in Mount Snow. Music always held a special place in Kenny's heart, and he found solace and connection in song lyrics. If you, too, view the world through melodic expressions, you share a bond with him that transcends words. And while you might have received a text or three from him containing a link to a musician or a band’s YouTube video that he wanted you to watch, know that his brother received hundreds. A trail of endearing monikers accompanied him through life, including Kenny-Kenny-Coco-Puff, Kitchen Kenny, Uncle Cousin Kenny, and Sheldon. The Kenny we knew as an adult radiated a unique and casual warmth. As a kid, he had a mischievous side, even convincing his younger brother that a trapdoor under his bed led to a secret radio station, where he personally selected all the songs that would grace the airwaves the following day. At the tender age of five, Kenny believed he was responsible for an extensive power outage that affected parts of the northeastern United States and Canada when he intentionally pushed his infant brother’s baby carriage into a wall at the precise second the power went out. Though the truth revealed it to be a transmission line issue that caused a 13-hour power outage in parts of Canada, Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont, this anecdote showcases Kenny’s vivid imagination and his ability to find wonder even in the ordinary. The Kenny we knew had a passion for beefy wristwatches, hosted an annual camping trip in Vermont for his buddies, and participated in the Five Boro Bike Tour in NYC (where he happily served in a Domestique role, shepherding alcohol for his group of hellions). He was unabashed about adding Baileys Irish Cream to his morning coffee, and he knew more about cannabis than anyone else roaming the planet, with the exception of those affiliated with Rastafarianism. The last thing you should know about Kenny is that on the first of June this year, he suffered a devastating stroke, and that for the month or so prior to his passing, he received visits from friends and family, signaling both a life cut short and one that affected more people than he likely knew. Our suggestion for those of us with a connection to Kenny is this: Let’s remember that he was so much more than these or any other words can possibly capture. His spirit, love, and light illuminated lives, and we believe it is our collective responsibility to keep his memory alive. And regardless of how you knew him (directly or through the words and images sheared here), may Kenny’s spirit guide you, and his legacy of acceptance inspire anyone reading this to embrace life's wonders with an open heart. In honor of Kenny-Kenny-Coco-Puff, Kitchen Kenny, Uncle Cousin Kenny, and Sheldon, maybe we can strive to keep the lights shining brightly in this world, regardless of the blackouts that naturally occur or are of our own doing. Kenny’s family will be holding a small, private celebration of life at a later time.