These establishments in Monroe County were inspected between June 8 and 14, according to Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture records.

Years went by and Henry, now 40, and with a family of his own, returned to his comic strip with a more poignant and real understanding of family life.

Henry talked to the Globe about his philosophy for the comic, creative inspiration, the four main characters — Wallace, Spud, Amelia, and Rose — and his old school approaching to drawing.

Q. Where did your love for comics originate?

Henry: Like most cartoonists, I’ve been drawing my entire life. It was something I’ve been doing since I was a kid and it was a passion that stayed with me through elementary school, high school, and even in college, where I was writing comics for the daily campus paper at the University of Connecticut. No matter what odd job I was doing I was always finding time to do cartooning at home. Andrews McMeel Universal gave me a chance to syndicate “Wallace the Brave” nationwide and internationally.

Were you doodling and thought ‘This might be a great career?” or did this come on later in life?

It came later on. When I was in elementary school, I was copying “Garfield” comics word-for-word to show my friends or copying “Far Side,” but it was just for fun and a creative outlet. It wasn’t really until that first year in college when I realized the job does exist. Someone has to do it. I thought maybe that could be me.

Describe “Wallace the Brave” and the world of Snug Harbor?

I would describe it as the view of a small town through the eyes of kids in grade school, full of mystery, and wonder, and adventure. and friendship. I take a lot of pride in the character development, but it’s a coastal New England town, which I think is why it would be perfect for the Boston Globe, and I think a lot of people in that area will see parts of New England that they recognize, even if it’s vague.

How much did growing up in Rhode Island — the Ocean State — shape that setting?

Oh, absolutely. I’m a child of the ’80s, where things were a little more lawless and there’s a bit of that in that comic. I’m really interested in just what happens when children get bored. Their mind wanders and adventure starts. Less screen time, more nature, and with Rhode Island being the backdrop of that, there’s a lot of ocean-focused scenery, and jokes. It’s almost like Easter eggs for the New England readership. It definitely has its heart in Rhode Island and New England.

What is “Wallace the Brave’s” origin, is it based on anybody you knew?

I’ve always kind of said the two main characters are Wallace and his best friend, Spud, and they’re opposites, but they’re very good friends. They counter each other’s weirdness and they appreciate each other’s weirdness, even if it’s a different kind of weirdness. The two characters are sort of my two personalities, just separated and magnified, and that’s where you kind of get the Wallace and Spud character. Wallace is who I want to be on a daily basis — positive, uplifting, and a ride or die friend — and Spud is the understated nervous worrier, which on my worst days I can be.

Do you think these characters all balance themselves out?

Balance is tricky. It’s more of about being true to the characters and giving them depth. I try to make them more than just two-dimensional characters, like, that one’s the nerd and that one’s the sports jock, because I have two kids, and they and their friends are not one-dimensional. They have many layers, I try to incorporate that with the way they interact with each other.

Are comparisons to Calvin and Hobbes humbling?

Oh, I love it. It’s one of the best comics ever made. I’ve had, and I get a lot of, comparisons with Calvin and Hobbs, Cul de Sac, and Peanuts, all awesome comics to be compared to. I will absolutely take it as a compliment.

Did you have any missteps on the way to syndication?

I’ve had a lot of failures in the cartoon world. I mean, I’ve probably had three or four comics before “Wallace the Brave,” and they progressively got better. The one before “Wallace the Brave” was called “Ordinary Bill,” and it had a little bit of a readership, and it was sort of that web-comic model, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t a great comic, and I abandoned it once the idea for “Wallace” came to me.

Why do you think comics about kids experiencing life unplugged — collecting bugs and flying kites — connects with readers right now?

It serves the same purpose as the comics serve in the newspaper as a whole. It’s a bit of escapism from the world. I want to live more like Wallace, but I’m still in front of a computer a lot, still checking out social media, so I think it’s a bit of escapism. One thing I’ve noticed — because as my kids come into reading age and are starting to read the comic more seriously — they’re taking cues from it. They want to be like the characters in it. I’m hoping a little bit of that trickles down to the kid audience, where they take a moment more to explore the world around them.

Are you using a computer to draw or hand-drawing your comic strip?

I am a dinosaur when it comes to that because I am still working pen and paper. I will usually watercolor them, but for for print in the Boston Globe, they’ll be colored digitally, just because it reproduces better.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

The Boston Globe’s weekly Ocean State Q&A features Rhode Islanders who are starting new businesses or nonprofits, conducting groundbreaking research, or reshaping the state’s economy. Send tips and suggestions to rinews@globe.com.

Carlos Muñoz can be reached at carlos.munoz@globe.com. Follow him @ReadCarlos and on Instagram @Carlosbrknews.

The request encapsulates UVM’s strategy to withstand the forces hammering higher education: Schools are closing; federal support is going away; and the shrinking population of college-aged young adults is leaving all but the most elite schools fiercely competing for students. This “demographic cliff” is a five-alarm bell higher education insiders have been ringing for decades, and UVM, the flagship school of a greying state, is feeling the heat. It is suffering through a $12 million budget deficit and expects the incoming class of freshmen students to decline by 15 percent this fall.

At this ominous moment, UVM is betting that athletic amenities, such as a bouldering wall, hydrotherapy pools, and a new basketball court, will help balance the scales.

Tromp ultimately got the state money and says donors have lined up an additional $51 million. (UVM still needs another $32 million for the renovations.)

Once completed, the project will transform the school’s athletic complex and create the largest indoor venue in Vermont, a 5,000-seat space for concerts, events, and sports games of all levels. There will be more gym space for students, shinier offices for coaches, and a hospitality suite for athletics donors. University officials estimate the improvements would double use of the facilities and serve both students and everyday Vermonters.

Yet more than anything, the project is a not-so-secret admissions ploy, as sports and the social culture around it become ever-bigger factors in where applicants decide to go to college.

“A lot of this is about enrollment needs,” said Dominique Baker, a higher education policy expert at the University of Delaware. “It’s about trying to ensure that if a student is admitted to both UVM and another institution, that Vermont has a fighting chance.”

This is not exactly a new phenomenon. Even in the ’80s, the so-called Flutie effect — named for Boston College football great Doug Flutie — illustrated how a single star athlete can drive a bump in applications. Sports powerhouses, including Alabama and Michigan, draw eyeballs and multimillion-dollar profits from athletics. And smaller local schools, including Stonehill, Nichols College, and the University of New Haven, have beefed up sports programs to lure students.

UVM is not expecting to challenge the powerhouses of the NCAA. It does not have a varsity football program, by far the richest of college sports, but is known instead for hockey and basketball. Its men’s soccer team is highly ranked, winning the NCAA Division 1 national championship in 2024, and skiing at nearby mountain resorts is a bonus for many applicants. A high number of UVM students, about 2,500 of 14,000, also play club sports.

But Katelyn Figueiredo, a member of the women’s soccer team, said fans at UVM games are mostly other athletes.

“The study body is less interested in traditional sports,” said Figueiredo, who is also a marketing intern for UVM athletics.

In a state with an aging population, UVM has long relied on recruiting students from outside Vermont. Currently, almost 80 percent of UVM students come from out of state, the highest share of any flagship public school.

But prospective students from elsewhere in New England are increasingly drawn to the tailgate culture and lower tuition costs of Southern schools. And losing them would be a crisis.

With little state funding, UVM already ranks among the most expensive public universities nationwide, at $70,000 a year for out-of-state students. Most of its revenue is from tuition, although nearly half of current students who are Vermont residents attend school tuition-free. Before 2024, the university had not increased tuition for five straight years.

While many universities have emphasized new amenities over the years, the expense of gyms and climbing walls inevitably adds to the ever-higher price for families, research shows.

But at UVM, the recreational areas for students are a key weakness. Admissions tours skip the athletic facilities, and with just 7,500 square feet of fitness space, UVM lags other New England public universities. Students in surveys blast the facilities for being “antiquated” and “too crowded.” Some prefer to pay for private, off-campus gym memberships instead, according to a UVM student government resolution.

In a statement, university spokesperson Adam White called the renovation of the multipurpose center “essential to the high-quality campus experience today’s students expect.”

Strategically investing in recreational facilities is a way for UVM to attack its challenges, rather than give in, said Krista Trofka, a government and education expert at commercial real estate firm JLL.

“That being said, we are in something of an arms race related to athletic investment,” she said. “Is it fully sustainable?”

When Tromp, the UVM president, lobbied state lawmakers, she cited the small facilities in a recent decision to limit participation in a high school robotics competition. The Harlem Globetrotters told the school it may no longer be able to play there, she said.

Tromp recalled even musician Sting once joked that playing at UVM gave him a weird tinge of nostalgia.

“It’s been a long time since I played at a high school gym,” she quoted him saying in 1991.

Upgrading the facilities has long been on UVM’s agenda. The school began construction in 2019, but the COVID pandemic interrupted the work. Steel beams for new buildings went unused, although UVM has completed some piecemeal updates in recent years, including revamping the locker room for hockey and adding training facilities.

In the May legislative hearing, UVM director of government relations Wendy Koenig estimated that, once the funding is in hand, the construction would take three years to finish.

“You can tell by what we’re saying this morning that we are motivated to get this done,” she said.

Until then, a banner near the existing basketball court that reads “the wait is almost over,” put up five years ago, is “a running joke on campus,” said UVM student government president Kennedy Connors.

“Like, when is the wait over?”

Meanwhile, UVM is cutting costs elsewhere. It reduced its annual budget by 3.25 percent this spring and chose to forgo raises for senior leaders. The university is also reevaluating its vast real estate portfolio in Burlington and rural Vermont. It had previously eliminated low-enrollment humanities classes.

Brit Williams, an associate professor of education at UVM, said she supports using state money for forward-thinking moves. She also noted the athletics complex will benefit Greater Burlington, which “does not have as many spaces and places to host events, to build community.”

“We can’t cut our way to a successful financial future,“ Williams said. “I cannot confidently say that [athletics] will be the solution. Not one thing will change the trajectory of our institution. But a bunch of small changes could help move the needle.”

And Vermont and its colleges need to make bold moves to galvanize shrinking cities and retain residents, said Kevin Chu, executive director of the Vermont Futures Project, a nonprofit think tank that promotes economic growth in the state.

Green Mountain, Goddard, and Sterling colleges all closed recently, and the Vermont towns around them are struggling in their absence. The school-age population in the state is also declining at an alarming rate.

In that sense, Chu said, $12 million is an investment in the next generation of Vermont talent. Given the state’s small size, even a small amount goes a long way.

“Part of the pitch is that the investment would yield returns for Vermont,” Chu said. “We’re either going to be a leader for what to do or what not to do.”

In the meantime, students such as native Vermonter Oliver Szott are excited for the changes. The success of men’s soccer boosted pride in Vermont sports, and games for Vermont Green FC, a pre-professional team that has its home matches at UVM, sell out “practically immediately,” Szott said.

For applicants to UVM, Szott can see how athletics would be a “differentiating factor” against other options, he said.

“Whether it will be successful in increasing enrollment,” he said, “that is yet to be seen.”

Diti Kohli can be reached at diti.kohli@globe.com. Follow her @ditikohli_.