Even better reflections on Saturday's historic event

Like many of us, Racheal Stuart wasn't born in Berlin. She didn't grow up here, never worked in the mill, and doesn't have family here. She just loves the place. And she captured the emotions of the day perfectly. Since I couldn't put it any better myself, here are her words:

I’m a newcomer to Berlin, and a part-timer. I’ve been making the drive up from Concord every weekend for going on 3 years, and from the beginning I’ve had mixed feelings about the presence of the Mill. So I just didn’t know if I would cheer or cry when the stacks went down.

But to tell the truth, I just hated the smell. Aside from that I liked the presence of the Mill in the center of town. For me it was a symbol of the romantic history of this place and the people who have chosen to live her for the last 100 years or so. It was a living, breathing presence, a great friendly beast, and a reminder of when

Berlin was famous for papermaking - “the best in the world”.  I’m a walker, and I especially like walking through the city neighborhoods in the early morning when the streets are still. Often I would have the feeling that, aside from me and the Mill, the whole City was sleeping. One morning I was surprised by another walker, a not-so-young man heading down School Street, lunch bucket in hand and heading to work.  And, as is typical in this city, he gave me a cheery hello and commented on the magnificent sunrise. “It’s a beautiful day” we agreed.

I have a particularly vivid memory of one Friday evening, heading north toward the City on the Berlin-Gorham   Road, my eyes scanning the valley for my first sight of the stately pillars and their ever-present plume. Crisp Canadian air, glittering stars. And suddenly there they were, rising in the night sky, luminous and almost ghostly under a full, late winter moon. But the plume was not there. This was 2006 and the Mill had been closed for the last time. I mourned for my friend.

So here it is, 9:00 a.m. on September 15^th. Behind the old Notre Dame School a small crowd of people is hunched under umbrellas against the gray drizzle, joking and laughing, greeting friends and neighbors. The 5-minute warning sounds, 3 long, low blasts of the horn. The crowd grows silent. It feels like a sacred moment. And suddenly I don’t have to wonder if I’ll cheer or cry because I am crying. And I keep crying. I have a vision in my head that I can’t get rid of - a century of men and women, carrying their lunch buckets, on their way to work. The best in the world.

But Berlin doesn’t just have a history, it has a future too. I may be newcomer, but I’m not a short-timer. I expect to be here for a long, long time. I keep asking myself: “What will we be ‘Best in the World’ at in twenty years?” What will the next generation be proud of, and the generation after them? The Mill was here because of the incredible northern forest, the world-class rapids of the Androscoggin, and the innovation and hard work of people who chose to come here from all over the world. All of these resources are still here - they haven’t gone away. We can – we must use them wisely to build a future for our children and grandchildren, and a new history for Berlin and the region.