If you're not familiar with Lawndale's historic mill, it may already be too late

How many people could be put to work renovating an old mill of several thousand square feet? That possibility will be gone forever once the mill and its unique and soaring architecture, its solid floor and thick walls and imposing elevation are reduced from a one-hundred-twenty-two year old structure to a pile of recyclable pieces and truckload after truckload going into a construction and demolition landfill space.

The end of the line for Lawndale's 1888 mill building with its myriad of changes, additions and subtractions over the years saddens me more than I can say. I grew up in its shadow along with many, many others. How many thousands were deeply affected by that cotton mill culture just in our small town that would in its day employ two or three hundred citizens at any given time? I can trace my family history deep into the mill's existence from my grandfather who moved from Morganton to work as the freight agent for the Lawndale Railway, to his bride, who was the granddaughter of the founder, Major Henry Franklin Schenck. Her father Thomas Ramsaur was a partner in the earliest mill begun a mile away on Knob Creek in 1873. Many of my friends, my pastors and teachers, and the folks who I looked up to were a part of that mill as employees and others living in its wake, trading and participating in the push-pull of life dominated by “the mill”.

But if I am unable to be completely objective about what the Major would often call “this place” in his letters to business contacts, suppliers, and potential customers, I think it allows me to see what a mistake we make to allow this physical presence to go away from us at this time. A few short years ago, less than ten actually, Cleveland Mills or Cleveland CaroKnit as it was then known, was still a thriving, successful part of the Spartan Mills conglomerate to which it had been sold. People lost their jobs in a nano-second through no fault of their own or even the business. Spartan got in financial difficulty, and the whole thing went down. But the building stood. That was 2003.

A Mexican national came to town promising to try to make a go of it. The county tried to help out with incentives of some sort. Activity didn't last too long. Machinery was sold off, or moved out of the country. Then a sort of “demolition by neglect” took hold. Metal, anything of value was removed. Thieves took some of it. A few folks still hoped for better days, but even they were doubtful.

Last year, a couple of local fellows bought the property. They hope to put people back to work in the newer more modern buildings, but they have to spend hard cash to re-fit the buildings with the most basic of equipment, lighting and electrical systems. There is a legacy waste-water treatment plant that was built in the 1970's when the mill upgraded its systems to comply with new environmental regulations. For years the mill had used the river as a dump for chemicals in one way or another. Folks were beginning to realize this was not sustainable and improvements were made. But now the system is a liability and money needs to be spent to retire that facility properly.

So the business plan calls for pulling whatever cash can be extracted one more time from the old building. This time it's for good. The pieces of the puzzle so carefully and skillfully laid that have served so many for so long and are still rock solid and mostly sound will be beaten down with massive equipment. As much care will be taken as possible to preserve the value in the materials that might have enough value to make it worth while.

In a county working hard to preserve history, it is ironic that our most impressive monuments to the industrialism that sustained our people for the longest time in our history are one by one being dismantled as their time comes. These buildings represent opportunity for the future. They can be useful and they can help tell our story, or a great big chunk of it. Not all pretty, not all fair, not all positive, but the stories are there. Once the great factories are gone, it will be all on paper, in some memories, a lot of it lost. Who would believe that this kind of grandeur, if a factory could be called grand, would have existed in a place like Lawndale?

These mills are our potential Williamsburgs, or a big part of it. There is so much that could be done. The Historic Shelby Foundation and Cleveland Community College are working to establish a Preservation Technology curriculum to train people in taking advantage of historical opportunities in the building trades. What a laboratory this type of building could be.

If allowed to survive, stabilized, the right plans made, North Carolina and federal tax credits and specific incentives for mills utilized, the possibilities are just about endless. Outposts for county government services, police, college or other education, medical, retail, residential endeavors could be on the list of uses. Starter businesses will very often take advantage of historic properties because the rents are usually much lower than new construction.

Historically, architecturally and culturally this particular mill building is the heart of this struggling but proud little community. The visual power of the site and the craftsmanship and design it displays are astounding. It will be great if the new owners can get something going in the more modern buildings that they see as more amenable to the needs of the industries and enterprises that they are seeking. Putting people to work and making some money in the process is honorable and commendable. Major Schenck would surely approve of that. None of us can say what he would recommend as far as the value of the structure that he and probably hundreds of folks built on the First Broad River in 1888.

I am going to say that it would be smarter to make good use of it (which might for now be just stabilization and buying time) than to throw it all away or cash it in for whatever the salvage would bring. I will also say that I think this site, in the small town out in that end of the county, might be our most important surviving structure if we had to rank it, second only to the county court house. Let's invest in the future by valuing the past. I am sorry if I have failed to bring this to your attention in time to act. I pray that it is not too late.