Where the steam bellows from the tops of buildings, and the wind blows a pungent, distinct smell...
We inhabit but a small dot on a large map, the people of Franklin, Virginia. Not much goes on, not much seems to take place. It isn't a prime location for tourists. But if you do ever travel through Franklin, Virginia, you'll know. Our paper mill will be sure to greet you!
At first, you will seem unsure of what the smell could be. You will think it is impossible for the area to have life, mostly because the awful aroma can be related to what death must smell like. From a distance, you will witness steam rolling off the tops of buildings and through the air. This is where the action takes place. A few minutes after you first witness the smell, you will realize it has gone away. You will probably sigh of relief, thankful you no longer have to hold your breath. To you, it means nothing more than an inconvenience to have to drive through our city and inhale that horrid smell. To us, though, that smell means home.
Those of us who grew up around the paper mill have developed a love for that smell. Perhaps not with the scent itself, but definitely with the meaning behind it. That paper mill served as an income to so many families. It was "the talk" of our surrounding area for years. It was a place where lifelong friendships developed. Men and women worked hard each day to provide for their families. It was a beauty to see the giant Christmas tree lit up atop one of the buildings during the holidays. A bright, yellow star topped the tree, handmade by my own Grandfather.
When the paper mill began shutting down in 2009, it seemed like the world stopped. Hundreds of hard-working employees lost their jobs. Many were forced to pick up and move their family to another location where jobs were available. The smell disappeared. Machines stopped running. Steam no longer rolled through the clouds. It remained that way for about two years.
And then, our small community got word of a new opportunity. Our paper mill would be transformed into a mill for fluff pulp, an item in baby wipes and diapers. The mill has hired back employees over the last few years. Men and women are now able to provide for their families again on behalf of the fluff pulp mill. The white clouds of steam are rising into the air again. The mill has life in it. Old friendships are being revived and new friendships are being formed. The paper mill that once gave my Grandfather his career is now able to provide my brother with one.
Those traveling through the city of Franklin, Virginia may not understand the big deal about those large buildings or the reason the atmosphere smells the way it does, but that doesn't matter. Those of us who have been exposed to it our entire lives sure do appreciate every aspect of the mill and are grateful for the experiences and stories that come from it. And while the new scent is faint, we can't forget what it once was. That smell means home, forever and always.
