On a return from from Florida back to New Hampshire I saw it. Off in the distance this towering building of rust and steel. I had to get down there. From the highway I could see it was a small town that was built up around this mill. The mill had been closed for many years. That was evident. But was it empty. People had been here. The pant on the walls the empty beer bottles. As easy as it was to walk around the gate I am sure it was a local teen party spot.
My family hated for me as I ran around grabbing images of what I knew later would tell a story. I am not sure of the true stories that took place here. Maybe some day I will return and spend more time.