Covering a New Hampshire Blanket Mill

From Dave Brigham:

When I drive by a place like this, and I don't have my camera....

....you know I'm gonna return to shoot it. Took me several months to get to the former Troy Mills complex in New Hampshire with my camera in hand, but I never doubted I would.

In the late winter of 2020, after jamming with The Slade Wiggins Band in Keene, NH, I took a funky way home to Massachusetts. I was a bit lost as I cruised through Marlborough and into Troy, but not worried. As I wound my way along Monadnock Street, all of a sudden I found myself staring at that industrial behemoth in the photo above.

"Where the hell am I?" I wondered. I slowed down and marveled. "I need to get back here," I told myself. Within 20 seconds, I was back on South Main Street, my usual route heading southeast back toward home. So I knew exactly where to go whenever I was able to return.

Earlier this month, I finally got my chance to kick around the town of Troy, including, of course, the complex that was once home to Troy Mills, which made horse blankets. I will write about other backside features of Troy in another post.

This old mill, which was established in the mid-19th century (I've been unable to pin down an exact date), is suffering like so many other industrial complexes I've featured on the blog over the years. And of course the town -- population 2,145 at the 2010 census -- is suffering too, both in terms of having a gigantic eyesore in its midst, and a loss of potential employment and tax revenue. But there may be hope on the horizon.

From Wikipedia: Troy Mills "served as the backbone of the town's economy for nearly 100 years. In 1865, the company was sold by founder Thomas Goodall, who in 1867 would establish Goodall Mills in Sanford, Maine. Troy Mills declared bankruptcy in late 2001, and ceased operations in 2002."

For a time, the mill complex housed two spin-off companies: Knowlton Nonwovens and Cosmopolitan Textiles, Wikipedia continues. The former company was acquired by Northeastern Nonwovens and moved elsewhere. I'm unsure what became of the latter outfit. In 2008, a plan was announced to renovate Troy Mills into a retirement community, according to to Wikipedia. I'm guessing the financial calamity of that year put the kibosh on that plan. At this point, there is little to nothing going on at the old blanket mill.

Here's a quick history of the years since the mill shut down, courtesy of this Keene Sentinel article:

"[T]he textile operation had left the land and buildings polluted enough that it was designated a federal Superfund site, and it’s easy to see how the closure could wreak havoc with the town for decades....The town’s signature business wound up in bankruptcy court in West Virginia, where the company’s headquarters had relocated. The town, seeking to protect a major source of revenue — Troy Mills accounted for about $1 million, or 8 percent, of the town’s tax receipts — and nearby property owners and residents, held a lien on the property. The court eventually awarded the entire site to the town.

"And that was the beginning of a lengthy saga that included the selectmen setting up a new panel specifically to deal with the property, multiple developers expressing interest, millions of dollars spent cleaning up the pollution, and lots of infighting and scandal. Much of this might have been avoided had the selectmen opted simply to auction off the property immediately. Planning board members and others argued for that approach, and brought the issue to voters, but as with other huge, vacated industrial sites in the region, the potential was too much to ignore.

"So it has sat, though not inactive. At times, parts of the buildings have been leased to other businesses. And there’s been [an] ongoing cleanup effort. The EPA substantially finished its Superfund work in 2005, but that was only part of the pollution. The rest was cleaned up over the next decade or so using more than $1.5 million in Brownfields grants and other funding.

"[T]he Troy Redevelopment Group, appointed by the selectmen, entertained a variety of developers and plans. Among the various visions woven for the site: residential condo units; senior assisted living; an upscale grocery store; a heated indoor swimming pool; a pharmacy; a health club; rooftop gardens; a movie theater; a hydroponic fish farm, distribution network and farm-to-table restaurant; storage units; a conference facility; high-speed Internet service; educational and research facilities; a charter school; and, of course, manufacturing.

An out-of-state developer announced a plan to spend upwards of $30 million to convert the mill into some of the above-mentioned uses, but eventually bowed out. In May 2020, a group called Cougar Capital offered to buy the site from the town, and to create 135 apartments there.

I'm not sure if an agreement was ever made with Cougar Capital, which, among other projects, has converted a former toy factory in Leominster, Mass., to apartments. I'll update this post if and when I find out more.

In addition to site clean-up and demolition, another thing a potential developer would have to deal with is the river running through the site.

Also on site (I think; this might be a separate property) is an old barn that looks great from the front....

...but which is collapsing in the rear.

I hope something gets developed at the old mill site. So many places like this have been turned into apartments/condos, senior living, artist lofts, etc. Hard to know what would work best in a quiet town in southwestern New Hampshire....stay tuned for a post about other stuff I found in my trek through Troy.

Hay, You Should Go With the Grain

From Dave Brigham:

I have a thing for this building.

The faded and peeling paint, the line of metal stars under the top row of windows, the ghost sign, the sense that a hay wagon could roll out that garage door at any moment.

Located amid low-slung light-industrial buildings, auto body shops, a restaurant and a bookstore on Felton Street in Waltham, Mass., hard by the commuter train tracks, this place must have a million stories to tell. Erected in 1851, this building is known historically as the Gillum Barnes Lumber Yard - Waltham Iron Foundry, per MACRIS. That same source indicates the building's common name is the Frederick Buttrick Steamsaw and Planing Mill. More things to love.

I have taken pictures of this place before, and will surely do so again. Let's dig into it a little more.

The ghost sign speaks to me more than any other element of this building. I make out "GRAIN" and "HAY." According to my old friend MACRIS, 22 Felton Street "was used by several grain and feed companies, including General Mills, until the mid-1950's." So that explains the ghost sign. But there's a LOT more history to this place.

Let's check out the front.

I know these types of stars have become fashionable on homes and businesses that want that rustic look. But these details are the real deal, as is the hoist (or whatever you call it) at the roofline. According to MACRIS, "After the early Boston Manufacturing Co. buildings (which I recently wrote about here), this is the oldest brick industrial structure in Waltham."

Nice!

In 1851, Gillum Barnes, a lumber dealer, acquired the property from Josiah Maynard, according to MACRIS. Despite the fact that the building is known historically by his name, Barnes may not have actually operated a lumber business here, MACRIS continues. He sold the property in 1854 to Joseph Harwood. The site is listed in an 1854 Waltham map as part of the Waltham Iron Foundry. The foundry "specialized in making machinery and apparatus for gas works," per MACRIS. The foundry's founder, R.P. Davis, was the builder of the Waltham Gas Light Co.'s first buildings (see February 7, 2015, "The Price of Gas," for more about Waltham Gas Light).

In 1862, Francis Buttrick acquired the property, and eventually opened his steam saw and planing mill. What's a steam saw? Check out the video below:

Buttrick, who was one of the most prominent Waltham builders and developers of the late 19th century, sold the Felton Street property in 1908 to Richard Pope, who used it as a grist mill. As mentioned above, a number of grain and feed companies took over the site in the ensuing years.

So what's the building used for these days? Good question. Best I can figure, at least in part it serves as a warehouse for a nearby music store.

At 719 Main Street is located Main Street Music, which specializes in pianos and organs, and which I'm guessing is a successor company to The Piano Man listed on the sign in the window of 22 Felton Street, above.

At some point, the building was also home to Wendy K and whatever her business was.

For another Felton Street feature, see February 11, 2016, "Decommissioned," about an old VFW site.

Collapsing Old Buildings to Make Way for Shiny Apartments

From Dave Brigham:

This post is all about playing the long game.

For more than five years I'd driven past the dilapidated house above, which is in Sudbury, Mass., just over the Concord line on Route 117. No, the windows weren't missing until recently, but this place definitely had that creepy-old-house-from-"Scooby-Doo" vibe going.

At first, the house seemed to be in OK shape, but the barn I spied up the hill through the woods was definitely in a major state of disrepair, although still partway vertical.

Over time, however, I noticed that the house and the trees and garage and yard looked worse and worse, like a rotting corpse. I saw an old pickup truck in the driveway, so I figured somebody lived there. Eventually, the barn collapsed completely. I wanted to shoot this place so badly, even though I don't normally care much for such places.

In late December or early January, I realized I hadn't seen the pickup in quite a while. And then, one day, contractors erected a fence around the house and marked the house with a red "X." I knew my time to check out this property was short, as both of those things meant demolition was imminent.

So, with my dog waiting in the car, I pulled off Route 117 and walked around, shooting quickly, all the while concerned that I would be busted for trespassing. I'm such a chicken when it comes to that. I was surprised at the condition of the barn.

But what really shocked me was the back of the house, where somebody had been living perhaps a year ago.

The house is listed online as dating to 1955; I'm guessing the barn was older. The property was sold in April 2020 for $845,000. In many towns outside of Boston, when a place like this gets demolished, one of two things happens: a McMansion goes up, or the developer crams as many townhouses onto the site as is allowed by law.

Because this property abuts a former quarry that was once owned by the Town of Sudbury, the plan here is larger. Much larger.

Let's start from the beginning. I'll try to keep this brief.

In February 2016, developer Chris Claussen submitted to the Town of Sudbury a Chapter 40B proposal to build a massive apartment complex in the center of town. Chapter 40B is a state statute that enables local Zoning Boards of Appeals to approve affordable housing developments under flexible rules if at least 20-25% of the units have long-term affordability restrictions, according to the Mass. Housing and Community Development web site. The goal of the statute is to allow developers to override local zoning bylaws in order to increase the stock of affordable housing in municipalities where less than 10% of the housing stock is defined as affordable, per this web site.

"The project proposes 13 buildings, some as tall as 50 feet and four stories high, 250 residential units, and 500 parking spaces," according to the Oppose Sudbury Station web site. Sudbury is a town with a deep Colonial history and a largely white, fairly well-to-do population. As you might imagine, people were up in arms over this housing proposal, right in the center of the historic town.

There was a lawsuit and, I imagine, protests and angry letters to the editor. Folks were surely in high dudgeon.

Fast forward to late 2018. The Board of Selectmen voted to do a switcheroo, giving Claussen and his development team the former town-owned quarry along Route 117, in exchange for the nearly 40 acres of land where Sudbury Station would have risen in all its metropolitan menace.

Earlier in 2018, the Town had "put out a request for proposals to develop the Melone property," aka the quarry site, per this Metrowest Daily News article. In addition to Claussen and his Quarry North group, San Diego-based EDF Renewables submitted a proposal for a solar farm and Sudbury-based Cavicchio Greenhouses Inc. put forward plans for an agricultural project.

Quarry North secured the former town property in late 2018. I'm not sure how things shook down for Claussen to buy the old house and barn. Judging by how run-down the property was, perhaps the owner died and the sale was made quite easily with his or her estate. It's conceivable that the owner of the house was holding out and once Claussen received the quarry property from the town, he or she got what they wanted and moved out.

Either way, it's all done now. The new development -- which will be known as Cold Brook Crossing, and which will also include property in abutting Concord -- will include 274 units, a small retail component, recreational facilities and more. The developer applied last year to install a private wastewater treatment plant on the site, as there are wetlands on the property.

This will be quite a change for this area, which still contains quite a bit of farmland, but not unprecedented. A quarter-mile from the proposed Cold Brook Crossing is an office complex (where my son's school is), as well as a few condo developments, all built on a former farm.

For more posts about Sudbury, check out: February 20, 2019, "Finding Some Cool, Mostly True, Memorials in Sudbury"; August 30, 2016, "The Tavern of Death"; and February 17, 2016, "Bunker Buster."