#Papertownstrong

#Papertownstrong. You’ll see these words on car windows, on store kiosks and church signs scattered throughout my small town. They are words both of desperation and of hope.

Canton, NC is a small town in Western North Carolina, about 40 miles from the Tennessee State line. It’s small with less than 5000 residents within the city limits, easily passed over for the showier tourist towns that surround it.https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=how+many+people+live+in+canton+nc&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8

A Blue Collar History

Canton’s claim to fame, or perhaps to notoriety is the huge papermill that takes up about 200 acres of land right in the middle of town. The mill was built on the Pigeon River to take advantage of the abundant water supply. Over a hundred years ago, the site was deemed ideal to make paper. And the locals were strong, independent, and willing to work hard for a good paycheck. It was a perfect match for a long time.

Canton became a boom town around the turn of the last century. And history says that the Great Depression of the 1930’s was barely felt here, as the mill required a steady stream of workers, and the need for paper didn’t wane. It is not unusual to talk to people whose parents, grandparents, and great grandparents worked in the mill and retired from it. 

Canton is proud of her blue-collar heritage. She hosts a three day Labor Day festival and the oldest continual Labor Day parade in the United States. She is #papertownstrong. 

“It smells like money.”

Making paper is a dirty process. And the town came to be known for the billowing smoke and the stench akin to rotten cabbage that seemed to permeate every inch of the infrastructure.  And neighboring Tennessee didn’t appreciate the discolored water pumped back into the Pigeon River after it was used to make paper from wood pulp.

In recent years, much of the mill has been updated to reduce emissions. But comment on the smell to any native, and in true mountain fashion, they will retort, “It smells like money.” In fact, our local brewery capitalized on the sentiment and brews a beer called Smells Like Money. https://foresthistory.org/digital-collections/champion-pulp-and-paper-mill-in-canton-nc-timeline/

Living in Mayberry

I bought a small mill house and moved to Canton in 2005. While I wanted a nice neighborhood, I didn’t expect to fall in love with Canton. But I did. It is home to me in a way that is hard to explain. I’ve told a lot of people that I live in Mayberry. My neighborhood has a 1950’s vibe. Unlike many places where people move to become anonymous, we take pride in knowing each other’s names and watching out for one another. We have cook outs in the summertime, roast marshmallows around fire pits in the fall and watch the kids sled in the winter months.

Hard Times in #papertownstrong

We’ve weathered some tough times recently. In 2004, twin hurricanes swept up from the Gulf of Mexico, dumping nearly 2 feet of rain in the watershed in just 24 hours.  Much of Haywood County flooded displacing hundreds. https://www.themountaineer.com/news/canton-has-a-long-history-of-flooding/article_f9c5e3a4-87ab-11ec-abd7-9fe45a228349.html

Again in 2021, a hurricane stormed in from the South. Since our region was an experiencing a rainy summer, the already swollen Pigeon couldn’t contain the deluge. This flood , however, reshaped the topography of the area, washing out whole communities, drowning 6 people and displacing hundreds. Many of us were in shock, but we owned the description #papertownstrong and went to work.

And again, the mill sustained serious damage. In fact,  many thought it was the end. But crews worked feverishly to clean up the mess and restart the massive machinery that filtered the town’s wastewater and made paper for food cartons. 

I think we convinced ourselves that the mill was untouchable, and that #papertownstrong would be a permanent description.  But nothing lasts forever.

The end of an era?

But, this past week, there was a meeting between corporate executives and union workers. They made a decision based on money, not history.  https://www.foxbusiness.com/economy/century-old-nc-paper-mill-employs-1100-abruptly-close-mayor-says-small-towns-soul-being-ripped-outThe mill will cease production by the end of the second quarter of 2023. In a little over three months, the massive smokestacks will no longer breathe steam and smoke into the mountain air. And the mill whistle will fall silent. The comforting hum of machinery will be heard no more.

The news spread like wildfire through the town and into the county. Shock gave way to anger and fear as the reality of the situation took hold. Too many of the workers found out they were losing their jobs by way the local news or social media. They felt wounded and betrayed. Even though they had given this mill their youth, their strength, their everything, It had reciprocated with good paychecks. But no more. The mill had survived war, natural disaster, and ecological protests only to be destroyed by economics, or some would argue, corporate greed.

These are uncertain times all over the nation and the world. We have all seen inflation consume more of our paychecks. Soaring fuel prices and supply chain interruptions have resulted in empty shelves in the “land of plenty”. The aftermath of the pandemic has left us distrustful and angry and lonely.

#Papertownstrong enough?

But for us here in Papertown, the uncertainty has risen to new heights. Our future stands in the balance. Underneath the bravado of #papertownstrong, there is fear that we might not be strong enough this time, that the small town on the banks of the Pigeon River might sink into oblivion.

A lesson from the Psalms

Moses understood uncertainty. He spent 40 years of his life leading over a million people through the wilderness, only to find himself banned from the promised land when it was almost within his grasp.

In Psalm 90, he comments on the brevity and uncertainty of life. But he begins with words of confidence in God.

“Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were born Or You gave birth to the earth and the world, Even from everlasting to everlasting You are God.”

But he turns his attention to the brevity of human life, and the death that seemed like it was everywhere around him. In verse 9, He says “For our days have dwindled away in Your fury, we have finished our days like a sigh. As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years, or if due to strength eighty years, Yet their pride is only trouble and tragedy; For it quickly passes and we disappear.”

There are days I feel the weight of those words, don’t you? Sometimes it seems that no matter how hard we try, how much effort we expend, it is futile. My millworker friends agree. Their lives and labor seem futile and unappreciated.

I’m glad Moses doesn’t end there. Like so many of the psalmists, he has an eternal perspective, and looks to God for relief. He ends with these words: “Let Your work appear to Your servants and Your majesty to their children. May the kindness of the Lord our God be upon us; And confirm for us the work of our hands; Yes, confirm the work of our hands.”

Fear or Faith? 

My friends and neighbors know where to turn in times like these. Yes, they are angry, frustrated, wounded, and worried. They don’t know how they’ll feed their families or pay their mortgages come July. Though their family roots go deep in Haywood County soil, they fear they may have to leave. They don’t know if their children will don Pisgah High School athletic uniforms or graduation gowns. Their mountain identity is at stake. https://inspireafire.com/how-to-pray-when-youve-lost-hope/

But we are defined by more than a paper mill. Before we are mountain people or mill workers, many of us are people of faith. The churches here are even older than the mill. And our faith may be shaken by current events, but it will not fail, even in these uncertain times. We are not just #papertownstrong. We are strong in God. 

Prayer in the park

Just a few hours after the news first leaked that the mill was closing, one of our churches announced that there would be a prayer gathering before the end of the week. So, this past Thursday night, I made my way downtown. I was a little late, and I couldn’t find a parking place right away. I walked about three blocks to my destination.

Sorrels Park is a grassy field in the center of town where we host concerts, Independence Day gatherings, and the town’s historic Labor Day celebrations. I saw hundreds of people scattered across the grass, their faces reflecting the stress of the past few days. Most were standing. Others sat in stadium chairs or reclined on blankets. 

This was not a time for denominational posturing or political speeches. This was time to seek God. Local pastors and leaders lead in prayer for strength, for wisdom, for answers.

Generations have prayed in this town. They prayed for the safe return of soldiers from both World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam, and every other place of harm. They prayed in the aftermath of 9/11. They have joined hands and prayed before rolling up their sleeves to shovel out mud and clear out homes and businesses so we could start over.

I remembered the words of King Josiah as he faced an army bigger and better prepared than his own. “Lord, we don’t know what to do. Our eyes are on You.” (II Chronicles 20:12 B, NIV)

Ask in faith, believing

The last speaker encouraged us to not give up, to keep praying until the last person had exited the mill. He urged us to pray that God would turn the situation around. I am convinced that He will provide a way out of what seems a hopeless morass. The solution He sends may look different than we envision. But He hears the cries of His people.

As the last prayer ended, and the crowd began to disburse, the mill whistle echoed once more through the streets of Canton in a final amen. #papertownstrong indeed.

 

Photos by Nann Anderson, Blake Stanbery, Jessi Hill

All photos used by permission

Unless otherwise noted, scripture references are from the NASB