Reflections on an historic day in Berlin, NH

I felt like an intruder at a funeral. Today was both the end of an era and the beginning of the new century for Berlin, NH. Three of four smoke stacks that dominated the landscape for a century were demolished this morning in what started out as a big Berlin block party and ended in semi-disaster. Almost everyone in town turned out to watch the historic moment. The explosions were scheduled for 9, but cars started lining the better viewing spots as early as 7 am. In the poring rain, people had parties on roof tops, thrashed thru the puckerbrush, mounted ladders and vans, and did whatever they needed to do to capture the historic moment. Some came because they were merely curious, others came to say farewell to the symbols of an industry that shaped their lives, their families and the town they call home. The night before had been one long wake. Former mill workers and residents drove in from as far away as Connecticut to witness the demolition. They gathered at traditional watering holes like Fagins Pub and the Millyard, to reminisce, connect with friends, and trade stories. When I asked them why they were here, most of the them started with words like "My grandfather/father/uncle/mother worked in the mill and I wanted to witness the end of an era." All were excited about the prospect of a new Berlin, sans smell, and sans stacks. Which of course generated lots of questions and discussion about the proposed Laidlaw biomass plant.
At 8:50 Saturday morning, just when the downpour was at its worst, the first of three warning whistles was sounded. Then there was a one minute warning and finally a deafening BOOM, and the first of the stacks went down in spectacular display, falling neatly in a plume of dark dust. Unfortunately it was raining so hard most of my pictures are pretty awful, but with luck someone else will have better ones, given the hundreds of camera shutters that went off.

A few minutes later, there was a second warning siren, and the oldest of the four stacks, collapsed in an even bigger cloud of dust.

Then it was time for the last, newest and tallest of the three stacks. The warning came, the sirens sounded, the boom reverberated thru the valley. And nothing happened. By this time I had run 4 miles in the rain to get to the site, and was pretty thoroughly soaked, and frozen through and through. So after waiting about 20 minutes I started heading back to our office. I passed the VIP tent, where I ran into Mary Wagner, one of our star employees, who also happened to have worked in the mill as an engineer. Coming from a third generation mill family, and married to the former GM at the mill, there are few people anywhere who know more about that mill.

According to Mary, the inside scoop was that they hadn't put quite enough dynamite in that third stack, so they were adding more. Mind you, this enormous stack was already compromised, but the brave (or crazy) demolition experts headed down to the base to add more dynamite. An excavator was called in and there was a bunch of activity around the base for the next half hour or so.

By this time, as you can see, my camera was pretty wet and I was so cold my fingers could barely work the buttons. But nonetheless I was ready when the warning siren went off. Poised perfectly to capture the demise of this last and final stack. I was much closer this time, and the explosion was deafening. And the stack didn't move.

Now in merry old England, when the hangman's noose failed to kill the criminal, his or her sentence was commuted, figuring that god or fate had stepped in. I figured, fate was intervening in the life of this particular stack, so I headed into the office. I hadn't been there for more than ten minutes when we heard another roar and felt a rumble, only to look out the window and see that the stack was no longer there. Gravity had done its work.

But now this day had gone from merely a minor embarassment for North American Dismantling, to a real disaster. The demolition crew had apparently been cutting rebar on the base when the stack gave way, falling unexpectedly on power lines and sending debris flying. Not only were several of the demolition crew injured but the debris flew through nearby windows, damaged cars and sent a total of 7 people to the hospital.

I took one last picture of the now horizontal stack (unlike the other ones that had crumbled in to a pile of rubble, this one was still intact) and headed for a hot shower. On the way out of town I drove across the bridge just north of town, and was stunned by what a difference the loss of those three towers made to the skyline. I don't know what I was expecting, but I had no idea that it would make such a difference to Berlin cityscape. But then I thought of the first time I saw ground zero. As someone who was born in New York, I'd gotten used to the skyline with the distinctive twin towers of the World Trade Center, so I was shocked into a stunned and reverential silence when I first saw the skyline of New York without them. Today's events were minuscule compared to the events of Sept 2001. But everything is relative. To the 12,000 residents of Berlin, I'm guessing that September 15, 2007 will be a day that will be remembered for just as long. For more pictures check out my flickr set.