Читать книгу I Tried Not To Cry - Michael Beattie - Страница 6

Introduction

Life in that small paper mill village of Eagleville, although tough on my family at times, was a most positive experience for me, having been raised in such a loving home environment. Although poor by any standards, I never realized it, as everyone around me in that small paper mill village was experiencing the same struggles on a daily basis. My folks were a kind and loving, yet stern couple, so much in love with each other that their kindness radiated onto everyone who knew them.

Maybe a cotton mill would be a better description for the use of the mill rather than a paper mill. Then again, it could be called a weapon parts manufacturing mill as well. It seems the directors of the nearby Willimantic Cotton Manufacturing Company purchased forty-four acres of land from the estate of Jehial King in 1814. The parcel was situated along the banks of the beautiful Willimantic River which made it a suitable site for a mill location, as the water from the river could provide the needed power to operate the mill machinery, much the same as it did for their existing mill location approximately seven miles downstream from this site. The village that would form around and near the mill became known as Eagleville. Some say the name came in response of the large number of eagles that populated themselves along the river in the area. We may never truly know for sure.

In 1822, Eagle Manufacturing Company was incorporated in the village of Eagleville, where cotton cloth and linen was produced. In 1841, after the mill changed hands several times, “land with a cotton factory and other outbuildings named Eagle Factory” was sold to a Thomas Clark. Clark later sold the same land and buildings to the Eagle Manufacturing Company. In 1861, the Eagle Manufacturing Company was awarded a government contract to manufacture twenty-five thousand locks for compression rifle muskets of the Springfield type. The locks were manufactured in Eagleville and stamped with “US” and the date of manufacture. In 1863, Eagle Manufacturing was sold to the American Woolen Company of New York. Two years later, John L Ross of Providence, Rhode Island, purchased the mills and renamed them the Phoenix Manufacturing Company, retaining ownership until 1929.

The mill produced a variety of products including closely woven cotton that was used to cover the wings of aircraft during the 1918 war efforts. The mill and its buildings were sold at auction in 1931 and later were converted into a paper facility that produced shoe lasts, from a sort of cardboard material. Over time, the mill was abandoned and finally burned to the ground in 1955 by the local fire department after it became a danger to the community. My only recollection of the mill was that of a paper facility, the very one that my father and uncles worked at after their return home from World War II.

Prologue

It’s beginning to snow, and my hands were throbbing cold from the wind even with my wool mittens on. Clutching the handlebar grips on my bike as I moved along ever so slowly, the wind was burning my face. And now snow! I was forced to get off my bike in order to climb the hill in front of me as my balance in the snow was making it difficult to stay upright. I needed to hurry, or I’d never make it in time. The difficulty of pushing this load uphill in the snow was getting harder, but I couldn’t stop. I must continue as I needed the money. I had an obligation to finish, and what would I be thought of if I ever quit a failure?

Finally, I made it to my last stop. Removing my mittens revealing my red numb fingers, I reached for the last paper in my basket. I placed the paper inside the front enclosed porch area of Mrs. Dore’s home as I normally did. This was my last stop and the farthest away from my starting point of the little general store where I rode to get my bundle of morning newspapers to deliver each morning before school. Now I needed to ride as fast as I could downhill on the now snow-covered road back home so I could get ready to walk to the bus stop in order to get to school on time. I never knew this was going to be part of the deal when I agreed to deliver the morning and evening papers.

Some days can be tough on a newspaper boy in rural eastern Connecticut, especially at the age of twelve. Being the second oldest in a family of six living in a poor mill village left little extra for anyone, so I became an entrepreneur at an early age in order to provide myself with items I desired. Two paper routes, a weekly TV Guide route, selling Grit magazine and greeting cards door-to-door, working part-time at the local general store Champlions, and, of course, shoveling snow or raking leaves for money. The elder Mrs. Champlion (called Susie by the older folks in the village) at the general store told me that if I could work for her, I could get a job working for anyone, and would be able to complete any task given to me. At twelve years of age, I didn’t have any idea what she meant by that statement, which was instilled into me over and over again as I worked for her every weekend. But now I understand! Yes, Mrs. Champlion, I so very much, understand!