SLICE OF HISTORY WITH A SIDE OF LUNCH

There is something about the old mills.  It could be the brick, the architecture, the history, or the ghosts, but I find them fascinating. 

Today, before attending a grand wine tasting at one of my favorite shops, a friend and I meet for lunch.  We know that the grill near the wine store isn't open yet, but the tony place down the street opens at 11:30.  Or so we believe.

We arrive, park around back, and try the door to the restaurant.  It's locked.  This happened last time when the staff forgot to unlock the front door, so my friend and I enter the mill building and walk in through the wide-open indoor entrance.

No one acknowledges us at first, and then we are told that the place isn't really open for another ten minutes.  Instead of being invited to sit and wait, we are told to go back into the lobby.  This is awkward as two women are already at the bar with glasses of wine in their hands, happily sipping away.  Private party?  Special guests?  Or people just waiting for a table like we are?

No matter.  There is a little breakfast/lunch cafe inside the same building, so we go there, instead.  We have a fabulous lunch (BLT with avocado) then figure we should probably hit the ladies' room before heading to the grand tasting.

Now, I know I've written about this little gem of a building before, but I am not so sure if I sent pictures from inside the glassed-in atrium.  The building is an old mill, the Davis and Furber Machine Company.  Over a hundred years ago, the Schofield brothers brought their new and improved carding machine to the woolen industry, partially smuggled over from England and completed from memory in nearby Newburyport.  Supposedly, this machine shop (eventually Davis and Furber) housed the
original carding machine, at least for a while, and was the authorized parts maker for the area and beyond.  The Stevens and Marland families also got themselves involved in this whole mill business, and then the Suttons and Osgoods got their hands into it.  After passing through many hands and having an extra partner, finally this particular mill fell into the hands of George Davis and Charles Furber.

The machine shop produced machinery and replacement parts for mills all over the country (or, as big as the country was at the time).  Perhaps the original carding machine is now in the archives of the Lowell Mills Historical Park; I'm sure I could find out.  There is an original Schofield carding machine at Old Sturbridge Village, and Henry Ford may have brought THE original one to Dearborn, Michigan, with him when he got his hands on it.  Ford had ties to this area, too, though, so maybe, just maybe that original machine is somewhere closer to my home than it is to Detroit.

I don't know, truly.  However, what I DO know is that I am staring at this wonderful slice of history while sipping Earl Grey tea and eating a BLT with avocado.  Very little in my world is cooler than this is right now.  After we finish eating and on our way back from the ladies' room, my friend and I let ourselves into the atrium and poke around.  We snap some pictures, then head on our way to the wine shop.

The cafe experience is hard to beat, though.  It's not often that a mill-lover like I am gets a chance to soak in the flavor of the local history.  Oh, yeah, there's a machine and some pictures in the Acadia Mill Building in Methuen where the teacher store is located.  Oh, and my doctor's office is in an old mill building that was once home to Pacific and

Wood Mills, makers of uniforms for American troops.  My daughter lived in the old Washington Mills.  We used to drive past the old Milford Cotton and Woolen Manufacturing Mill as kids, and, before that, we lived near the Saxonville Mills.  My great-aunt used to take us fabric shopping at the old Cranston Print Works Mill, too.

All right, all right.  I'm starting to see where my fascination comes from with these old mills.  Anyway, today is a slice of enjoyment: A slice of history with a side of lunch