Category: economy

Go North

I went up to Berlin today to gather some voices for this story I’m putting together for NHPR on the reaction to the sale of the Cascade mill. What a great day. I ran into person after person I knew, and I probably spent more time chatting with friends and catching up than I did pushing my microphone in people’s faces. Of course I asked everyone I knew about what their reaction to the mill sale was, but only some of them did I lure on tape.

And I was reminded of it once again—what a tight-knit community the North Country is. I went to the WREN farmers market, where people I knew were organizing, selling, performing, shopping and visiting. It was like all of the Androscoggin Valley was coming out to visit.

My voice got hoarse from all the chatting, but the discussion about the mill was also riveting. I’ve been away for a bit, and to swoop in now for NHPR is less than ideal, but luckily I’ve got enough people there that I know who are willing to talk to me. The locals are optimistic but scared. They are hopeful the company that bought the facility will make an honest go of finding a partner and making paper, but they don’t know if it’s going to happen.

The average age of the Cascade mill worker is 58, I was told, and there isn’t much else out there for them. They have to be hopeful. But it sounds like the company has also been straightforward with the workers. If they can’t make it the business run, they’ll tear the mill down and cut their losses.

When that’s all you’ve known, what choice do you have but to harbor a bit of fear? It’s understandable, but it’s also good to see the Androscoggin Valley soldiering on. They’ve had a rough decade, but they haven’t lost their optimism. There were more smiles today than looks of trepidation, even though the timeline for those 237 jobs to come back isn’t clear. That’s a testament to the resolve of the community, and the individual workers who make it up.

More To Do

Things don’t ever slow down, it seems. I am heading up north tomorrow to see what the reaction to the sale of the mill is among locals for NHPR. And then on Sunday I’m going to Manchester to talk to two Sudanese men about the referendum there.
If I didn’t like my new job so much I’d swear there was enough freelance work to launch a career on my own. But today I got to write up the editorial panel interview with the hospital president, another awesome task.
And that’s when it hits: I’m a wonk. I can talk policy, and I like it. Hopefully I can explain the complexities to readers who have less interest in being immersed in such subtleties, but for me the opportunities to engage in these discussions are priceless.
So while there is a ton going on, I’m enjoying all of it. I just hope successful sale of the Cascade facility has more to do with paper production than demolition in the end.

More NHPR

Well, that was encouraging.

After feeling like I was juggling a bit more than I could handle, today I dropped and came out fine.

In the crazy week that was I thought the Lumberjack Festival was today. So I went up there to take pictures as my last act for the paper, and also to interview people for my NHPR story on the Fraser mill.

Well, the festival is tomorrow. And I couldn’t just wait around: my editor needed the piece tonight because he was heading out of town.

So I hit up Cascade Flats, the borough where the mill sits, to talk to residents about what their reactions were to the closing of the mill.

What I got was gold. It didn’t have the kitschy sound the Lumberjack Festival would have, but it was authentic. Two of the people I talked to worked at the mill, and both had been laid off. For one it was recent, 30 months ago, and for the other it was 30 years ago.

Those two voices mixed with those of business owners, selectmen, city councilors and the governor to weave a great story about what people fear will come. It isn’t Shakespeare, but it is by far the best radio piece I’ve done. It’s nice when you feel like you trip, and you wind up doing a somersault and landing on your feet.

I think it’ll be on Monday morning, but I’ll put up more information as I know.

Short weekend though—I’ve still got two videos to finish, as well as my last stories for the Berlin Reporter. That’s OK, after such a success it’ll be a quick ride home.

Crazy

When things get busy, they get crazy.

It’s my last official day at the Reporter (I’ve still got stories to write, but those I’ll finish over the weekend), and I’m running around like mad. When something like this mill story happens it’s impossible to get too deep. New Hampshire Governor John Lynch was there today to talk to the workers, to reassure them the state was doing what it could.

I was trying to take notes, pictures, audio and video. What a way to roll.

The daily deadline (like the one I had for NHPR today) will be a new experience for me, something I’m anxious to tackle. I already received a tip for a story in my new coverage area, and I haven’t even started yet. And I’ve got freelance projects for several clients, all of which are about to come due.

So I’m sitting at WMCC with a video camera, minidisc recorder, point and shoot and laptop, trying to make sure I cover every one of my bases. It’s been an exciting day, and it’s still not over. I’ve got another interview in a couple hours. It’s already 5 p.m. on Friday night.

But that’s the way it goes, and I wouldn’t change anything. I am hoping over time I’ll get better at this, so juggling the different aspects doesn’t create a disaster. I didn’t get as much audio as I would have liked from Gov. Lynch because I didn’t have the right microphone, and when I did get close enough to him to record my minidisc went dead. I was able to fix it, but by the time I did he was done speaking. Luckily I got an interview afterward, but it wasn’t the gems I lost from earlier. It seems like I’m juggling too many balls right now, but with practice it’ll get better (I hope).

Regardless, even more interesting than Gov. Lynch’s statements were the comments I got from workers. That’s what really matters. They are who are really going to be hit. It is their story that needs to be told. And I got that. I’ve got an NHPR story lined up for next week about them, the ones who really deserve to be heard. That’s the story I don’t want to drop, no matter how crazy it gets.

Political Impact

Gov. John Lynch will be in Gorham today to speak to workers about the mill shutdown. I’ll be there for the Reporter, but I’m also going to grab some tape of it for NHPR, and maybe even shoot some video of it for myself. I am interested to hear what it is he can do. The reaction to the Reporter’s facebook page report that he was coming up was exactly that: what is he going to do about it? That’s a fair question, because at this point it seems far-fetched that something is going to come through. But we’ll see.

I’m also scheduled to speak to a Gorham selectman and Berlin’s mayor, and I’ll take the opportunity to talk to as many mill workers as possible. It’s going to be a busy day, but at least it’s raining.

What’s Next for Cascade

Funny how things work. The week after I give my notice at the Reporter the biggest story since I’ve been in Berlin breaks, and I’m watching it as I sail away.

The deal to sell the Cascade mill fell through, according to Fraser, meaning 237 employees will almost certainly be laid off in the coming weeks. The paper mill isn’t the largest employer in the city, but many of these people have no other skills. If this mill stays closed it could add significant hardship to the region.

I was on NHPR today talking about it, giving some of the details about the events leading up to the closure. I’ve been trying to prepare for this possibility all week, including interviewing a historian on the paper industry just today to get a little more background. Tomorrow I may be on the Exchange on NHPR again talking about the closure.

It’s a little strange to be answering questions as I walk away from my full time job up there, but again I won’t be leaving the area. This event is important not to let go, not to ignore, because it is both a huge shift for Berlin/Gorham and the whole Androscoggin Valley and indicative of the struggles of industrial communities around the country. I’m going to be squeezing more into less time, but my telling the story of the North Country is far from over.

The Length of the Story

I have a hard time expressing everything I see, everything I hear, everything I think is of value. It is almost a physical impossibility to get it all across.

Think about it: my job is to go around and talk to people all week, to find out what is going on in Berlin, and to put it down on paper. How many conversations do I have? And how many come to nothing? Lots, that’s the answer for both.

There is so much there. It is unlike anywhere else I’ve been. There is a sense I get every time I drive north on Route 16 that I’m traveling back in time to an era when neighborhoods where connected. It’s an entirely unfair feeling, since lots of people in Berlin are transient or recent emigres, but it’s what I feel nonetheless.

And every random five minute conversation tells me something more about the city. Every time I stop by the police station is see a small town going through growing pains, and I don’t know how to get that across.

Growing pains—a funny way to refer to it in a city that has lost more than half its population. But that’s what it is. Prior to the pulp mill closing, people didn’t move to Berlin. It was largely left alone to flourish, and only the resilient Berliners had what it took to live beneath the stacks.

But today, with the smell gone and the jobs gone with it, there are lots of reasons to move there. Most of them wind up in people’s pocket at the end of the month, saved from what they would have had to pay in a rental unit downstate.

Berlin is attracting an influx from away, and it isn’t the kind every resident wants. But what kind is the kind every resident wants?

I’ve heard people talk about how the smell from the mill used to be called “tourist repellent.” I grew up on the coast of Maine, so I can understand that sentiment, but I wonder how that impacts today’s environment. I have heard people express their support for ATVers visiting the area, but what happens when a different style of tourist discovers the city?

Berlin is blue-collar, and that’s largely how it wants to stay. The people flocking there now, mostly to take up residence in the slums, are not welcomed by residents. What about the other end of the spectrum? I know that isn’t currently Berlin’s problem, but I do wonder how people would like BMWs, Audis and Volvos clogging the city streets instead of ATVs and lifted four-by-fours.

Those are the things I can’t get across. Those are the feelings, the details, that tell me so much about Berlin, that make it dear to me. It is working class, maybe to the point there is too much class struggle in residents’ identities. But how does that impact them in the 21st century, when the Great North Woods no longer shelter them and no longer provide the economic engine they once did?

I am looking for a way to tell that story. That’s the one that needs to get out.

Raining

Both figuratively and literally.

If bad things come in threes, how many good things come at once?

I’m working on a NHPR project, a Charitable Fund project, a New Hampshire Grand project and my Reporter work. Several other interesting offers have come up, and USF–Iraq got back to me to explain what I need to do to make the Iraq trip happen. It’s so much I’ve barely got time to write.

But the NHPR piece, which is about the fate of the Cascade mill, makes me take pause. The operation is in limbo, and the solution needs to come quick for the 237 jobs to remain. What will that mean for this area? It means the federal prison needs to hurry up and open.

It’s interesting that the debate is how to keep this facility open. The workers would be in trouble if the jobs go away, but the long term viability of paper-making in the United States is by no means given, even with the proposed improvements. It again comes back to the large scale retooling of the workforce.

But what does that mean for the people left behind? Nothing good, as far as I can tell. For them it’s raining too, but in an entirely different way.

Adventure Time

Soon I’ll be rock climbing for Coös County. And biking. And canoeing, and hiking and more.

I’ve signed on to shoot photos and video for the New Hampshire Grand Initiative, to capture the adventure opportunities of Coös County for them to put on their Facebook page and elsewhere. They want to showcase the woods, the lakes, the rivers, the mountains and the adventure, so I’m going to head out there three days a month to capture it. It is less of an effort than the county needs, but it’s a start.

For the first two months I’ve planned the following:

  • Rock climb Mount Forist
  • Overnight at Grey Knob
  • Trail running in the Kilkenney Range
  • Cycling from Milan to Errol
  • Canoeing on Umbagog
  • Rock climbing or ice climbing in Huntington Ravine (depending on conditions)

Other thoughts for later this winter:

  • Cross country skiing Milan Hill State Park
  • Winter camping in Mahoosuc Notch
  • Mixed climbing in Shelburne
  • Ice climbing Dixville Notch
  • Whitewater rafting
  • Skiing at the Balsams
  • Bicycle touring around the county
  • Skiing on Mount Hale (secret backcountry powder stash…ssshhh, it’s in Coös County)

I don’t know the western part of the county nearly as well, so I’m open to suggestions. What’s a good adventure, something you’d like to see me toss myself into?

It’ll be fun and a great photo/video/multimedia project: trying to document all the outdoor adventure opportunities Coös County has to offer. Sometimes my work really isn’t bad.

Back to the Struggle

I got to interview an interesting man last week, an artist from Berlin who made his way back from a stroke to paint once again. He had to learn to use his left hand instead of his right, and his technique now involves a computer, but it is a fantastic story. (If you’re interested, his name is Daniel Roberge, and his show opens tomorrow at St. Kieran Arts Center.) He described getting back to creating art after being told he would struggle to ever sit up again on his own as “getting back into the struggle.” What elegant language.

And the struggle is back in Berlin, full swing. On Tuesday, before an empty chamber, save Bobby Haggart, Jon Edwards got up to speak during the public comments phase of the city council meeting. He talked about what he’d seen at the Laidlaw hearings in Concord, where he said numerous companies already invested in biomass raised concerns about the Laidlaw project.

He got about four minutes, and then Mayor Paul Grenier cut him off. Mayor Grenier smashed the gavel into the block, and he told Mr. Edwards not to lecture the council. Councilor David Poulin said he was interested in what Mr. Edwards had to say, and Mr. Edwards continued.

Maybe two minutes later Mayor Grenier was again pounding the gavel, loud enough to drown out everything else. He asked the city manager to call the police and to have Mr. Edwards thrown out. Mr. Edwards left a moment later.

What a scene. What a debate. I have come back, I feel, to the struggle.