Abandoned and crumbling, the Cottonwood Paper Mill stands as a silent testament to Salt Lake City’s industrial past. The Deseret News, seeking a reliable paper source, built this granite giant in 1883 under the watchful eye of Henry Grow. Can you imagine the hustle and bustle as workers, using equipment salvaged from the old Sugar House Paper Mill, transformed logs from nearby canyons into pulp? Rags, gathered from worn-out clothes, also found new life as paper ingredients. This mill, in its heyday, churned out an impressive five tons of paper daily, fueling the city’s growing need for information. The Cottonwood Paper Mill thrived for nearly ten years. But progress, as it often does, brought change. The arrival of the railroad made paper from outside sources more affordable. In 1892, the mill changed hands, becoming the property of the Granite Paper Mills Company. Then, on April Fool’s Day, 1893, disaster struck. A fire erupted amidst the mill’s stockpile of paper. The alarm sounded, but many dismissed it as a prank. The delay proved fatal. The Cottonwood Paper Mill was ravaged, leaving behind a hollow stone shell. The mill’s story didn’t end there. In 1927, it was resurrected as an open-air dance hall, the Old Mill Club, echoing with music and laughter until the 1940s. It later served as a haunted house and even a craft boutique. The Daughters of the Utah Pioneers recognized its historical significance in 1966. Sadly, the city of Cottonwood Heights condemned the structure in 2005. Today, the Cottonwood Paper Mill stands as a haunting reminder of a bygone era, its crumbling walls whispering tales of industry, fire, and rebirth.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to