The Cottonwood Paper Mill (also known as Granite Paper Mill) is an abandoned stone structure located at the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon in Cottonwood Heights, Utah. It was built in 1883 by the Deseret News under the direction of Henry Grow. Workers used paper making equipment brought in from the old Sugar House Paper Mill to grind logs from nearby canyons into pulp. Rags gathered from old clothes were also used to produce the pulp, which was then placed into molds and dried. During its operation, the mill could yield up to 5 tons of paper per day.
The mill provided jobs and paper for nearly ten years. But the completion of the railroad had made paper significantly cheaper to obtain. In 1892, the Cottonwood Paper Mill was sold to Granite Paper Mills Company. On April 1, 1893, a fire broke out inside. Between its large stockpile of paper and the fact that many who heard the alarm thought it to be an April Fool's joke, the mill was destroyed, leaving only a stone skeleton.
The structure was partially rebuilt in 1927 for use as an open-air dance hall, known as the Old Mill Club, and remained so until the 1940s. It was also used in the 1970s and 1980s as a haunted house and a craft boutique. It was declared a historic site by the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers in 1966, and was condemned by the city of Cottonwood Heights in 2005.
The Cottonwood Paper Mill is also known as Granite Paper Mill, Deseret Paper Mill, Old Mill (a title shared by several newer buildings in the vicinity) and Haunted Old Mill.
Famous quotes containing the words mill, cottonwood and/or paper:
“This is a red wine glass. Can I get my water in a water glass, please?”
—Michael Tolkin, U.S. screenwriter, and Robert Altman. Griffin Mill (Tim Robbins)
“Three centuries of piety
Grown bare as a cottonwood tree ...”
—Allen Tate (18991979)
“My vocabulary dwells deep in my mind and needs paper to wriggle out into the physical zone. Spontaneous eloquence seems to me a miracle. I have rewrittenoften several timesevery word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (18991977)