EDEN — The sound of rushing water lures the curious, who scramble through an old window in the ruins of the old Leaksville Cotton Mill to see the 30-foot waterfall behind it.
Years of such abuse, along with exposure to the elements, have worn away the already crumbling stone walls, preservationists say.
The walls once made up the foundation of the original 1839 mill and its replacement, built after an 1893 lightning strike destroyed the original mill.
The Eden Preservation Society wants to save the historic site once again. The group, which had requested part of the foundation be saved when the mill was demolished in 1992, recently hired Stoneville engineering firm Cirrus Construction to propose a restoration plan.
The report shows it would cost at least $12,500 to fix the windows alone. In several windows, large pieces of stone hang precariously over rusted metal or rotting wood supports. Danger signs tacked along the top don’t keep the curious out.
The group will try to get a grant to pay for the window repairs, said Marianne Aiken, a member and former president of the Eden Preservation Society. Donations, of course, are always welcome, she said.
It costs the Eden group $165 a month just to mow the site at 422 Church St.
The property was turned into a park and named after Gov. John Motley Morehead, who built the mill, one of the first in the state. It led the way for a series of mills to be built in that area, harnessing the Smith River and promoting the growth of what was to become Eden.
During the Civil War, the mill produced tent cloth for the Confederacy, local historian Bob Carter said.
“It’s certainly very important to the history of Eden,” said Carter, whose great-grandfather worked at the mill. “I hope they can work out a way to save it. It’s part of the heritage.”
Along with the crumbling wall and a historical marker, the park includes a small stage, built of lumber from another old mill, atop a former loading dock.
A combination of grass and moss covers the floor of the old mill’s basement. Nearby, water rides the Barnett Canal to plummet down the waterfall and into the Tackett, a small, slow-moving branch of the Smith River. It’s still used today to generate some electrical power, said Bud Stickels, another former president of the preservation group.
The property also includes the former superintendent’s house, now lost to the undergrowth. There had been a path, but it became difficult to maintain, Stickels said.
The building could be used some day, possibly as a museum “dedicated entirely to the mill here,” Stickels said.
“The hope, one day, is to have a bike or hiking path” at the park, he said.
Stickels, an engineer, built the wooden footbridge over the Tackett Branch, or “Tacky” as locals call it. The bridge leads to a path that follows the stream all the way to a frontal view of the waterfall.
Alas, visitors choose the more convenient shortcut through a window in the crumbling foundation, Aiken said.
Not only do they wear away at the historic site, they get shortchanged on their view of the waterfall, she said.
Aiken and Stickels belonged to the Eden Preservation Society when it fought to preserve part of the mill scheduled for demolition. In 1996, they helped the society buy the property — and the 10-foot-high foundation wall they had managed to save.
Today, they’re still members — Stickels’ wife, Phyllis, is president. And they’re still fighting to preserve Eden’s history.
Supporters gathered recently to raise money for the old mill foundation along the Tacky, where Eden’s mill story began, and where history now continues its slow crumble into oblivion.
Contact Jennifer Fernandez at 373-7064 or jennifer.fernandez@news-record.com
Years of such abuse, along with exposure to the elements, have worn away the already crumbling stone walls, preservationists say.
The walls once made up the foundation of the original 1839 mill and its replacement, built after an 1893 lightning strike destroyed the original mill.
The Eden Preservation Society wants to save the historic site once again. The group, which had requested part of the foundation be saved when the mill was demolished in 1992, recently hired Stoneville engineering firm Cirrus Construction to propose a restoration plan.
The report shows it would cost at least $12,500 to fix the windows alone. In several windows, large pieces of stone hang precariously over rusted metal or rotting wood supports. Danger signs tacked along the top don’t keep the curious out.
The group will try to get a grant to pay for the window repairs, said Marianne Aiken, a member and former president of the Eden Preservation Society. Donations, of course, are always welcome, she said.
It costs the Eden group $165 a month just to mow the site at 422 Church St.
The property was turned into a park and named after Gov. John Motley Morehead, who built the mill, one of the first in the state. It led the way for a series of mills to be built in that area, harnessing the Smith River and promoting the growth of what was to become Eden.
During the Civil War, the mill produced tent cloth for the Confederacy, local historian Bob Carter said.
“It’s certainly very important to the history of Eden,” said Carter, whose great-grandfather worked at the mill. “I hope they can work out a way to save it. It’s part of the heritage.”
Along with the crumbling wall and a historical marker, the park includes a small stage, built of lumber from another old mill, atop a former loading dock.
A combination of grass and moss covers the floor of the old mill’s basement. Nearby, water rides the Barnett Canal to plummet down the waterfall and into the Tackett, a small, slow-moving branch of the Smith River. It’s still used today to generate some electrical power, said Bud Stickels, another former president of the preservation group.
The property also includes the former superintendent’s house, now lost to the undergrowth. There had been a path, but it became difficult to maintain, Stickels said.
The building could be used some day, possibly as a museum “dedicated entirely to the mill here,” Stickels said.
“The hope, one day, is to have a bike or hiking path” at the park, he said.
Stickels, an engineer, built the wooden footbridge over the Tackett Branch, or “Tacky” as locals call it. The bridge leads to a path that follows the stream all the way to a frontal view of the waterfall.
Alas, visitors choose the more convenient shortcut through a window in the crumbling foundation, Aiken said.
Not only do they wear away at the historic site, they get shortchanged on their view of the waterfall, she said.
Aiken and Stickels belonged to the Eden Preservation Society when it fought to preserve part of the mill scheduled for demolition. In 1996, they helped the society buy the property — and the 10-foot-high foundation wall they had managed to save.
Today, they’re still members — Stickels’ wife, Phyllis, is president. And they’re still fighting to preserve Eden’s history.
Supporters gathered recently to raise money for the old mill foundation along the Tacky, where Eden’s mill story began, and where history now continues its slow crumble into oblivion.
Contact Jennifer Fernandez at 373-7064 or jennifer.fernandez@news-record.com