Strathmore Paper Mill No.1
The July sun was merciless, turning the asphalt of Woronoco Road into something you could practically fry eggs on. J and I pressed forward anyway, drawn toward the hulking mill building that had been cleaved in two by the road itself, a giant of industry now straddling the pavement like some forgotten monument to another era.
We started with the right side of the complex, the structure known as Strathmore Paper Mill No. 1. The No Trespassing signs were everywhere, faded by weather and time, but we slipped inside regardless. Call it curiosity. Call it something deeper. There's a pull these old places have on certain people, a whisper from the walls that promises stories worth hearing.
Our plan that day was ambitious: explore the entire Strathmore Mill Complex, all three buildings that once hummed with the machinery of American manufacturing. Reality, as it often does, had other ideas. We managed to navigate through Mill No. 2 and No. 1, but the warehouse remained stubbornly out of reach. A catwalk pedestrian bridge hung three stories above the public road, connecting the structures like a skeletal artery, but access was blocked. The building looked close enough to touch yet remained impossibly distant.
Further down the road, past Bridge Street, sits the Hydro Electric Station. Built in 1904, this red brick structure perches on the west bank of the Westfield River, positioned slightly above the waterline but well below the village that overlooks it. The architecture is striking in its organization, following a basilica form with a tall front gable flanked by two lower flat-roofed sections on either side.
The engineering beneath the building tells its own story. High, battered concrete foundations support the structure, pierced by an arch that allows river water to flow through. In its working days, water rushed from above the dam through an eleven-foot penstock, spinning the turbines that generated electricity for the surrounding area.
The station has survived its share of hardship. The great flood of 1938 caused extensive damage, but workers rebuilt it the following year. That kind of resilience was common back then. You fixed what was broken and carried on.
The current chapter of Strathmore's story belongs to Donald Voudren Sr. of Huntington, who purchased the mill property in 2012 for $250,000. The 2.5-acre parcel sits at 261-268 Woronoco Road, squeezed between the constant traffic of Route 20 and the flowing waters of the Westfield River. The main attraction was the 31,000-square-foot mill building, its bones dating back to 1895.
Voudren arrived with visions of transformation. The plan was straightforward enough on paper: demolish the aging industrial structures and replace them with a condominium development. New construction rising from old foundations. A familiar story in towns like Russell, where the ghosts of manufacturing often make way for residential dreams.
But those plans began unraveling spectacularly.
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| The warehouse (stockhouse) building. I should have tried behind the building for entry. |
In July 2022, flames tore through a portion of Mill No. 1. The Russell Fire Department investigated, and their findings were damning. According to their report, Voudren or workers under his direction had used an oxy-acetylene torch, igniting combustible materials that consumed the warehouse section. What had survived over a century of use and decades of abandonment was partially destroyed in a matter of hours.
The troubles didn't end there.
On November 11, 2024, a section of Mill No. 1 gave way entirely. The collapse injured three workers who had been permitted on the property to remove light pieces of wood. What they were actually doing, investigators discovered, was something far more substantial. The workers had been pulling large structural framing timbers from the building, including old beams of cherry and other valuable hardwoods. These reclaimed materials are highly sought after by lumber mills and dealers who specialize in recycled building materials.
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| Interior of Strathmore Paper Mill No. 1. You can see the heavy structural timbers above. |
The gap between what was permitted and what actually occurred raises uncomfortable questions about oversight, greed, and the fate of historic structures caught between preservation and profit.
Standing in the shadow of Strathmore on that sweltering summer afternoon, J and I couldn't have predicted what would follow our visit. The mill that had weathered floods and economic collapse, that had outlasted the industry it served, now faces a more uncertain enemy: the slow dismemberment that comes when no one can quite agree what an old building is worth.
Some see valuable real estate. Others see irreplaceable history. A few, apparently, see nothing but the price of reclaimed hardwood.
The walls still stand, at least most of them. But for how much longer, nobody seems willing to say.
The Industrial Revolution didn't arrive in Russell with fanfare or ceremony. It came in 1840, when a New York businessman named Cyrus Field partnered with Elijah Smith to construct a mill along the banks of the Westfield River. They built on the bones of a smaller grist mill that had served the community for years, and soon the property was being advertised as a superb location for cotton manufacturing.
Cotton never quite took hold. Instead, the building changed hands in 1858, passing to two men named Chapin and Gould who recognized a different opportunity entirely. They converted the operation into a paper mill, setting in motion an industry that would define Russell for more than a century.
The real transformation came on July 12, 1872. Charles A. Jessup and George L. Laflin, both established paper manufacturers from nearby Westfield, pooled together $150,000 to construct something ambitious in the village of Salmon Falls. Their vision included an 18-foot-high granite dam, a fully operational paper mill, and multifamily tenements to house the workers who would run it all.
This became the second paper mill on the Westfield River in Russell, and the local economy responded accordingly. By 1880, the two mills together employed 241 people. For a small New England village, this was transformative. Families had steady work. The community had purpose.
The Jessup and Laflin Company, as it was known, drew attention from investors with deeper pockets. Sometime in the 1880s, the Vernon Brothers acquired the entire 1000-acre property, including the dam, the water rights, and the mill itself. They wasted no time expanding operations, enlarging the boiler room to increase production capacity.
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| Ground floor of Paper Mill No. 1. |
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| The stately front door entrance. |
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| Weeds took over the former truck dock. |
Everything changed again in 1911 when Horace A. Moses entered the picture. A West Springfield industrialist with an eye for opportunity, Moses purchased the business and began reshaping it into something grander. The company had already been reorganized as the Woronoco Paper Company on March 13, 1897. Under Moses, it merged with Mittineague Paper Company to form what would become known as the Strathmore Paper Company.
Moses proved to be more than just a businessman chasing profits. He understood that a company was only as strong as the people running the machinery. He built housing for his workers and established a community center in the village, creating a sense of belonging that extended well beyond the factory floor. In 1913, he constructed Woronoco Mill No. 2 on the river's east bank, expanding the complex that would operate for decades to come.
The entire mill complex, built between 1873 and 1913, represented nearly half a century of continuous industrial investment in one small corner of Massachusetts.
What exactly rolled off the production lines at Strathmore? Ledger paper. It might not sound glamorous, but the quality spoke for itself. The mill earned a high reputation among paper users and dealers nationwide, becoming synonymous with reliability and craftsmanship. When businesses needed paper they could trust, they turned to Strathmore.
As the decades passed, ownership continued to evolve. The Strathmore Paper Company eventually came under the umbrella of Mohawk Paper, itself connected to International Paper. The product line shifted as well, moving toward artist paper products that found devoted customers among painters, printmakers, and designers who valued the distinctive feel and performance of Strathmore sheets.
Nothing lasts forever, especially in American manufacturing. Mill No. 1 ceased operations in 1993, its machinery falling silent after more than a century of production. Mill No. 2 held on a few years longer, finally shuttering in 1999.
The closure marked the end of an era that had begun when Cyrus Field first saw potential in a modest grist mill on the Westfield River. Generations of workers had passed through those doors. Families had been raised on the wages earned inside those walls. The paper produced there had filled ledgers and supported artists across the country.
Source(s):
1. Thomas, K. (2022, April 5). Former Strathmore Paper Mill property projected to be residential, mixed-use area. WWLP.com
2. Canton, D. (2020, June 20). Multiple MA Departments Battle Vacant Mill Fire. Firehouse.
3. Kinney, J. (2022, April 10). ‘Woronoco City’: Owners of vacant Strathmore mills in Russell have big plans for housing, commercial development. Mass Live.
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