On a windy afternoon, spray from Great Falls whips through the alleyway beside the Libbey Mill. The brick-and-mortar hulk shudders under the wind’s assault, as metal shards dangling from the roof creak threateningly in the quiet.

Most of the mill’s windows are broken. Exposed wires drape the exterior walls in some places, near weather-beaten notices directing visitors to long-empty offices. High above the ground, perched on the mill’s uppermost floor, a lone pigeon stands watch, the only sign of life around its shabby grounds.

Meanwhile, the other side of the river is bustling. Great Falls Plaza shines brightly in the midday sun, its colorful signage – Hilton, TD Banknorth – glinting. On the Lewiston side, the most prominent words are less professional: graffiti, left to scar the old mill’s walls.

Redevelopment was once destined for the Libbey, but its fate has taken a turn: the city of Lewiston, this week, made the proclamation – again – that it’s to be demolished. “It’s not even feasible to mothball it,” the city’s code and planning chief, Gil Arseneault, told the newspaper Wednesday.

Sad news, of course, but expected. The Libbey Mill has been existing on borrowed time, ever since a 1999 fire left it badly damaged. Historians made a last-ditch effort to save the mill, after the city decided to raze it in 2000, in hopes it could be renovated or preserved.

Time and money have made such dreams unreasonable, however, and after 162 years, it’s time for the Libbey Mill to come down.

Its demolition carries far greater significance than merely clearing space for the ambitious Island Point project, a multimillion dollar hotel, restaurant and residential development, which, after a period of dormancy, has reawakened following some coincidental saber-rattling by city leaders.

As one of Lewiston’s oldest mills, the Libbey is a direct link to the city’s industrial past. It’s a symbol of Lewiston’s blue-collar heritage, the might of the Androscoggin River, and, tragically, the evolution of the economic landscape of Central Maine over the past few decades.

Today, it’s just a battered relic, worthwhile only to those who value what it represents.

Enough time has been devoted to mulling the mill’s rehabilitation. For nearly a decade, some in the community clung to the belief Lewiston could preserve its history, and realize its future, with the same building. Meanwhile, across the river, new development made Auburn’s riverfront a shining star.

Waiting any longer on the Libbey is unnecessary. Salvaging the history of Lewiston is possible without continuing to embrace far-off, expensive, ideals. The city is better off with the Libbey gone, than letting it journey further into neglect.

Just as the Libbey’s construction signaled the start of an era of prosperity in Lewiston, so could its demolition.