It was 1943, during World War II; my Marine husband was stationed in the South Pacific. I needed to keep busy at home, so I got a job at the Cowan Mill on the second shift as a spinner. My sister, Betty, was a better spinner, but I had a great job, with precious people employed and helping each other, laughing and working together.

I would walk home after 11 p.m.; no fear, no concern of danger. Just feeling blessed.

Today, I rode across the bridge and glanced at the falls — no mill. With a moment of the yesterdays, all I could say was, Cowan Mill, thanks for the memories.

Ruth Hiltz, Lewiston