Across the road, there are noisy afternoon squads of athletes practicing on the high school field and track. But here on the very edge of town, you can hear the wind blowing through the big open sheds and work buildings of what used to be the Sedro-Woolley Lumber Co. mill. On the surface, this old mill is a ghost town. No big log trucks or rail cars coming in or out. Huge new steel band saw blades are rusting in slatted wood delivery crates.
Birds fly casually in and out of the work sheds that used to hum with activity.
In the bowels of one building, the new computerized Ukiah edger saw complex is still lit up and the console lights in the control booth above the cutting tables are blinking sequentially, as though HAL the computer is guiding all of this through deep space. Richard Bobb maintains a lonely vigil as caretaker of the Sedro-Woolley Lumber Co. mill, which silently awaits new owners. But there is no sleeping crew programmed to wake from this economic coma. And a woman working in the office weekdays. I worked here almost 10 years . . .