There are hidden gems to be found in the archive center of the local historical society. Yesterday afternoon, I came across an essay written in 1958 named "The Madrid Bridge", written by Ruth Goodnow Keenan. She was 85 years old when it was composed.
After a few afternoons of bunny-trail research at the county courthouse and the archive library, we took a breather and paid a visit to the old stone home on the river. With the roar of the falls and a view of the stone arches as our background, we clambered down to the bank where the grist mill once towered.
While we perched ourselves on these curious rocks, I let my mind drift back in time to when the old grist mill was the life of the town.
I quote Mrs. Keenan:"On the northeast end of the bridge stood the gristmill. The sight of the huge stones, which, powered by water, moved round and round with a steady, majestic rhythm and ground out the flour, fascinated me. Now, teachers take their classes to visit industries. We used to wander wherever we like and, as far as I can remember, were welcome."
Thank you, Mrs. Keenan, for reminding me that the world is our classroom. These old mill stones provide a lovely place for reflecting upon that.
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