Restoring History: Bringing the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill Back to Life

In a quiet clearing beside a winding creek, the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill stood still, weathered by time and nearly forgotten by the modern world. Once a hub of daily life and essential labor, the old mill had slipped into silence, its waterwheel no longer turning, its timber bones groaning beneath years of neglect. What had been a proud symbol of rural progress in the early 1900s became little more than a memory. But that was not the end of its story.

Today, thanks to a dedicated group of individuals fueled by purpose and respect for the past, the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill is alive again. Its return to form is not just a victory of preservation—it’s a reminder that history is not lost unless we let it go.

A Landmark with Two Names and One Story

The mill’s name has changed hands over time, known to some as the Sim Corder Mill and to others as the Harrison Mill. Both names carry deep roots in the land and the families that shaped the community. Simon “Sim” Corder, a skilled craftsman and early builder, was the original mind behind the mill’s construction in the early 20th century. Designed with care and built with local materials, the mill stood as a testament to self-sufficiency and rural ingenuity.

Years later, the property passed to the Harrison family, who maintained and operated the mill for several generations. They modernized some equipment and expanded its reach while preserving its function and integrity. Locals continued to bring in grain and gather around the waterwheel, which remained the building’s centerpiece and energy source.

The dual name reflects the intertwined legacies of two families, both of whom treated the mill not only as a tool for work but also as a place of pride and service. Long after the last sack of flour was ground, the mill continued to occupy a special place in the hearts of descendants and neighbors alike.

Decades of Silence

As the decades passed, so did the need for small, water-powered mills. Industrialization swept through the region, bringing larger processing plants and faster transportation. Like so many rural landmarks, the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill was gradually retired. The doors were shut, the water diverted, and the wheel fell still. Moss grew thick along the foundation, and vines crawled through the cracks.

By the 1980s, the mill was barely mentioned. The families had moved away or passed on, and newer generations had only seen the building in old photos or faded memories. It seemed inevitable that the mill would collapse quietly, another casualty of progress.

But one visit changed everything. In the early 2000s, a distant descendant of both families—Anna Harrison Corder—made a trip back to the site while tracing her family history. Standing before the deteriorating structure, she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility. She saw beyond the decay and imagined what it could be once more.

A Mission Begins

Anna returned home, but she couldn’t shake the image of the mill in its current state. The stories her grandfather told her came rushing back: about the wheel turning at dawn, the sound of the grain chute echoing through the wooden frame, and the people who came together to work, trade, and connect. She knew then that restoring the mill wasn’t just about rebuilding a structure—it was about reviving a spirit.

She began reaching out to relatives, local historians, and preservation experts. While some were skeptical, many were intrigued. Eventually, a small team formed—a mixture of family members, volunteers, carpenters, and local supporters who believed in the vision. They raised money through community events, online campaigns, and generous donations from people who had long ties to the area.

Restoration officially began in 2005. The team started by carefully documenting what remained: the wheel, the stone foundation, the main frame, and even some of the original tools left behind. Every part was studied, preserved if possible, or recreated using traditional methods.

The waterwheel was perhaps the most challenging. It had splintered and warped, and its iron fittings were rusted and brittle. Still, local millwrights stepped in, drawing on knowledge passed down through generations. Piece by piece, the wheel was rebuilt, designed to turn once again with the creek’s flow.

A New Chapter for an Old Mill

By the time restoration was complete, the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill had been transformed. Its original character remained intact—the same timbers, the same stone walls, the same sounds of water moving wood—but it now had a new purpose.

More than anything, the mill has once again become a place of community. Where families once gathered to grind corn, now they gather to celebrate heritage and teach future generations about resilience and resourcefulness.

Preserving What Matters

The restoration of the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill is not just a tribute to a building, but a declaration of values. It speaks to the importance of honoring where we come from and remembering the labor and love that shaped the spaces we often take for granted.

Anna and her team didn’t just bring a structure back—they brought a legacy back into the light. The dual name on the entrance is more than historical accuracy; it’s a symbol of collaboration, of families united by effort and memory.

As the waterwheel turns again, driven by the same creek that powered it over a century ago, it reminds all who visit that history doesn’t disappear—it waits to be rediscovered.

Thanks to the work of those who believed in its story, the Sim Corder / Harrison Mill is no longer a forgotten relic. It is living history, restored with care and renewed with love, ready to inspire for another hundred years.