CANTON, N.C. — A whistle-like sound has rippled throughout the town of Canton twice a day for as long as community members can remember. 

The paper mill, which produces the sound, is a staple in Canton. But the mill is preparing to close. 

“It’s an elongated whistle that you just know the time. You know that it’s at 12 [p.m.] and 3:30 [p.m.],” Taylor Clark said. “I live 10 minutes from here on the Buncombe County side, but we can hear it at my house.”

Clark grew up hearing the sound, as it became part of her daily routine and a reminder of where her father and grandfather spent years of hard work, at the paper mill.

Steam from the mill is part of what makes Canton feel like home. As production begins winding down, Clark remembers the moment that changed her family. 

“I’ll pass Merrimon Avenue and forever remember that as where I found out my dad lost his job,” Clark said.

He was approaching his 20th anniversary at the mill, where he was planning to retire.

“He had such a great job with great benefits,” Clark said. “All of the things you work for 20 years to attain. Now, he’s having to start from the bottom. Everybody does.”

The mill contributed to moments in her childhood that she might not have otherwise had. 

“When I was younger, my dad worked at a gas station. So he wasn’t home very much. He changed jobs at the paper mill so it afforded him the opportunity to watch my brother and I grow up.”

In her work life, Clark saw the mill's impact on Canton's youth. She is a basketball coach at a local school and previously worked as a teacher.

“The football jerseys at the high school literally say 'mill town' on the front because this town was founded around the paper mill,” Clark said. It’s been something that’s always been there.”

The "whistle" is no exception. “It blows before home football games,” Clark said. “With the flood that came through, I’m super sad that the seniors this year are not gonna get to hear the whistle blow for their last football game, considering that they haven’t gotten to play on the field in two years.” 

Clark hears it every day at the soap company she works at, with a clear view of the mill.

“People that are on Park Street, the street that’s right here by the mill, tomorrow the 12 o’clock whistle is gonna be emotional,” Clark said. She’s not looking forward to it.

“You know that the trains have stopped running, and that it’s real,” Clark said. 

Clark says the support has been unbelievable, which shows her that the community will be fine, but the healing process will take a while.