Kent’s silk mill was the topic of a recent Tap Talk at the North Water Brewing Co. As it turns out, the building has been just about everything but a silk mill.
Headlining the Tap Talk was Kent Council Member Heidi Shaffer Bish, who once owned a yoga studio in the building. She also researched the structure’s history and wrote an article published in a 2015 edition of AroundKent.
Shaffer Bish said her research indicated that previous local historians, including Loris Troyer, Roger Di Paolo and Karl H. Grismer, all tell essentially the same story, so she felt comfortable relying on their expertise.
According to them, and Shaffer Bish, the five-story structure on River Street, across from the Kent Free Library, got its start in 1837, when a group of investors from Cleveland, Boston, Hudson and Ravenna formed the Franklin Land Co. with the intent of transforming what was then Franklin Mills into Ohio’s largest manufacturing center. Their first focus? Silk.
For $75,000 ($2.45 million in today’s money) paid to Franklin Mills founder Zenas Kent, the investors gained control of the village’s river and a good deal of its land.
The Franklin Land Co. promptly transferred its interests, then worth between $372,000 to $375,000 ($12.17 million to $12.26 million in today’s money), to the Franklin Silk Co., and issued “script” townspeople could buy and use as local currency. Proceeds would fund the silk project, and it seemed everybody was on board.
By all accounts, Zenas Kent had paid $6,300 ($224,844 in today’s dollars) for his holdings, so he made out. Kent was a master land speculator, Shaffer Bish said.
Workers broke ground, and laid the foundation, excavated into solid rock, in 1837. Silkworms feed solely on mulberry leaves, so Akron banker Joy H. Pendleton imported hundreds of mulberry trees, and got local farmers to plant them and commit to raising the silkworms. Barber Clark started work on a large cocoonery.
Reality set in quickly. Seems the farmers were unprepared for the amount of labor and skill needed to tend silkworms, clean and card the cocoons and spin a high-quality product. (Carding untangles and cleans fibers to produce a consistent, even fiber that can be easily spun. It takes expertise, not to mention patience.)
When winter hit, the silkworms promptly died, taking the investors’ dreams with them. The mulberry trees survived and still dot many yards and farms throughout Kent and beyond.
Even though the Franklin Silk Co. failed, Zenas Kent ensured that every citizen who’d bought the now worthless script was paid back dollar for dollar. He gained ownership of the land and unfinished mill, which his sons Marvin and Charles at least managed to completely roof, by 1852.
The building is solid, with 13-foot ceilings, 3-foot by 8-foot windows, and 30-inch exterior walls that taper to a mere 16 inches on the top floors. The Ferry Co. provided over a million bricks from its Franklin Avenue brickyard.
A row of 12-inch diameter posts support 50-foot ceiling beams, and current property manager/landlord Bill Arthur (current owner Jim and Nancy Arthur’s son) said that when one of them failed, his family had to bring in a master craftsman from southern Ohio to fashion a replacement.
In his book “Rooted in Kent,” Di Paolo notes that the building project was especially formidable considering that Franklin Mills boasted a total population of about 1,500 in 1852. The structure originally included a row of gabled rooftop windows on both sides and a cupola, but those features were removed at some unknown point.
With the would-be factory completed, the younger Kents formed the Franklin Cotton Mills Co. with some eastern investors, hoping to make something of their investment. The investors soon backed out, leaving the Kents once again holding what appeared to be a doomed property. The mill, still nothing but a solid shell, sat empty for another two decades.
Then, success. In 1878, the Kents leased the building to James Turner, who owned an alpaca mill in Jamestown, New York. Kent’s citizens sweetened the deal by matching Marvin Kent’s $15,000 investment, and workers cut through solid rock to install a massive waterwheel. A mill race that started above Kent’s dam directed water to the wheel, providing needed power.
Turner’s mill started production in July 1879 with 52 looms and 100 employees: quite a successful enterprise in those days. By 1885, the mill had 254 looms, 1,800 spindles and 120 employees. Many local farmers turned to raising sheep and sold their wool to Turner’s mill.
Nothing lasts forever. When Marvin Kent wouldn’t agree to new lease terms or outright sale of the building, in 1889, Turner moved his mill operations to Cleveland and started the Cleveland Worsted Mills.
Kent’s building remained empty for another 15 years. The Kents finally sold out in 1923, and its new owners leased the building to the N.L. Gross Co., which used it as a dress factory. The Ferry Machine Co. also occupied it, as did Loeblein, a high-end furniture manufacturer. Loeblein left in 1956, and three years later the Fageol Co. (Remember those Twin Coach buses?) bought the building and used it until 1966 to make and store torque converters.
In 1966, John and Russell Mazzola bought the then-empty structure, hoping to convert it to student housing. They couldn’t get financing from local banks, who allegedly expressed concern about “malicious” property damage college students were apparently known for.
The Mazzolas sold to Bruce G. Copping’s, Howard G Hall’s and Burton R. Waldorf’s BBH Co., which leased the building to the Portage Paper Box Co. in 1967. Kent resident Richard Chestnutwood and his son Rick ran the business, which eventually became known as Portage Packaging. Machinery was located on the first two floors, and product — meaning boxes — occupied the top three floors.
The riverbank around the factory was littered with cardboard, Shaffer Bish said.
As happens in business, a chance comment led to the Silk Mill becoming what it is today. On April Fool’s Day 2002, while having lunch with Bill Arthur’s father, Kent real estate owner and developer Jim Arthur, Chestnutwood mentioned that he planned to shutter the box factory. Arthur and his wife Nancy were looking for a new project and bought the building for $215,000 the same year.
Renovations took three years, but by 2005, the former factory housed space for businesses on the first floor and 13 one- and two-bedroom apartments on the top three floors.
Shaffer Bish said no one is certain when the red-brick building was painted white, but white it became, and white it will likely stay, Bill Arthur said.
Pictures Shaffer Bish shared with Tap Talk attendees show artwork created from bits of industrial detritus the Arthurs found in and around the building. Massive beams still sport gigantic nails that wool skeins once hung from. There’s a spiral staircase that somehow remained fully functional and is used to this day.
The first tenant was Harriet Begala, a local activist and founder of Kent Environmental Council. Next, the Arthurs themselves moved into a fourth-floor penthouse suite, which included a private stairway to fifth-floor guest rooms. They still live there. Their children Wally and Jenny also had their own apartments in the building, though Jenny later moved into her parents’ former apartment in downtown Kent.
Occupying the first floor are QualityIP (a computer business), Erin Blackiston Hair (a salon) and One Love Yoga (a studio), all successful businesses.
Bill Arthur said vacancies are limited. He tells people who want to rent apartments that he’ll put them on the list, which usually has eight or nine people on it. Considering that about one apartment is usually available per year, the wait could be awhile, he said.
Tap Talks are monthly events sponsored by the Kent Historical Society. Each one consists of two 20-minute to half-hour presentations and a short refreshment break.
Correction: An earlier version of this article reported the 2002 sale price as $750,000. The property in fact sold for $215,000.
Wendy DiAlesandro is a former Record Publishing Co. reporter and contributing writer for The Portager.