Shift workers at the mill, 1981. Photograph courtesy Chuck Whitt
On November 30, 1977, I walked into the paper mill known to me only as the source of the “Aroma of Tacoma.” The mill, operated by the St. Regis Paper Company of New York, intimidated the hell out of me, puffing huge columns of white smoke from its many stacks, emitting that sulfurous smell. But, with a starting wage of $6.63 per hour, more than tripling the pay at the job I was leaving, going to work there was not all that difficult of a choice.
Neither was staying for what would become a 45-year career that took me
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