For years, Con Hegarty Sr. walked by the 250-foot smokestacks on his way to work at the Wood Mill at 290 Merrimack St.
Yesterday, his son, Con Hegarty Jr. of North Andover, witnessed the implosion of the smokestacks that fueled his late father's career. Hegarty Sr., a Wood Mill foreman, died in 1992 at age 94.
"He would be amazed," said Hegarty Jr., who brought granddaughter Brigid Gaffney, 31âÑ2, to witness the 10 a.m. implosion yesterday.
"It's a piece of history that's unique. I wanted her to see it," Hegarty said.
Scores poured into Sal's Riverwalk and streets around the site to watch the destruction of the 3,300-ton smokestacks yesterday. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder with construction workers, demolition experts, politicians and news reporters, clutching digital, video and cell phone cameras.
After a quick countdown, shouts of "Fire in the hole!" and a loud boom, the smokestacks collapsed into a massive ball of the dust, instantly changing the former mill city's trademark skyline.
Brothers and entrepreneurs Sal and Michael Lupoli smiled and immediately hugged one another.
Meanwhile, John MacDonald, Lupoli's vice president of strategy, started high-fiving folks in the front row of the viewing area.
Removal of the smokestacks paves the way for Sal Lupoli's $50 million transformation of former mill buildings into a parking garage, office complex, public park and retail strip mall. The smokestacks destroyed yesterday were deemed structurally unsound. But another set of stacks, closer to I-495, is staying put, remaining a symbol of the bustling textile city Lawrence once was.
"This is all part of the rebirth of the city of Lawrence," Sal Lupoli said. "Today, I have a great sense of pride."
While agreeing the implosion was a necessary step forward, many regarded the moment as bittersweet.
Sharlene Hoegen and Barbara Gingras grew up in Lawrence, both products of families lured to the Immigrant City by promises of work in thriving manufacturing mills.
Yesterday morning, Hoegen and Gingras were among the first to arrive in Sal's parking lot.
"My grandparents worked here. They'd walk to work and they'd walk home," said Hoegen, who now lives in Derry, N.H.
"We love Lawrence and it will always be home to us," Hoegen said. Looking towards the smokestacks she said, "I can almost feel all those souls watching us."
Yesterday was doubly significant for Gingras, who viewed the implosion as she celebrated her 54th birthday.
"To see all this go down, it's sad but exciting," said Gingras of Salem, N.H.
Dan Clark, a resident in the Tower Hill section of Lawrence, let his 10-year-old son Jacob, a fifth-grader, be a bit late for school yesterday. Instead, father and son worked on a "special assignment" witnessing the implosion.
"It's a once in a lifetime event," said Clark of Jasper Street. "Rather than watch it on TV tonight, we came here. It's history and a huge part of our city's development."
Pat Teichman of the Community Day Charter Public School couldn't agree more.
Teichman, aided by numerous teachers and chaperones, brought 98 kids in kindergarten through second grade to Sal's yesterday. The kids have been reading about the implosion in the newspaper. What better way to teach them about the history of Lawrence than to let them witness it? Teichman said.
"These kids will remember this when they get to be our age and they'll be telling their friends and children about it," she said.
In a more practical sense, the implosion also presented a lesson in timing for the children. They've been talking about predicting what will happen in various stories and situations. Yesterday, before the stacks came down, they talked about what they might see, she said.
The descendant of a mill worker, Mary Wright of Lawrence said the implosion easily pulled her away from her original plan to do errands and grocery shopping.
"I'm so close. I didn't just want to watch it on TV," said Wright, whose grandmother Rose Dryden was a city mill worker for 35 years.
In those days, folks started working in the mills at 14 or 15 years old, she noted.
"This was so much a part of their lives. I'm shocked to think it's coming to an end," Wright said.
Like so many others, Francisco Urena, the Lawrence veterans agent, snapped many before and after photos of the smokestacks. When it was all over, Urena pointed to smokestacks left standing and the rubble left by those just destroyed.
Both great reminders, Urena said, of where "the city has been and where it's going."
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