For the workers who saw through the last paper run, the day brought to end the long years of uncertainty that had dogged the mill. The dreadful certainty many of the younger workers face is entering a local job market that is all but moribund. 

For some, that will mean having to uproot and go in search of employment elsewhere, leaving behind social networks, many of which have been forged through common association with the mill.

Stark numbers about profit and loss only tell half the story of the mill’s demise. The human cost of tearing asunder the connections inevitably made in such a cohesive workplace is another equation altogether. When one spends a large part of their waking life in a workplace, the psychological disruption caused when that workplace is removed is immense. 

The ripple effects will be felt in the wider community as the deep sense of loss takes shape; at the pubs where workmates would gather after shifts, at the barbecues where those who have been forced to leave the region will be missed.

And for the rest of us, the drive past the mill on the way to Shoalhaven Heads will remind us what we have all lost. We’ve been watching it fade away over all these years, noting how empty the car park looks. Now, it’s final. It’s time to grieve.

All of us at the Register not only wish the workers the very best for the future, we also salute them for the sterling job they have done over these past five decades. They have been such an integral part of our community for so long and they will be held dear for years to come.