Unsafe Pillsbury flour mill churning over new chapter
SPRINGFIELD, Ill. — It was the dog, stuck atop skyscraping grain silos on Springfield’s northeast side in 2019, that forced Chris Richmond’s hand.
The stray had found its way to the top of the behemoth Pillsbury Mills, for decades a flour-churning engine of the central Illinois city’s economy but now vacant more than 20 years. Rescue was too risky amid such decay, officials said.
The brief but precarious appearance by the dog, found dead at ground level days later after ingesting rat poison, represented the hopelessnessposedbythe vacant campus, Richmond recalled.
“That’s when I said, ‘This is just unacceptable in our community,’ ” said the 54-year-old retired city fire marshal, whose father’s Pillsbury paycheck made him and his brother first-generation college graduates.
A year later, Richmond and allies emerged with a nonprofit called Moving Pillsbury Forward and a five-year, $10 million plan to raze the century-old plant and renew the 18-acre site.
Richmond, the group’s president and treasurer, vice president Polly Poskin and secretary Tony DelGiorno have $6 million in commitments and targets for collecting the balance.
Having already razed two structures, the group expects the wrecking ball to swing even more feverishly next year. Next door to a rail yard with nationwide connections, they envision a light industrial future.
Meanwhile, Moving Pillsbury Forward has managed to turn the decrepit site in Illinois’ capital city into a leisure destination verging on cultural phenomenon.
Tours have been highly popular and repeated. Oral histories have emerged.
Spray-paint vandals, boosted instead of busted, have become artists in resi- dence for nighttime graffiti exhibitions, which more than 1,000 people attended.
Retired University of Illinois archaeologist Robert Mazrim has mined artifacts and assembled an “Echoes of Pillsbury” museum beneath a leaking loading dock roof. This month, the plant’s towering headhouse is ablaze with holiday lights.
Perhaps the exuberance with which Moving Pillsbury Forward approaches its task sets it apart. But in terms of activist groups pursuing such formidable reclamation aspirations, it’s not unusual, said David Holmes, a Wisconsin-based environmental scientist and brownfields redevelopment consultant.
Government funding has expanded to accommodate them.
“You find some high-caliber organizations that are really focused on the areas with the biggest problems, these most-in-need neighborhoods,” Holmes said. “A lot of times, cities (local governments) are focused on their downtowns or whatever gets the mayor the ribbon cutting.”
Minneapolis-based Pillsbury built the
Springfieldcampusin1929 and expanded it several times through the 1950s. A bakery mix division after World War II turned out the world’s first boxed cake mixes.
Pillsbury sold the plant in 1991 to Cargill, which departed a decade later. A scrap dealer ran afoul of the law with improper asbestos disposal in 2015, prompting a $3 million U.S. Environmental Protection Agency cleanup. Moving Pillsbury Forward persuaded the EPA to drop a lien for its cleanup costs and purchased the property for $1.
Now, all that’s left is to sweep up the remaining asbestos and lead paint chips before pulling down more than 500,000 square feet of factory, including a 242-foot headhouse that’s the city’s third-tallest structure and 160 silos, four abreast and standing 100 feet.
The 2021 Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act included $1.2 billion for brownfields cleanup, four times the typical annual allotment. The Pillsbury group wants $2.6 million of the total added to what the group already has been promised by the federal, state and Springfield governments.