In March 1888, a 10-year-old George L. Radcliffe accompanied his father to survey the remains of the Spocott Windmill, which his father had built 36 years earlier. A freak winter storm on the East Coast had reduced the mill to rubble. His father, 70, was not up to rebuilding it. Young George, however, had other plans. He recovered the two 700-pound millstones and the still-intact internal steps, then stored them in a barn. In his mother’s last days, he promised her he would preserve much of the family history: the family property, the church her father had built, and his father’s mill.
Half a century would pass, a period that would see George serve two terms as a United States senator, become the longest-serving president of the Maryland Historical Society, and play a major role in the March of Dimes, stemming from his association with Franklin Roosevelt. George never forgot his promise. In 1970, George solicited a major donation from the Walter Hill family, whose ancestor had grown up at Spocott. He then had to find a builder for the mill, but the age of windmills was long past. At one time, Dorchester County had at least 20 windmills. With no elevation to provide flowing water, the citizens used wind power to grind their grain into meal. However, any previous builders and millers were long deceased. George turned to the only person who could tackle such a project. Renowned boatbuilder Jim Richardson accepted the challenge, and in 1972, his genius produced a reconstruction that incorporated the original stones and steps.
For 45 years, Tom Howell, Jim’s son-in-law, diligently maintained the mill, but time proved the curse, as mills generally last 50 years. By then, Jim’s mill had outlasted its predecessor by more than a decade. COVID delayed the necessary repairs, and soon after, the foundation trustees began a nationwide search for someone to repair the mill. There were only two recognized millwrights in the country, and the group finally connected with Husk Preservation, a Massachusetts outfit. The group’s president and founder, Amy Boyce, visited for two days this past April and immediately took an interest in the mill, especially noting some of the ingenious solutions Jim Richardson incorporated when he built it. She examined every aspect of the mill, taking multiple measurements and nearly 1000 photographs. In late August, she sent us a report.
The good news was that the base and basic structure were sound. Unfortunately, weather was not the mill’s friend, and several parts had significant water damage. To return the mill to its 1972 condition, Amy’s team would have to disassemble parts of the mill, repair them, and, in some cases, replace them. They would also have to refinish the stones and level parts that were now slightly out of kilter. She met with the trustees for a two-hour Zoom meeting in September and detailed every step of the process. There is no question she is the right person to handle the project if we choose to follow through.
Amy’s estimate for repairs ranged from $400K to $600K, depending on what additional issues might arise when previously hidden areas are exposed. This cost adds to the almost $200K required to raise part of the property and move two buildings to address rising sea levels. The community has a decision to make. I say “community” because Sen. Radcliffe never considered the mill or the property it sits on his. He always viewed himself as a steward rather than an owner. Though the Spocott Windmill Foundation oversees the mill and the property it sits on, Sen. Radcliffe considered them community property and asked that there never be admission or tour charges. We have honored that wish.
We are left with two choices. We can try to raise the funds to rebuild it fully, or, at a much lower cost, restore it aesthetically but leave it nonoperational. This ultimately comes down to whether Dorchester County and the Eastern Shore want an operating windmill. Dorchester County has a remarkable history, and windmills were an integral part of it. While many want to preserve the mill, our history will soon pass to future generations. In the fast-paced, digital world we live in, will our history still matter? As my grandfather and others have shared, ignoring history dooms us to repeat past mistakes. Knowing history lets us both celebrate past successes and learn from our errors. Our journey into the future should begin with an understanding of where we have been.
To rebuild or not to rebuild? That is the decision we face today. I see my grandfather looking over my shoulder. He dedicated his life to preserving history. As a senator, he saved the Constellation and Shot Tower for Baltimore and helped preserve many historic buildings locally, including Old Trinity and Grace Episcopal Church on Taylor’s Island. However, our future leaders should make this decision as we pass our history on to them. Antique dealers tell me there is less interest in old furniture and relics of the past. If the windmill falls into that category, its days are past. But the Spocott Windmill is more than an interesting structure; it reminds us of a simpler way of life and of the individuals who worked and sacrificed to give us the world we have today. They were tied to the land, the water, and the weather. They knew better than many today how to live in harmony with the land and wildlife. The mill dates to a time before electricity, when no bridges connected the county to the rest of the Shore and the state, and when citizens had to be self-sufficient, practical, and never wasteful. Despite all the modern advancements and technology, we can still learn so much from them.
The Spocott Windmill website: spocottwindmill.org