Mill Shutdown: Can $4.5M Save NC's Rural Workers?

In the rolling hills of western North Carolina, the hum of machinery at Pactiv Evergreen’s Canton paper mill once signaled stability for families across 11 counties. That sound fell silent in 2023, leaving hundreds of workers adrift after the mill’s closure and layoffs at its Waynesville facility. The U.S. Department of Labor’s recent announcement of an additional $2 million in funding, bringing the total to $4.5 million, offers a lifeline to these dislocated workers, promising retraining and job search support. Yet, this moment demands more than a pat on the back for incremental aid; it’s a clarion call to rethink how we value the people who keep rural America alive.

The ripple effects of a factory shutdown don’t stop at the plant gates. In towns like Canton, where manufacturing jobs anchor entire economies, the loss reverberates through grocery stores, schools, and even the firehouse. Families who counted on those paychecks now face uncertainty, their futures hinging on whether this funding can deliver real opportunity. For too long, workers like these have been treated as collateral damage in a shifting economy, but North Carolina’s response, rooted in the Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act, signals a refusal to let them slip through the cracks.

This isn’t just about one mill or one state. It’s about a nation reckoning with what it owes its people when industries falter. The Labor Department’s investment isn’t charity; it’s a down payment on justice for workers who’ve been sidelined by forces beyond their control. And it’s a chance to prove that government can step up when the private sector walks away.

The $4.5 million allocated so far taps into a broader vision: equipping workers with skills for a world that’s changing faster than the paper industry can keep up. Across Buncombe, Cherokee, and nine other counties, this funding will fuel retraining programs, offering courses in high-demand fields like healthcare and clean energy. Evidence backs this approach; Washington State’s Worker Retraining program, for instance, boasts a 74% employment rate within a year for participants, with median earnings nearing $50,000. That’s not a fluke, it’s a blueprint.

Contrast that with the alternative: leaving workers to fend for themselves in a job market that’s already stacked against rural communities. Critics might argue that market forces alone can sort this out, that government intervention distorts natural economic cycles. But that’s a convenient excuse for inaction, ignoring the reality that factory closures gut local tax bases, leaving schools underfunded and streets unpaved. Data from 2023 shows rural manufacturing accounts for 12.4% of jobs in these areas; when those vanish, the void isn’t filled by wishful thinking.

Historical lessons reinforce this urgency. After General Motors shuttered its Lordstown plant in 2018, 8,000 jobs evaporated, and the surrounding Ohio community still grapples with ‘zombie homes’ and shuttered storefronts. North Carolina’s proactive stance, bolstered by federal dollars, rejects that fate. It’s a recognition that retraining isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity, and one that pays off; workers in well-designed programs often recover 88% of their prior wages, with lower earners sometimes surpassing their old paychecks by 17%.

The Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act, enacted in 2014, underpins this effort, channeling resources to those hit hardest by economic upheaval. With $3.6 billion requested for state grants in FY 2025, the Act’s architects understand that supporting dislocated workers isn’t just about jobs, it’s about dignity. In a paper industry battered by digitalization and shifting demands, this funding ensures workers aren’t left behind as packaging booms while print fades.

Still, the challenge looms large. Skill mismatches persist, with displaced workers facing earnings losses averaging 25% when training doesn’t align with growing sectors. Community colleges, a linchpin in this fight, need more than the $70 million proposed in the latest budget to scale up technical and healthcare courses. North Carolina’s workers deserve a system that doesn’t just patch holes but builds bridges to lasting security.

This funding isn’t a standalone fix; it’s part of a broader battle to reimagine rural economies. The Labor Department’s $10.3 billion request for employment and training in FY 2025, including $8 billion for a new Career Training Fund, reflects a commitment to workers nationwide. Add in $335 million for apprenticeships in clean energy, and you see a strategy that ties economic renewal to climate progress, two crises that demand bold action.

Opponents might scoff, claiming this is bloated government overreach, a waste of taxpayer dollars on people who need to ‘adapt or move.’ That argument collapses under scrutiny. Rural communities can’t diversify overnight when infrastructure lags and investment dries up; the Sonoco Hutchinson closure in 2023, costing 300 jobs, proves how quickly the dominoes fall. Federal support isn’t a handout, it’s a catalyst, unlocking potential in places too often written off.

Look at the paper industry itself. Employing over 404,000 workers and generating $401 billion annually, it’s adapting to e-commerce and sustainability, not dying out. Investments in automation and biodegradable materials signal a future where retrained workers could thrive, if given the chance. North Carolina’s $2 million boost is a step toward that future, but it’s not enough on its own; systemic change requires sustained commitment, not stopgap measures.

The human cost of inaction is stark. Lost wages don’t just shrink bank accounts, they erode hope. When mills close, rural kids see fewer paths forward, and towns risk becoming hollowed-out shells. Bipartisan efforts to reauthorize WIOA in 2025, like the ‘A Stronger Workforce for America Act,’ show even divided leaders grasp this truth. North Carolina’s workers aren’t asking for pity; they’re demanding a fair shot.

The $4.5 million flowing into North Carolina isn’t the end of the story, it’s the opening chapter. It’s a pledge to workers that their government sees them, not as statistics, but as people with bills to pay and dreams to chase. This funding, paired with a national push for workforce development, can turn a moment of loss into one of renewal, if we refuse to settle for less.

America stands at a crossroads. We can let rural communities wither, blaming global trends, or we can fight for a system that lifts up those who’ve carried us through decades of change. North Carolina’s dislocated workers aren’t just numbers on a ledger; they’re the backbone of a region that deserves better. This investment is a start, but the real victory lies in proving that when the mills go quiet, the people don’t have to.