The Former Fusion Paperboard Plant (Part 3)






Welcome back to our journey through Fusion Paperboard. In this third and final part of our series, we head south of the cardboard plant to explore its wastewater treatment facility.


Fusion Paperboard was a leading independent producer of high-performance coated recycled boxboard (CRB), folding cartons, and packaging for major food and consumer product brands across North America. The Connecticut-based paper mill took pride in its sustainable practices, producing 100% recycled, food-grade paperboard. It even earned certification under the Recycled Paperboard Alliance’s (RPA-100%) Recycled Fiber Certification Program.


Each year, Fusion Paperboard recycled more than 160,000 short tons of brown fiber material. That’s a significant commitment to reducing waste and promoting a circular economy. But the company’s dedication to sustainability didn’t stop there. The wastewater treatment plant played a key role in managing the environmental impact of its operations.


In the next section, we’ll take a closer look at how Fusion Paperboard used innovative processes to treat and manage its wastewater, ensuring cleaner water returned to the environment. Stay with us for this final leg of our exploration.































J and I moved casually through the thick, green foliage, the dense underbrush brushing against our legs as we made our way forward. The path was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and distant birdsong. Before us stood a vine-covered bridge — the final obstacle leading to the remains of the old wastewater treatment plant.


Crossing it carefully, we stepped closer to the first outline of the abandoned facility. Time had claimed its space here. The pools that once held treated water were now lined with green algae, the stagnant water untouched for years. Since the plant’s closure in 2014, nature has crept back in, leaving behind a still, eerie beauty.


It was hard not to wonder what it would have been like if the plant were still operational. Witnessing the process of treating wastewater from recycled paperboard production would have brought the space to life — a tangible example of how industry and sustainability had once worked hand in hand. Instead, all that remained were the remnants of a long-shuttered plant.



















A wastewater treatment plant is an essential part of any paperboard mill, ensuring that the water used during manufacturing is cleaned before being released back into the environment or reused in the factory. At Fusion Paperboard, this process was crucial for managing the large amounts of wastewater produced from recycling materials and making paperboard products.


During production, the water became contaminated with wood fibers, chemicals from bleaching and pulping, and other industrial waste. If left untreated, this polluted water could harm fish, plants, and even drinking water supplies. To prevent that, the treatment plant used a series of physical, biological, and chemical processes to remove harmful substances and meet strict environmental standards.



The process began with physical treatment, where large debris like wood chips, plastic, and sand was filtered out. Screens and settling tanks helped remove these materials. From there, the water flowed into large clarifiers, where gravity allowed heavier particles like fibers and dirt to sink to the bottom. The collected solids were then scraped away and sent for sludge processing.



















Next came the biological treatment stage. In large aeration tanks, the plant introduced helpful bacteria and microorganisms. These tiny organisms feed on the organic waste in the water, breaking it down into harmless byproducts. This step mimicked how wetlands naturally clean water, significantly reducing pollution levels.



For the final stage, the plant used chemical treatments to polish the water. Chemicals like alum or ferric chloride were often added to make small particles clump together, making them easier to remove. Some mills also used activated carbon, a highly absorbent material that trapped any remaining pollutants. In some cases, ultraviolet (UV) light was applied to kill bacteria and ensure the water was safe.


After passing through these steps, the water was tested to ensure it met environmental regulations. Clean water could then be safely released or reused in the mill’s production process. Meanwhile, the sludge from the clarifiers was processed—often dried and either burned for energy, composted, or disposed of in landfills.


And with that, we conclude our exploration of the former Fusion Paperboard plant. Thanks for joining us on this journey! If you’ve ever visited the site or have memories to share, feel free to drop a comment below — we’d love to hear your thoughts.




















If you missed the earlier parts of this three-part series, be sure to check them out:


The Former Fusion Paperboard Plant (Part 1)


The Former Fusion Paperboard Plant (Part 2)


Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more stories like this!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Trenton Horsman Doll Factory

Image
  You’ve got to move when the chance is right. That’s something I keep telling myself—but just as often, I forget it. Or ignore it. And then I end up learning the same lesson all over again. It happened on a quiet afternoon when I pulled up to the old Horsman Doll factory. The place has long been abandoned, but it still holds stories—ones I try to capture through my lens. The main gate was slightly ajar. Not wide open, but just enough for me to slip through with my gear. It was one of those rare opportunities. But across the street, half-hidden behind a rundown house, a group of men sat drinking and shouting over each other. The kind of scene you don't want to get caught up in—especially alone, carrying expensive camera equipment. I hesitated. I debated. I bailed. My gut told me to walk away, so I did. I figured I could find another way in. I circled the block, hoping for a back entrance or even a broken window low enough to climb through. I found one window that looked possible—bu...
Read more

National Silk Dyeing Company Valley Works

Image
The first time I set foot here, it was clear: this place was home to those with nowhere else to go. A worn dirt path led me from a nearly abandoned street into what remained of an old brick building. A makeshift shelter—pieced together from boards and tarps—stood neatly in the hollowed-out front, right beside a waste bin. The building had been gutted by fire long ago, leaving behind only a shell.   I moved carefully, not wanting to disturb anyone who might be inside. The path led me up a weathered wooden plank, serving as a walkway where stairs once stood. Stepping into what had been the main room, I found myself surrounded by scattered belongings—broken bicycles, old tools, and household items left in disarray.   To my right, a large blue tent was set up snugly against the wall, a stark contrast to the chaos around it. Someone lived there. This wasn’t just a forgotten space; it was a home, however fragile.   Alone, carrying an expensive camera, I felt the ...
Read more

Exeter Energy Tire Incinerator Plant

Image
  We pulled up the long, curving driveway and stopped at the gate. A black pickup truck was parked off to the side. Uneasy, we backed down the road, trying to decide whether to go through with the mission. We should have. Later, as I reviewed the drone footage, I saw it — an open doorway in the back. I can only assume it led straight into the tire-burning facility. But at the time, it didn’t show up on my controller’s feed. I wish we’d at least circled, and taken a look at the rear of the plant before giving up and heading to another site. That hesitation cost us. If we hadn’t let a parked truck shake our resolve, we could have been the only explorers on the entire East Coast to document one of the last two tire-to-energy plants in the country — the only one in New England. It wasn’t just a massive industrial site; it was the region’s primary solution for handling end-of-life tires, processing countless loads into energy. But we never went back. By the time we worked up the nerve a...
Read more

St. Michael and St. Edward Church: A Cornerstone of Fort Greene

Image
For weeks, I had been orbiting the perimeter of the impending demolition of the Church of St. Michael and St. Edward, a once revered church in the heart of Fort Greene, like a moth drawn to a flame. The neighborhood, a patchwork of tight project housing, seemed indifferent to the fate of this historic edifice. The intel I had received suggested that entry was as simple as scaling a wooden fence, yet the timing had never felt right. Until one day, it did. With a mission in New Jersey looming, I knew it was now or never. The demolition was advancing at a startling pace, the church's twin steeples already reduced to rubble. The skeletal remains of timber beams and rusted steel frames peeked out from the ruins, a testament to the relentless march of progress. Summoning a surge of courage, I seized a moment of quiet in the bustling housing project and vaulted over the fence. My heart pounded in my chest as I slipped unnoticed into the church grounds. The once grand entrance now stood as...
Read more