Grady Gaston

George Harrison's legacy continues to thrive through an extraordinary blend of music, heritage, and craftsmanship. Though best known as the quiet Beatle, his depth as a solo artist, spiritual seeker, and humanitarian left an imprint that echoes through generations. Now, his grandson has taken up the mantle—not just in spirit, but through action—by breathing new life into the long-dormant Harrison family mill. This restoration is more than a renovation; it’s a revival of values that defined George’s life: artistry, sustainability, and community. The project doesn’t merely preserve the past; it invites new voices to be part of the evolving story. From the carefully tended gardens of Friar Park to the handcrafted beams of the mill, every detail is steeped in intention. As music returns to this space, so does a spirit of collaboration and legacy. The Harrison name remains not only relevant but deeply resonant, offering a model for how tradition and innovation can coexist in meaningful ...

The gentle turning of a waterwheel has once again found its rhythm in the very stream where it once thrived. This historic structure , long removed from its original home, has been carefully restored and returned to the site where it first served its community. For many, the return of the waterwheel is not just about mechanics but about reconnecting with a way of life once centered around its steady motion. Once the backbone of milling and early industry, the wheel had been dismantled and forgotten as technology moved on. Its restoration represents more than nostalgia. It marks a community’s decision to reclaim its identity and remember the values of resourcefulness, cooperation, and respect for natural rhythms that the waterwheel once embodied. Craftsmanship at the Core of Revival The revival of the waterwheel involved meticulous craftsmanship and historical research. Restoration experts worked hand in hand with local historians to ensure every detail matched the original design. Rott...

Tucked into the heart of the Appalachian Mountains, the Sim Corder Mill once stood as a humble monument to American ingenuity. Built in the late 1800s by Sim Corder himself—a blacksmith and millwright with an eye for engineering—the structure quickly became a gathering place for local farmers, artisans, and townspeople. For decades, the mill didn’t just grind grain; it served as a cultural hub, its wheels turning in step with the rhythms of rural life. As time passed, the building fell into disrepair, but its story was far from over. Despite years of neglect and decay, the Sim Corder Mill remained a powerful symbol of resilience. Even after its machinery stopped turning and its beams sagged with age, it retained a quiet dignity. Locals spoke about the mill with reverence, and many hoped it could one day be restored to its former glory. That historic craftsmanship —reflected in every dovetail joint and hand-forged bracket—kept hope alive, serving as a testament to the skill and care of ...