B y S c o t t E d w a r d A n d e r s o n // P h o t o s b y M a x V a d a k i n
The exposed wooden beams, brick walls, and steel I-beams give the apartment an aesthetic that feels more upscale Brooklyn than affordable housing in the Berkshires, but that contrast is perhaps the point. From the windows in the apartments on the north side of the old Eagle Mill, built in the early 19th century, one can see the Housatonic River flowing past; the same river that once powered the mill’ s paper production. Cabinets and countertops are in place; appliances are installed; floors are sanded and walls( where they are not exposed brick) are painted. After 14 years of effort, the end is finally in sight.
For developer Jeffrey Cohen, the moment represents something close to vindication.
“ It feels wonderful,” he says.“ It’ s major league credibility after 14 years. There’ s nothing better than that.”
The route to this moment reveals that Cohen is the kind who persists through more than a decade of setbacks, financing challenges, and pandemic disruptions. He’ s someone who views quitting as simply not an option, someone driven as much by civic responsibility as financial returns, and someone willing to bet on a future where essential workers can afford to live where they work.
From Eyesore to Gateway
When Cohen first turned his attention to Eagle Mill in 2012, the sprawling brick complex at the northern edge of downtown Lee had been abandoned for four years. Once one of 25 paper mills that powered the town’ s economy, it shut down in 2008 when Schweitzer-Mauduit ceased operations. What remained was a contaminated brownfield: soil pollution, asbestos, lead paint, and a hulking structure many saw as an eyesore.
Cohen saw something else: a chance to preserve a piece of Berkshire history while responding to a growing housing shortage that was already visible more than a decade ago.
“ I don’ t like to see what I consider part of our cultural heritage disappear,” he says,“ and I don’ t like to see historic renovations that ignore the standards meant to protect that heritage.”
Lee’ s leaders shared that sense of significance.“ It’ s a very historic mill,” says Town Administrator Christopher Brittain.“ I believe that’ s where they discovered you could make paper out of wood pulp.” Brooke Healy, Lee’ s town planner, calls it“ key to the identity of Lee,” noting how deeply the mill shaped the town’ s past.
Cohen’ s original plan reflected that importance. He envisioned a $ 60 million mixed-use redevelopment: 78 housing units, waterfront offices, a food market, outdoor deck, microbrewery restaurant, and a 100-room hotel. It was an ambitious effort to reanimate downtown while honoring the mill’ s 1808 origins.
Then the pandemic hit, upending the hospitality and retail markets. Infrastructure costs doubled. Eagle Mill’ s overall construction costs climbed to nearly $ 80 million. What had taken years to plan suddenly no longer penciled out. The project needed a fundamental rethink.
What emerged was smaller in scope but arguably greater in impact: a development centered almost entirely on affordable and workforce housing. The revised plan calls for 135 to 156 units across three phases, with 56 apartments delivered in the first phase inside the historic mill buildings.“ Every day, the glass is half full,” Cohen says.“ You don’ t give up. That’ s not in our vocabulary.”
Left, exposed bricks and beams throughout the building give it a contemporary feel; right, bold colors delineate each floor of the building.
Fall 2026 BERKSHIRE MAGAZINE // 87