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On the Straight & Narrow Path
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Abandoned Brooklyn Subway Train Line - Disused
Sometimes you have to keep plugging away and just keep moving forward. Don't get derailed. Lens Info: Super-Takumar 55mm 1.2 @ f/2
For a long time, this venerable and formidable pump house has withstood the treachery and explorations of many urban explorers. Only a few have ever found its true location within the state lines of New York. Before, only well researched urban explorers found this pump house long before it graced the pages of Will Ellis ' Abandoned NYC 's long heralded and well-published website. It has stood for many years from the gaze of any unsuspecting explorer travelling within the state who may by happenstance found it just by driving. Unfortunately, you cannot "drive" and see this pump house. This place is located deep in a mixed-use neighborhood encased in businesses no one unsuspecting would find for it to be located there at the end of the adjoining driveway. Once inside, the treasures to behold can be found. Inside you will find old boilers, coal dust, century-old coal, a flooded basement, three entombed car frames and an infinite supply of remarkable ...
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...
In my extensive ventures across various businesses, churches, factories, and plants, I've encountered a plethora of remnants from bygone industrial eras. Yet, none have left as profound an impression as the sight of the leftover machinery at the former Potter Hill Mill. Nestled amidst its surroundings, these aging relics stand as silent witnesses to a vibrant industrial past, their once-potent functionality now subdued by the relentless march of time. The manufacturing equipment, once the lifeblood of cotton goods production, remains steadfast, firmly bolted to the floor, slowly succumbing to the relentless embrace of rust and decay. It's a scene frozen in time—a rare glimpse into the mechanical marvels of the 1800s, preserved in their original state, untouched and unscathed by modern interventions. As I gaze upon the weather-worn structures and rusted machinery, I'm struck by the poignant juxtaposition of past and present. The former textile mill, once a bustling hub of...
For nearly a century, the city was known as the “Brass Capital of the World,” with a thriving industrial and manufacturing sector. But when the American brass industry declined in the 1970s, the city was hit hard by a series of economic challenges. Factories closed, jobs disappeared, and in their wake, large areas of land were left contaminated and abandoned. These brownfield sites, once bustling hubs of production, became symbols of the city’s struggle to adapt to a changing economy. By 2019, the city had made significant progress in cleaning up these sites, having remediated over 178 acres of land. Still, 140 acres of brownfields remained, with efforts underway to return them to productive use, offering hope for a new chapter of growth and development. One notable site is the former Bristol Babcock Facility, which operated from 1889 to 1989. The 6.6-acre property, with four buildings dating from 1895 to 1954, straddles the border between Waterbury and Naugatuck. The Bristol Bab...
The news arrived as it so often does: mundanely, in a Google Alert buried between spam and a newsletter. Eight days ago, the demolition of the former Warnaco Clothing Factory in Bridgeport began. For most people, this was a long-overdue end to a local eyesore. For me, it was a missed appointment, and I felt that familiar, frustrating pinch of an explorer beaten by the clock. I was supposed to go back. I had even bookmarked a YouTube video that allegedly revealed a secluded entrance into the main, larger building. My chance was gone. My first and only visit had been a tense reconnaissance. The place was a beautiful monster. I remember the floors feeling less like a structure and more like a damp suggestion. They were soft, spongy with rot, and every step was a careful calculation. Openings in the floorboards gaped wide enough to swallow a car, let alone a person. The air was thick with that specific perfume of urban decay: damp wood, swirling dust, and dark corners. There was a rumor th...
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