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John A. Roebling's Sons Company Upper Works

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Ghosts of the Wire Industry: Inside Trenton's Roebling Complex The first fence I found, I didn't jump. I had parked at the edge of the old industrial park and started walking the block, looking for a seam. That's the work. You circle the property, you read the edges, you find the spot where the chain link has been peeled back, or the post has gone loose. I found one almost immediately, a low fence, nothing to it. Then I noticed the man across the street watching me. So I kept moving, hands in my pockets, just a guy who'd taken a wrong turn. A few doors down, a commotion. Two people arguing in the middle of the street, loud enough that I slowed without meaning to. It ended the way those things usually end, with nothing settled. The man stepped back onto the sidewalk and then disappeared into the side of the building. Not through a door. Through a gap in the fence I couldn't see from where I stood. That told me two things. There was another way in. And I wasn...

Gloversville Continental Mills

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After the Fire: What Remains of Gloversville Continental Mills A Field of Bricks The bricks were everywhere. Not stacked, not standing. Just scattered across the ground like something vast had simply let go. What used to be Mill No. 3 of the former Gloversville-Continental Mills now spread out before me like a field of rubble, stretching from Beaver Street all the way back to the Cayadutta Creek bank. Thousands of bricks, the same ones that had held this building upright through more than a century of American manufacturing history, lay in random heaps with nowhere left to go. In one corner, pressed against a sealed-off wall, sat what remained of steel beams, HVAC machinery, and other miscellaneous load-bearing beams and the remains of 40 historical knitting machines. The fire had taken everything soft about them. What was left were twisted red-brown skeletons of rust and charred metal, piled on top of each other like they had tried to hold on and failed. Standing there in the ...

Virjune Manufacturing Co: Inside Waterbury's Vacant Factory

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J and I were already having a rough day. We'd just driven across town to check out an old industrial site he hadn't visited in a while, only to find it erased. Nothing left but a slab of concrete and chain-link fence. So we took a detour. Sometimes you salvage a disappointing afternoon with a backup plan, even if you're just ticking a box. The former Virjune plant hides in plain sight off Thomaston Avenue. If you drive past in summer, you'll miss it completely. Trees and shrubs swallow the building whole, nature reclaiming what industry left behind. Come winter, though, when the branches go bare and the world turns gray, the red brick skeleton reveals itself. Even then, you have to know where to look. I pulled up old Sanborn maps to trace the building's history. The earliest tenant was an auto body shop in 1922. By February 1950, something bigger had moved in. The map labels it simply "Stamping Wks." No company name. No flourish. Just function. That namele...

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