Our platform is the most extensive digital repository of the Northeast's historic, at-risk, and overlooked structures, infrastructure, New York City streets, and other locations.
Garden Buds, Flowers & Bees (Lens Test)
Get link
Facebook
X
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps
This is a shot of some weeds in my neighbor's overgrown backyard. Just the other day he cleaned it up. I wonder why? :)
In July 2024, the historic Quinebaug Mill met its fate, reduced to rubble after standing for over a century. Despite plans to transform the site into residential apartments, the project fell through. The primary roadblocks were a mix of logistical challenges and financial impracticalities. The Town of Killingly’s sewer system, already nearing capacity, couldn't accommodate the additional strain a large housing development would bring. Alternatives, like installing a private septic system, proved just as unfeasible, leaving developers with few options. In the end, the mill’s long decline culminated in demolition, another chapter closed in the story of New England’s once-thriving textile industry. Unlike many abandoned mills that became storage spaces for forgotten relics or junk, Quinebaug Mill was eerily empty. Its interior, stripped of its former industrial vibrancy, showed little evidence of its past life as a cotton mill. Decay had taken hold—moisture had compromised the wood ...
I was driving towards what used to be the Consumers Park Brewery when something caught my eye—the wooden gate doors of the old auto parts store were wide open. Someone had broken in. The building had been vacant for years, even as new construction surged all around it. Right next door, a fresh, modern structure had risen, but this place remained untouched—a relic of the past hollowed out and forgotten. I pulled over without hesitation. These moments don’t come often. A while back, another shuttered dealership had been left open for months, its entrance exposed. Graffiti artists had made their mark on the metal gates, turning the abandoned space into an urban canvas. I had thought about exploring it, but before I could, the gates were suddenly chained shut overnight. The opportunity was gone. Not this time. This time, I wasn’t letting the moment slip away. I stepped inside, finally getting a look at what had been hidden behind those rolled-down gates and green plywood barriers. An...
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...
When I arrived at the former Aerosol Techniques factory, I was filled with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Meeting a group of new friends for a day of urban exploration in Connecticut, we had a lineup of intriguing abandoned sites on our agenda. Our itinerary included the hauntingly beautiful Seaside Sanatorium, a former hospital, along with a few other potential spots that we were less certain about. We chose the factory as our starting point, mainly because it offered easy access and was conveniently situated next to a Lowe's hardware store. Walking along a well-trodden path, our group made a seamless transition onto the property. The sense of camaraderie was palpable as we embarked on our adventure with eager enthusiasm. The factory grounds, long deserted, were a canvas for countless graffiti artists. Every inch of the building was adorned with vibrant and eclectic street art, each piece telling its own story. This rich color and creativity set the perfect stage for our imp...
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...
Comments
Post a Comment