Documenting the Jumping Jack Pump Plant






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 out of the gaze of any unsuspecting explorer travelling within the state who may, by happenstance, find 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 graffiti artwork. This place will not disappoint the most ardent explorer out there. But be forewarned, inside has become wildly dangerous as stairs rust and fall to the ground, and crumbling ceiling walls give way to the encroaching elements.





The reason why it is called the "Jumping Jack Power Plant" was coined by veteran photographer and urban explorer Will Ellis. Behold the coal feed machine. Do you see the resemblance?




















One of the most sought-after and most photographed has to be the remnants of the forgotten chop shop located on the ground floor. Based on historical findings by Will Ellis, the ground floor housed a vibrant chop shop before being sealed by authorities during the crime cleanup in the 80's and 90's. The one complete car frame forlornly sits on two bricks, leaning to one side. This Chevy Citation has now received three coats of paint on the side of the driver's store since its location has become more knowledgeable to other explorers and vandals.















A four-door 1980 Chevy Citation hatchback frame. This Chevy was equipped with the four-cylinder Iron Duke engine at the time, which allegedly got 41 miles per gallon.










Inside is a smorgasbord of incredible lines and old machinery tucked inside. This power plant was once a humming energy conduit for the nearby neighborhood, but has long been forgotten. I've spent countless hours trying to find the true name of this abandoned power plant, but all my research has pointed to future developments of a different type of modernised power plant for this up-and-coming neighborhood.

In addition, the plant holds some iconic and legendary graffiti artists such as Klops and other unknown artists I've yet to identify. If anyone out there knows any of the following, let me know so I can update this post so they can be recognised. You definitely know good graffiti from amateur, since many people respect it so well that they do not erase or cover up with their own works. Respect earns mutual respect.










Klops





A very weird piece, but very interesting.















Hello Jen!





Klops graffiti.












Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

United States Naval Air Propulsion Center (NAPC)

Image
This place holds a special meaning for me. I’ve visited several times, determined to explore every corner and uncover its secrets. But no matter how hard I tried, I never quite managed to see it all. The main front building, the one closest to the road? Never got inside. The massive cooling building in the back with its giant fans and smaller outbuildings? Missed that, too. And then there was the tank farm—a cluster of 22 rusty tanks tucked away in the upper right corner of the property. For some reason, no one ever took pictures of those tanks, even though they sat quietly in the shadows. I only noticed them recently, flipping through my old research notes. That’s when it hit me: I’d never taken the path that led there, too hesitant to get close to the Trenton-Mercer Airport’s fence line. I wasn’t here to get in trouble. I was here for the peaceful, empty buildings, not to risk getting caught wandering near airport grounds. Still, being there felt like stepping back in time. Walking t...
Read more

Waterbury’s Forgotten Factories: The Story of Bristol Babcock

Image
  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...
Read more

Echoes of the Oven: The Legacy of Nicetown Freihofer's Bakery

Image
Six years ago, I embarked on an exploratory journey through the forgotten corridors of a place whose name was unknown to me then. Only recently, with a bit of help, I unraveled the mystery: this place, archived in my memory and on my hard drive, was the Freihofer Baking Company. This discovery rekindled a special connection in my heart, remembering my early days in urban exploration in Philadelphia. It was here that I first tasted the thrill of exploring abandoned buildings, a passion that soon had me crossing state lines in search of that exhilarating, novel feeling once more. The neighborhood surrounding the Freihofer Baking Company was a stark canvas of socio-economic hardship, a desolate space that spoke volumes of its forgotten glory. I remember vividly the day I ventured there. Agile and swift, I maneuvered over a wall of large rectangular stones – a barrier against scrappers seeking to plunder valuable metals. These stones were a gateway to the past, leading me to the nearest op...
Read more

Philadelphia Branch House of International Harvester Co

Image
On North 16th Street in Philadelphia, a quiet piece of industrial history looms—its story tied to changing times and unfulfilled promises. This building, steeped in nearly a century of commercial and industrial legacy, tells a tale of shifting economic tides and unrealized dreams for redevelopment.   From my research, the building predates the 1942 land use maps, with its earliest recorded presence dating back to the 1920s. Over the decades, the structure served various roles. It housed a branch of the International Harvester Company, a manufacturer of tractors and motor trucks, and later split its space with a Sears Roebuck warehouse. Other businesses came and went, including Hess & Son, which produced non-corrosive tinning sticks branded as Tinol; The Bunting Company, known for its powder-coated metal furniture, and The Shore Company, a distributor of shipping trailers.   Today, the building’s fate remains uncertain. Once, a vision was to transform the site int...
Read more

St. Michael and St. Edward Church: A Cornerstone of Fort Greene

Image
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...
Read more