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Showing posts from November, 2019

Meriden-Wallingford Hospital

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The Hospital Nobody Bothered to Ruin In my world, attention is what kills a building. This one sat in the dark for thirty years, and nobody came. That may be the only reason it gets a decent ending. I drove past this place for years and never once wanted to go in. That sounds strange coming from me. Finding a way into empty buildings is what I do. But I knew this hospital by sight long before I knew anything about it, because it sits on the road I took to the old International Silver power plant , and every time I passed it I thought the same thing: not worth it. Boarded up. Dark. Picked over. Nothing in there for me. I want you to hold onto that, because it turns out to be the most important fact in this whole story. How A Hospital Dies Twice Hospitals are the trophy. Everybody in urban exploring knows it. There is something about them that pulls people in harder than a factory or a school ever will, and I understand why. You are walking through the rooms where people were...
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Wildcliff Mansion (Cyrus Lawton House) Revisit on Anniversary of Fire

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A revisit on the anniversary of the arson that claimed this National Historic Place. A few weeks ago I was in the area and headed up to the now-destroyed Wildcliff mansion in New Rochelle, New York. This unoccupied mansion was torched on November 26, 2018, by four middle school minors. All four teens were caught and found guilty of criminal trespass and one charged with arson. The fire completely destroyed the 1852 mansion that overlooked the Long Island Sound. Built as a wedding gift for the couple Sarah Marie Davenport and Cyrus Lawton, the cottage villa was designed by architect Alexander Jackson Davis. The historic residence boasts 20 rooms and has the advantage of facing the spectacular scenery of the open water save the now public park structures (Hudson Park) down below the property. According to City Historian Barbara Davis, “Wildcliff, as the Gothic cottage was later renamed, was gifted to the City of New Rochelle by the Julius Prince family in 1940. A...
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Location: 42 Wildcliff Rd, New Rochelle, NY 10805, USA
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Bayside Fuel Oil Depot Corporation (Part 3)

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On a lighter note, with a long road ahead before being incorporated into the existing Bushwick Inlet park, the site played a pretty epic part in the 2014 crime thriller, A Most Violent Year featuring Oscar Isaac (Star Wars: The Force Awakens) and Jessica Chastain (It: Chapter Two) Finally, we explore the remaining building whilst excluding the front garage in the front. The upper floors contained a healthy mix of small compartmental rooms and bathroom areas. Per usual, graffiti adorned all available walls found within. Status : Demolished Address : 1 N 12th St, Brooklyn, NY 11249 Sources : Brooklyn Relics
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Bayside Fuel Oil Depot Corporation (Part 2)

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Before the Bayside Company was fully known as the Bayside Fuel Oil Corporation. It was transferred by Standard Oil, its previous owner, in the 1940s. Its primary use before that time was mainly for storage and refinery purposes. Later on, it became a wholesale distributor of heating oil. Founded by Charles Pratt, it was one of about fifty refineries operating in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. During the 19th century, Williamsburg was the center of oil refining along the East River & Newton Creek. Fun facts, "some of the largest industrial firms in the nation were started in this area (inland & along Newtown Creek), including Pfizer Pharmaceutical Corporation (1849); Brooklyn Flint Glass (later Corning Glassware ); and the Havemeyers and Elder Sugar Refinery in Williamsburg (later Amstar and then Domino ), once the largest establishment in the world." In the early 2000s, Bayside Oil was proposed to be demolished by a company called Clean Point En...
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Connecticut Telephone and Electrical Company

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  Artist's view of plant in 1918, from the Hughes and Bailey bird's eye view. The former Connecticut Telephone and Electrical Company building in Meriden, Connecticut, is a place that feels like a snapshot from another time. It had been years since I last stepped foot inside, but on a warm day, my companion, J, and I ventured in again, slipping in quietly like field mice. The moment we entered, the familiar layout of an old mill greeted us—wide-open spaces punctuated by rows of sturdy wooden support beams stretching from one end to the other. As we climbed to the top floor, something unexpected caught our attention: piles of fabric strewn across the floor. It was an odd find, especially in a building like this, and it made us pause. For arsonists who haunt these forgotten places, it could have been a dream—kindling for flames in a structure largely made of wood. But, remarkably, this old mill had avoided the fate of so many others that succumbed to fire. What stood out, though,...
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Former Sonoco Paper Mill

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  Long before Amsterdam, New York, earned its title as the “Carpet City,” its story was written in water. The restless energy of the Chuctanunda Creek, a modest stream tumbling through the Mohawk Valley, was the city’s first engine. By the early 1800s, its currents were powering the fledgling mills, setting the stage for a transformation that would define not just a city, but an entire era of American industry. The real revolution, however, arrived on a man-made river. The opening of the Erie Canal in the mid-19th century, followed by the iron arteries of the railroad, was like a jolt of lightning. Suddenly, this small upstate city was plugged directly into the world. The goods crafted in its workshops, from linseed oil and simple brooms to intricate buttons and ironworks, could be shipped anywhere with astonishing speed and economy. Amsterdam was no longer just a town; it was becoming a hub. Yet, among its many trades, one industry rose to define its identity. The city’s name beca...
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Diner Dreams and Declines: The Kullman Dining Car Company

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  While exploring the area for a different site, I stumbled upon this abandoned property, marked by a large pile of household refuse and debris from commercial demolitions, improperly discarded. As night began to fall, I hesitated to venture inside alone. This caution might have been fortuitous, for on a subsequent visit to Newark, New Jersey, I discovered a makeshift bed crafted from an oversized couch. It seemed someone might be using this as a makeshift sleeping area, unwittingly inhaling potentially lethal chemicals not meant for human respiration. The entry to this forsaken place was through a semi-open truck loading dock, obstructed by a concrete barrier, presumably to halt further looting of the structure or to deter unethical contractors from dumping their illegal waste under the veil of night. Once an industrial site, this property was marred by environmental pollutants such as metals, paint, and polyaromatic hydrocarbons. Ninety-one years ago, it was operational before fa...
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Inside the Abandoned Horsman Doll Factory in Trenton

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  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...
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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...
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