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Showing posts from February, 2023

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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Pop Smoke Mural No. 3: Kings of Brooklyn Homage

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As the third anniversary of his untimely death let's appreciate the energy and unique art form Bashar Barakah Jackson aka Pop Smoke gave to the world. A solemn head bow and a moment of silence for the woo God.  I have been hunting for murals depicting drill rapper icon Pop Smoke all over Brooklyn. I came upon this mural while hunting for something else in the area. From the pictures, I knew I had to go see it in person, and boy did it not disappoint. From the images below you can see someone recently laid flowers and lit some candles to pay the woo homage to Canarsie Brooklyn’s fast-rising chart-topper. In addition, from the intense Internet interest in these beautiful murals of Pop Smoke, I knew I had to share them with my drill scene readers.  Each mural I have visited is uniquely different from the others and invokes different emotions and personal feelings when viewing them. You just have to see them, to appreciate them, not for the social media post but for the passion, l...
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Factory H Boiler House Demolition (International Silver Company)

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All these years I never thought Factory H's former power plant and boiler house   would still be standing. Well, unfortunately, the sweeping and cleaning up of blighted properties around Connecticut towns and cities by Governor Ned Lamont are torpedoing ahead with gusto. Underground fuel storage pit. Vacant medical facility across the brook. I remember quite fondly taking my first baby steps in exploring uncharted Connecticut territory as a New York native. Researching and looking up depressed economic cities and towns, taking a deep dive around bodies of water, rivers, and brooks, and finding locations like no tomorrow. As I saw one after another, I realized the locale of Meriden was chock-full. Those beginning days were filled with anxiety and wondering what stuff I would find in these abandoned buildings across the state.  The boiler house is to the left with a smokestack very prominent in this undated aerial. Factory H is in the foreground. I scoped out the property over...
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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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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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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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