Digital Ink'd

A skull is usually a warning. A symbol of death, a sign to keep out. But for a brief, electric moment in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, a painted skull did the exact opposite. It drew people in. In 2017, this haunting image, splashed across the face of a derelict brick building, became an unlikely landmark, sparking a frenzy of media attention and inspiring pilgrimages to the industrial waterfront. This lonely structure, however, was not just a canvas. It was a ghost, the last remnant of a colossal industrial machine that had burned spectacularly in 2006. This was once the home of the American Manufacturing Company, a name that has faded from memory but once defined the neighborhood. Covering 14 acres and six city blocks, it was the largest rope-making factory in the United States, its buildings dating back to 1890. This was a city within a city, employing over 2,500 workers, mostly female Polish and Lithuanian immigrants who lived in the tight-knit community nearby. Their hands twisted jute an...

  The July sun was merciless, turning the asphalt of Woronoco Road into something you could practically fry eggs on. J and I pressed forward anyway, drawn toward the hulking mill building that had been cleaved in two by the road itself, a giant of industry now straddling the pavement like some forgotten monument to another era. We started with the right side of the complex, the structure known as Strathmore Paper Mill No. 1. The No Trespassing signs were everywhere, faded by weather and time, but we slipped inside regardless. Call it curiosity. Call it something deeper. There's a pull these old places have on certain people, a whisper from the walls that promises stories worth hearing. Our plan that day was ambitious: explore the entire Strathmore Mill Complex, all three buildings that once hummed with the machinery of American manufacturing. Reality, as it often does, had other ideas. We managed to navigate through Mill No. 2 and No. 1, but the warehouse remained stubbornly out of...

  The July heat of 2017 hung heavy over Woronoco Road, but that did nothing to diminish the sight before us. Strathmore Paper Mill No. 1 stood like a monument to another era, its weathered brick facade still holding strong against time. Behind the mill, the Woronoco Falls provided a constant soundtrack, the rushing water a reminder of why this spot was chosen for industry more than a century ago. My friend J and I had made the trip along Old Route 20 specifically for this place. The mill looked untouched, almost frozen in time, save for the expected cluster of "No Trespassing" signs posted along the perimeter. Across the street sat the warehouse, sometimes called Mill No. 3, connected to our target by an old catwalk that stretched between the two red brick structures. We studied it from a distance, hoping for an angle of approach, but access proved impossible that day. The catwalk taunted us with what could have been. Still, we had come too far to leave empty-handed. We spen...