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Showing posts from March, 2025

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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The Former Fusion Paperboard Plant (Part 3)

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♻️ Former Fusion Paperboard Plant Series 🌿 Exploring the abandoned Fusion Paperboard recycling facility — from towering paper machinery and hydrapulpers to sludge ponds and the wastewater treatment plant that once supported sustainable recycled paperboard production. 🏭 Part 1 — First Exploration & Main Paper Machine ♻️ Part 2 — Hydrapulpers, Recycling & Sludge Systems 🌱 Part 3 — Wastewater Treatment Facility & Final Exploration 📦 Once producing 100% recycled coated paperboard, Fusion Paperboard recycled over 160,000 short tons of material annually before closing in 2014. Welcome back to our journey through Fusion Paperboard. In this third and final part of our series, we head south of the cardboard plant to explore it...
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Exeter Energy Tire Incinerator Plant

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  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...
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Location: 10 Exeter Dr, Sterling, CT 06377, USA
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National Silk Dyeing Company Valley Works

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The first time I set foot here, it was clear: this place was home to those with nowhere else to go. A worn dirt path led me from a nearly abandoned street into what remained of an old brick building. A makeshift shelter—pieced together from boards and tarps—stood neatly in the hollowed-out front, right beside a waste bin. The building had been gutted by fire long ago, leaving behind only a shell.   I moved carefully, not wanting to disturb anyone who might be inside. The path led me up a weathered wooden plank, serving as a walkway where stairs once stood. Stepping into what had been the main room, I found myself surrounded by scattered belongings—broken bicycles, old tools, and household items left in disarray.   To my right, a large blue tent was set up snugly against the wall, a stark contrast to the chaos around it. Someone lived there. This wasn’t just a forgotten space; it was a home, however fragile.   Alone, carrying an expensive camera, I felt the ...
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Orange Memorial Hospital of Essex County

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  Four photos. That’s all I managed to take of the abandoned Orange Memorial Hospital in Orange, New Jersey. I had explored countless forgotten places before, but this one was different. It wasn’t just the eerie emptiness or the decay—it was something heavier, something unsettling.   Stepping through an open window, I was immediately hit by the overpowering stench of human waste. Inside, the destruction was almost surreal. Time, vandals, squatters, and thrill-seeking teenagers had left the place in ruins. Papers were strewn across the floors, ductwork hung from the ceilings, and walls bore the scars of years of neglect.   But it wasn’t just the sights or smells that got to me. It was the feeling. A thick, unshakable presence weighed on me, like I was being watched. I had explored countless abandoned buildings alone, yet I had never felt this way before. Something about this place wasn’t right.   Despite my unease, I pressed on, making my way toward the...
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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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