Empty skyscrapers are always stealthy–they blend in with their busy neighbors with strange ease. Maybe it’s because people in the city are always looking town. Here’s a chance to look up–way up–at one of St. Louis’ longtime abandonments.
From a family home, to a Nazi retreat, to a children’s home, this crumbling castle in rural Belgium has a lot of stories to tell.
Under the star trails at our rooftop camp it was hard to believe that I was still living in a time when ghost towns–real ghost towns–were still engraved onto the sides of mountains. Below its cracked city streets courses the treasure that built the town and the poison that killed it. Cup your ears against the walls, be very still, and listen to the memory of a place called home.
Two things happened around Marquette, Michigan when the mining started: Native Americans were pushed off their land and miners got killed at work. Both of these factors filled this circa-1914 orphanage.
Its natural sulphur springs made the town, horse racing killed it–both on the trends of the tourists. See what got left behind in this historic rural village…
Many older cities around the US have areas like this, where last century’s mansions are today’s abandonments and hastily-split tenements. Not friendly places, people usually zoom through with their doors locked. I might have passed the neighborhood over too, if it wasn’t for one word, TWAIN.
Before it was demolished, one could venture above the tacky suspended ceiling of this movie house to revisit its Vaudeville past.
125 years after the fire that destroyed it, this early steamboat stop has its underground brought to light.
People live on top of it now, ever since the Francis Hotel was turned into apartments. There’s a chunk of the building that nobody can get into though, and it has been that way for a while. St. Paul’s lost stage.
Eliot warned about cities built on the ruins of other cities–maybe the same rule goes for theaters. Never forget: location, location, location.