Harsh rail yard lighting throws shadows of broken windows against the line of boilers.
The old hotel doesn’t like to show its age. Indeed, if it had a few paint job and soft remodel it would be fit to open–that is, if there was a need for it in this tiny rural New York town.
Looking through the dark door at Shaft 3, when my naked eyes could only make out a staircase lit dimly from above.
The hospital is so self art deco that it seems like a film set!
A damaged roof channeled rain onto the adobe walls, cutting them in half. In the distance, a preserved house and the ruins of the Colmor School.
In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
Employee lockers near the stage, Service Building.
Shadows of the timberwork and cribbing are cast across cracked lake ice. My footprints follow cat tracks.
One side of the street is demolished. The other is not.