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.
Buckeye Ordnance Works was built in 1943. Between 1946 and the 1990s, various chemical companies have used the plant. Now it is a small wasteland.
The Buffalo Central Terminal opened months before the Great Depression, lived a smoldering life, and was mostly abandoned by the 1980s.
Daydreaming on the highest catwalk of a decaying, mostly demolished and nationally historical steel mill is… To hear the wind running like lost cats through the burned and rusted metal at sunrise is… A steel age safari–hunting a giant wire deer that haunts a riverside battleground.
Clyde Iron Works made the highest capacity cranes in the world in Duluth, decades after the industrial town got rusty. Then, a few years ago most of the complex was demolished to make room for a hockey rink. The machine shop is now a bar and grill.
What do steam engines, Henry Ford, and shipbuilding have in common? Sure, Detroit, but let’s be specific–I give you the Dry Dock Engine Works, a Detroit relic about to go through yet another overhaul…
It started as a rumor, then I heard it over and over–there was an abandoned train tunnel outside Duluth.
For 133 years, Hamm’s brewed good, cheap beer. “From the land of sky blue waters,” their jingle went, never finishing the sentence: “Comes the corporate takeover.” This post packs a childhood memory, the story of Hamm’s from its founding to recent demolitions. So sit down, crack a cold one, and…
The R.L. Hearn Generating Station served Toronto from the early 1950s through the 1990s. The first thing you’ll notice is the smokestack; the last thing you’ll notice is how much time you’ve spent inside. Good thing the Turbine Hall has a clock…
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.
This is War City, a 10,000-acre bomb that leveled a swath of Indiana to sow the seed of a World War Two powder plant. Now it sits as, arguably, the largest abandonment in North America, with thousands of structures and miles of abandoned roads and sidewalks connecting them all. This place was so huge that I had to spend two days there, squatting overnight, just to see a fraction of its ruins.