We left a number of stones unturned on this first haunting explore.
Vintage arcade machines still reside in the lobby (and called out my name),
a cage trap housed a mummified raccoon on the main floor,
and several abandoned vehicles sat entombed in a deep sub-basement below.
So I’ve already shared my first view of the piano that remained behind at a church quietly moldering away in a little neighborhood in Cleveland. Tabula Rasa gave a more comprehensive view in a later post and that got my competitive spirit going. So I went back into my files to see if I could produce something worthwhile to put him back in his place.
I will leave it to you all to decide if I have achieved my goal.
A long-stilled ferris wheel still stands in an old amusement park somewhere in the wilds of Ohio.
It is the end of an era in Gary, Indiana. There is a new mayor, and she isn’t just sitting on her hands when it comes to the looming carcass of the old Sheraton hotel which is cuddled up right next to city hall. She decreed it had to come down this year, and true to her word it is coming down, something every other mayor before her failed to do. You can read about the full history of this building over at Sometimes Interesting.
Great monstrous machines are slowly devouring it, and only half of the building was still standing when we stopped by last Sunday.
It makes me wonder what locations are next, there are several storefronts that have also been demolished along Broadway. Ambassador Arms comes to mind, as much as I love that building it is past time it was demolished for safety’s sake. More on that later.
The following is a bit of a rehashing and expansion on a subject already covered by the Idiot Photographer here. This is my turn to throw in my photographic two cents’ worth.
There is a ravine that runs through a part of southwest Cleveland which kept two racially disparate neighborhoods separated. The city built a 680 foot long suspension footbridge spanning the gorge in 1931. Amidst racial tensions in the 60’s, someone burned the wooden deck of the bridge, leaving it unusable. Ever since, it has been completely forgotten. Now, it is so overgrown it can’t easily be seen from the streets it once connected, and most Clevelanders have not heard of it.
There is a certain feeling one gets upon finding an object of which landscapers working mere yards away were wholly unaware. That feeling, for me, is the essence of urbex.