The Backside of America

Nice Little House

2012-03-01T13:30:00.000-05:00

From Kristen Smith:

How many times have I driven right by this? Probably dozens. Never saw it until one recent day when I HAD to stop and shoot it.

It's a relatively tiny house, a cabin, really. With two chimneys and presumably two stoves for heat, it must have been quite snug. Each of the windows had a latch and pulley system and some of the interior finish work seemed quite nice.

It is a comfortable-looking little house, but it didn't appear to be wired for electricity and had no indoor plumbing that I could see.

Unfortunately the light was pretty harsh and I couldn't photograph what appears to be a wagon body leaning vertically up against the chimney on the far right. No chassis, just the wooden body. Very cool.

At one point it looks like someone used it to store crafting and greenhouse supplies, since there was a big garden hose on one wall and tons of plastic pots for plants and bins of pinecones, now falling to pieces. Oh how I wish places like this could speak and tell their stories.

Gathering Nutrients

2012-02-25T09:04:00.000-05:00

From Lostlosangeles:

I've been thinking a lot about L.A.'s Mulholland car wrecks lately. All of these wrecks have been tagged by the county, making sure there are no bodies. We found one bumper that still had cable attached. A failed attempt to lift the wreck out of the canyon. Now they just leave them. Slowly being eaten by the chaparral, no one's complaining.

These cars can offer so much meaning: survival, rebirth, reclamation, warning. I think it's time to go back soon.

The Sweet People

2012-02-20T17:05:00.000-05:00

From David Burke:

Honey truck, Canaan, CT:

Favorite Pastime, Reborn

2012-02-15T10:21:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I met Peter Arnemann on Facebook. We've never met in person, but a mutual friend suggested we become friends because we share interests in urban exploration and photography. He's signed on as an adjunct member of the Backside Gang. As such, we'll be posting links to photos of his that he's posted on the excellent Opacity site.

Peter visited an abandoned baseball stadium in Old Orchard Beach, ME, in 2008 and took these pictures. Peter told me that while the park is no longer used for minor league ball, it has been rehabbed for local use.

Through a quick Google search, I discovered that after sitting vacant for almost a decade, the park has indeed reopened after thousands of hours spent by community members to refurbish the stadium. Last December, the Futures Collegiate Baseball League announced that it has added a sixth franchise, to be based at Old Orchard Beach Ballpark.

For a brief history of the park, read this article from the park's official web site.

And for more pictures, from the park's heyday, through a fire and its resurrection, check this out.

Kezar Noir

2012-02-10T09:21:00.000-05:00

From Joe Viger:

Friday night 10:23 pm in Kezar Falls, Maine

Rusty Old

2012-02-05T10:32:00.000-05:00

From Mick Melvin:

I was on the way to a training recently and spotted this old rusty truck in Bloomfield, CT. I only had a few minutes to get to class, but I had to stop and take a few shots. When I stopped, I noticed two other vehicles.

I found it interesting that vehicles from three different eras seem to have found their resting place on someone's front lawn.

I Don't Do Urbex, But These Guys Do

2012-01-31T09:37:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Although I've been fascinated by the backside of America for much of my life, I only started taking pictures and writing about it two years ago. If I'd started documenting abandoned factories, railroad tracks, diners, houses, amusement parks and other out-of-the-way places before I had kids, I would have been totally into urban exploration.

But with a 9-year-old and a 4-year-old, I'm not willing to risk injury or arrest in pursuit of adventure and some cool photos. Call me a chicken, and I won't disagree. I really want to slip through fences and see what's going on behind the collapsing walls and smashed windows. But I don't think fast on my feet, and worry about my ability to talk myself out of trouble.

But thankfully, people like the folks who are making the "Crack the Surface" series of short documentaries are out there exploring the places that many of us wonder about, but are afraid to, or unable to, venture into.

Below is episode two of the "Crack the Surface" series. It features footage shot over six weeks in New York, Indianapolis, Chicago, Las Vegas, Minneapolis and Montreal.

Enjoy!

Crack The Surface - Episode II from SilentUK on Vimeo.

Smoke On the Water

2012-01-27T10:32:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

The story about these old pilings in the Charles River in Waltham, MA, turns out to be much better than I'd imagined. I figured they were remnants of an old dock, something simple where people could walk out and dangle their feet in the water and watch the boats and the ducks float by, while taking a break from the nearby watch factory. As time progressed, went my thinking, the dock rotted and fell apart and floated away, leaving behind these ghostly markers.

Well, this spot had much more going on during its heyday. I had to do quite a bit of searching to discover that a canoe manufacturer named C.P. Nutting built a boathouse here in 1914. According to an article I found at eHow.com, "This was also a boat house that was used for roller skating, boxing, dancing and concerts. This ballroom was famous, as it was one of the few ballrooms in Massachusetts, outside of Boston, where the famous big bands of the time played."

Here is a picture of the dance hall. And here is a card advertising some performances at the hall from 1936.

As for Nutting's company, according to a posting on a forum for the Wooden Canoe Heritage Association (I told you I had to dig deep!), "it was established in 1884, but did not start building boats and canoes until 1890. By 1905, between 6 and 10 canoe builders were employed at Nutting’s, and it was reported that on average, Nutting built 150 canoes per year. In contrast, the fledgling Old Town Canoe Company was producing about 10 times that many by 1906. Nutting’s specialty was canvas canoes, and they had a reputation of being finely constructed."

Nutting-on-the-Charles was not too far down the river from the Totem Pole Ballroom, which was part of Norumbega Park in nearby Newton, which I wrote about recently (see December 28, 2011, "Amusement Park Ghosts").

Norumbega, which was a "trolley park," closed down in 1963. Nuttings had a much more dramatic ending two years earlier, when it burned to the water line. All that's left are the pilings.

Drug Store

2012-01-21T08:48:00.000-05:00

From David Burke:

Taken in Torrington, CT.

The drugs are now sold out back.

Peaceful Rest

2012-01-13T12:30:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I don't have much to say about these pictures. They were taken at the Mt. Feake Cemetery in Waltham, MA. I don't shoot black-and-white much, but this place, on a cold, gray day, seemed like a good opportunity to practice those skills.

I call this picture "Class conflict," because of the two simple, low-slung stones looking up at the obelisk behind them.

In this one, I like the juxtaposition of the cracked sign with the proud, elegant statue behind it.

There are so many neat grave markers with cool patterns worn in over decades and centuries of wind and foul weather.

I like the variety that this shot showcases.

UPDATE: Chestnut Hill Phoenix

2012-01-10T08:55:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:There is progress at the Newton, MA, site where the Omni grocery store and other retail and business offices once stood, which I posted 19 months ago (see June 11, 2010, "Chestnut Hill Phoenix"). As I indicated at that time, New England Development plans a complex featuring residential, office and retail space. Recently, the developers announced the site, to be known as Chestnut Hill Square, will be anchored by a Wegmans grocery store. People are excited about that.While doing some Christmas shopping at the mall across Route 9 from the site, I snapped a few pictures of the demolition in progress.This is the approximate spot where the Omni once stood.Here are a few other shots of the site. I'll post more as this project advances.

Norumbega Point

2012-01-05T19:45:00.000-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

History is ever changing. Archeologists dig up tools, weapons and ceramics and recalibrate their assumptions about who lived in a certain place, when, and what they ate and how they obtained certain objects and skills. Historians are handed long-forgotten letters hidden away in somebody's attic, and realize they need to revisit certain assumptions about an author, a war or a religion.

It's not often, however, that you see monuments built to false history.

The Norumbega Tower is such an edifice.

The tower was commissioned by Eben Horsford, a 19th century Harvard chemistry professor who believed that Vikings had once occupied the site in Weston, MA, where Stony Brook empties into the Charles River. Horsford believed that the local Indian name Norumbega was a Native American translation of "Norway." As such, he was convinced that Vikings had settled in the area in 1000 A.D., and so paid for the large stone tower to honor these brave explorers.

Modern historians refute the idea that Vikings landed on these shores nearly 500 years before Christopher Columbus. For more on the subject, check out this Straight Dope column.

Across the Charles River from the tower sits the former site of Norumbega Park, a "trolley park" that ceased operations in the '60s. For a piece about the former amusement park, see December 28, 2011, "Amusement Park Ghosts."

Amusement Park Ghosts

2011-12-28T07:42:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

From 1897 to 1963 Norumbega Park in Newton, MA, was one of the premier trolley parks in New England. As was the fashion of the day, the park was built by the Commonwealth Avenue Street Railway in an effort to increase ridership. The park featured canoeing, a picnic area, an outdoor theater, a penny arcade, a restaurant, a zoo and a carousel, and several rides among other attractions. In 1930, the Totem Pole Ballroom opened; it was considered the best and most elegant ballroom in the area, according to NorumbegaPark.com, a site offering a history of the park as well as sales of a documentary DVD of the park.

The park took its name from Norumbega Tower, a large stone structure across the Charles River in Weston that was built by a Harvard professor to honor the Viking explorers he believed had visited the area in 1000 A.D. (this tower is the subject of my next post).

I'd known about the park's legacy for many years, but only recently got around to visiting the former site. Much of the land formerly occupied by the park now houses a Marriott Hotel. The remainder is conservation land.

At the entrance to the park, there is an overgrown, sunken garden surrounded by stone walls. I have no idea if this is a remnant of the amusement park. What I do know, is that local kids use it as to bomb around on their BMX bikes, as evidenced by this ramp, one of three I spied.

Just a little way down the path there are sections of stone wall that look like they were built before the amusement park.

And not much further down the path I found this light stuck in a tree. Now this I can picture as part of the park.

Behind the hotel there's a nice space that opens up to the Charles River. There's a gazebo there, as well as this old stairway leading up to some benches.

At the northern end of the park, where it meets with a nice residential neighborhood, I found this sagging barbed wire fence. Strange.

Happy Holidays!

2011-12-23T14:18:00.001-05:00

From Mick Melvin:

My wife and I were in New Britain, CT, to see an exhibit at the New Britain Museum of Art and I stumbled upon this backside opportunity. Across the street from the museum was a large display of Christmas lawn ornaments. I walked over to take a look and was amazed by the variety of decorations. I then spied a sign on the front lawn with dates of an open house. I never did make it back for the open house, but I did take a few shots.

As it turns out, the woman who lives at the house has been putting on the display since 1978. The admission fee for the open house is as little as a non-perishable food item. Rita Giancola, who is 87, opens up her house every year. This year it was open from December 18-22. Many schools and local folks come to view the Christmas extravaganza. The lawn is covered with many Christmas-themed items such as plastic Santa Claus, Toy Soldiers, Mickey Mouse, Winnie the Pooh and Snoopy to name a few. She also decorates the inside and the balcony of her home with a plethora of Christmas ornaments. It is said to be the largest lawn display in the area.

If viewing this display doesn't get you in the holiday spirit, you need to check your pulse. Happy Holidays to you all and best wishes for the new year!

Happy Shortest Day of the Year!

2011-12-22T00:30:00.001-05:00

God Mill Town Wilderness

2011-12-13T15:44:00.002-05:00

From Joe Viger:

Berlin, NH

Learn more here.

History Flows On, Part III

2011-12-06T19:24:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

This is the final installment in a three-part series providing some history of Greater Boston water works. See November 11, 2011, "History Flows On, Part I," and November 20, 2011, "History Flows On, Part II."

In the second part of this series, I wrote about a long hike I took in Cutler Park. The photos below were taken in another section of the park, hard by the Charles River and close to major retailers and business parks in both Newton and Needham, Mass. Here is a pump house similar to the one I featured in part two of the series.

Cutler Park was for a time used by the city of Newton, MA, as water storage before the Quabbin Reservoir in central Massachusetts was built in the 1930s. As such, pump houses like this one were surely more common sights in the Greater Boston area.

As I mentioned above, this area of Cutler Park is close to major thoroughfares. There is a bridge that carries abandoned train tracks across the Charles River from Newton into Needham. This is the underside of that bridge:

And here are the tracks, looking from Needham into Newton:

The tracks used to go all the way into the Needham Industrial Park (now known as the New England Business Center), a massive spread of buildings built in the 1950s. The tracks now end just behind a new housing complex on the fringe of the park:

I'm not sure if a resident of that complex dumped this side table, or if a hobo passing through couldn't fit it on his wagon:

OK, so this post wasn't really about Greater Boston water works, but it shows how you can find abandoned bits of history just about anywhere you look. And in a hundred years, the pump house might be gone, and the railroad tracks might have been torn up, but there will always be something else for curious Backsiders to tromp around and see.

Might We Recommend

2011-11-26T21:38:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

There are several great sites referenced in the right-hand column of this blog -- Backside's Beloved Blogs. While many of them don't change much, if at all, they all offer really cool photos and commentary of the lesser-seen parts of this great country (except for the few music- and general-interest blogs listed there). As for the ones that do update on a regular basis, I have to admit that I don't check them out often enough.

I've had Shaun O'Boyle's Portraits of Place site linked for quite some time, and have enjoyed looking through his numerous excellent galleries. Just recently, though, I decided to check out his affiliated blog. And boy, what a trip!

The majority of the pictures (as of this writing) are black and white. Most of the gorgeous shots fit into the Backside aesthetic, but even the ones that don't, such as the Appalachian Trail and Saratoga race track pictures, have that oh-so-pleasing historical feel.

I hope you like them as much as I do.

History Flows On, Part II

2011-11-20T16:18:00.006-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Recently, I posted about two old aqueducts in Newton, MA (see November 11, 2011, "History Flows On, Part I"). Now I present the second installment in a three-part series that gives a little insight into the history of Greater Boston's water works.

I knew little about Cutler Park before recently crashing through its woods in a light rain. I thought I'd spend about an hour there, see most of the park, including the tunnel under the commuter train tracks, then run a few errands and head home for a shower before picking up my daughter at preschool.

This place, it turns out, is massive and has quite a history.

Spanning the towns of Newton, Needham, Dedham and Brookline, and the West Roxbury neighborhood of Boston, Cutler Park is comprised of somewhere between 700 and 800 acres, and is the largest remaining fresh water marsh on the middle Charles River, according to the Newton Conservators web site.

The marshlands, according to the conservators, was created by flooding from the Newton Upper Falls Silk Dam, and were used for pasturelands for hundreds of years. In the late 1800s, the marshes were used as watershed well sites, which explains the remains of filtering ponds, ditches and waterworks.

As I've said in previous posts, I love stumbling upon this type of stuff in the woods, and realizing how much the landscape changes in a relatively short time. If I'd wandered these same acres perhaps half a century ago, I would've seen working pump houses and electrical wires strung along the ponds, and been able to do so without any of the noise that nearby Route 128 now provides.

A century ago, I would've seen train tracks that were used to transport soil taken from the west side of the pond to fill in the Back Bay section of Boston in the 19th century. According to Wikipedia, some of the old tracks are visible near the north entrance to the park, but I didn't notice them. I definitely plan on revisiting the park, so I'll look for the tracks.

Stay tuned for the third, and final, part in this series.

History Flows On, Part I

2011-11-11T15:48:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Honestly, I could keep this site going simply by posting about the out-of-the-way places I find in and around my adopted hometown of Newton, MA. But if I changed the blog's title to "The Backside of Newton," people might think I was consumed with Sir Isaac, or Juice or Fig.

So I'll keep things the way they are, but the content I post here is going to remain skewed toward Eastern Massachusetts, 'cause I don't get around much.

As with many things in Newton and surrounding towns that I've posted about before (see June 27, 2011, "War of the Worlds," and May 19, 2010, "Nuclear Dump Playground?"), the aqueducts that are the subject of today's piece are things I've driven past countless times and wondered about.

There are two of them: the Cochituate and the Sudbury. The Cochituate was built between 1846-48 and conveyed water from Natick's Lake Cochituate through several towns before reaching its final destination, Boston. The aqueduct was taken out of service in 1951, replaced by other systems.

The Sudbury was constructed between 1875-78 and brought water from Framingham to Boston. It, too, was taken out of service many years ago, replaced by three other delivery systems. However, in May 2010, the Sudbury was put into emergency use when the Weston Aqueduct suffered a major rupture. The Sudbury remains part of the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority's (MWRA) emergency backup service (thanks, Wikipedia!).

For that reason, I shouldn't have been surprised when two MWRA workers questioned why I was taking pictures of visible remnants of the aqueduct. I assured them I was only interested in the history of the water system. I told them I ran a web site featuring abandoned factories and old bridges, and that satisfied them enough to point out the Cochituate aqueduct, which at certain points in Newton runs adjacent to the Sudbury.

One of the things I love about living in and traveling around New England is that I'm surrounded by the past. Just off a main drag running north to south through Newton, you find this pleasant entrance to the Sudbury Aqueduct:

After disappearing underground for about half a mile, the aqueduct reappears in the spot where I encountered the MWRA workers. This picture was the one they seemed most concerned about.

Pop the lock off this old hatch and you'd be able to lower yourself into the aqueduct. Obviously, the MWRA is concerned about somebody accessing the water supply and poisoning it. I guess I have an honest face. Or perhaps they took down my license plate and are shadowing my every move.

As I said, they were nice enough to direct me across the street to the trail that follows the old Cochituate Aqueduct. I don't know for sure that the waterway was made from bricks, but I'm guessing it was based on this picture.

The trail continues on through some private property, and while I didn't go that far, I enjoyed this sign.

My final stop on the tour took me to an old gate house near the Mason-Rice Elementary School. The building is small but quite impressive, and you can hear the water rushing underneath.

A hop over a fence and a scramble down a small hill lands you at this grate, where you can actually see the water rushing by.

Stay tuned for the second and third parts in this series.

Goodwill and Good Luck on the Wrong Side of the Tracks

2011-11-05T13:23:00.002-04:00

From Joe Viger:

Duluth is a cool town. It sits on the shore of Lake Superior, the largest lake in the world. Gitche Gumee. This photo of Duluth screamed Backside to me. I’m not exactly sure why. So, even though I made the image several weeks ago, I still hadn’t posted anything to the blog.

I’m still not clear on why it’s an image from the Backside. I have my theories.

Maybe it’s a Backside image because train yards are rare today. We like days gone by. Maybe it’s because even before I hit town I had "The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald" buzzing in my head. A melancholy song about Lake Superior that evokes images we like here on the Backside… wrecked tools of industry and the stories of people who are part of real working America.

Maybe it’s because bustling downtown Duluth -- the beautiful Canal Park, convention center and the arena where the National Champion University of Minnesota Duluth hockey team faces off -- is barely a quarter mile from where I made this image. The train yard seemed a world apart from the Duluth most visitors experience. The side of a place most folks don’t see is classic Backside subject matter.

Quite likely the two messages in the image are meaningful… Goodwill and "Is this your lucky day?" Many photographs and stories that have appeared here on the Backside speak to hopes, dreams and luck… good and bad.

What do you think? Give me your sense of this picture as the Backside of America.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-30T21:20:00.003-04:00

Happy Halloween from the Backside Gang (Not Safe for Work)!:

Love Barn

2011-10-24T13:03:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I've driven west many times on Route 20 past signs for Sudbury's Wayside Inn, but had never actually driven down the side road that leads to the oldest inn operating in the U.S.

I drove past slowly the landmark, admiring the historic buildings and beautiful surroundings.

I figured I'd hit the end of the side road and turn around to get back on Route 20 and start heading home. And then I saw the grist mill. Built in 1929, the mill produces roughly five tons of flour per year, according to the inn's web site. It was used by Pepperidge Farm as a production facility from 1952 to 1967, and is the basis for the company's logo (but you already know that if you clicked the previous link).

But as often happens when I stop to take pictures, what seems to be the most interesting feature turns out to just be a gateway drug to something more fascinating.

I wandered away from the mill, down a path, and found this old barn.

From a distance, it seemed like your standard old New England barn, except that it's boarded up.

Closer examination, however, revealed quite a few scratched-in sentiments.

Seems this old barn is quite the romantic hot spot.

UPDATE: Facing Death

2011-10-20T12:50:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

As much as I love ruins, I am equally as excited when such sites get scrubbed clean and turned into useful properties again. Especially a place like the old Faces nightclub on Route 2 in Cambridge, MA (see November 24, 2010, "Facing Death").

As I reported 11 months ago, the site is no longer zoned for entertainment, but rather for office space, R&D and housing. The owners began cleaning the area up roughly two years ago, but not much of note happened until this week.

Quite a few folks, including Cambridge Mayor David Maher, turned out for the ceremonial toppling of the Faces sign, which for 20 years served as an ugly welcome to Cambridge for those arriving from the west. Not only did the heavy machinery tear the sign down, but it also chewed it up, as you can see in these pictures from Boston.com.

According to Boston.com, the property's new owner plans to demolish the nightclub in the next few weeks, and then begin construction of a 228-unit apartment building.

Stay tuned....

Troubled Bridges Over Water

2011-10-12T11:09:00.003-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

The single greatest achievement in my adopted hometown of Newton, MA, in the eight years I've lived here is the creation of a bike path along the Charles River. The section closest to my house was completed in 2004 and marked with the installation of a 140-foot suspension bridge named for the blue herons that live along the river. The path was built by the Department of Conservation and Recreation, based on a master plan developed in the early '90s.

Thanks to the hard work and determination of the DCR, it is now possible to walk, bike or run from Newton's Auburndale section, which abuts Route 128, to Boston's Museum of Science, a distance of nearly 20 miles. The DCR plans to extend the pathway south from Auburndale into neighboring Needham, Dedham and the West Roxbury neighborhood of Boston.

As you can imagine, abutters fought the project over the years, arguing that creation of the path would enable drug addicts and criminals easier access to homes and businesses (see this blog post and discussion).Many abutters thought they owned the land, because it had been unused or unclaimed by the state for so long.In most instances, however, the state owned the land close to the river. Reclaiming the land, clearing it out and providing access to the river was a major undertaking.

To make a long story short, the path is fantastic and people love it. I jog on it a few times a week and see a lot of fellow runners, along with walkers, cyclists, bird watchers, and people commuting to work on foot. And I see blue herons, geese, ducks and other small wildlife.

Yet, despite all the good generated by these paths -- great places to exercise free from car traffic, beautiful places to fish and observe nature, nice areas for dog walking -- there are people opposed to their expansion.

In one case in Newton, neighbors fought against the state when it announced plans to create a walking path over the Charles in the Lower Falls area of the city. The path, which is currently nearing completion, was built over a 100-year-old rail bridge that the DCR has owned since 1975. The path is a short one right now, connecting Washington Street in Wellesley to Concord Road in Newton, but the DCR is considering extending the path to the Riverside MBTA station, where trolleys and buses operate.

Here's what the bridge and path look like:

(Looking from the Newton side to a new development in Wellesley)

(Looking toward the Newton Lower Falls neighborhood)

(Looking toward the Newton Lower Falls neighborhood)

(The original train bridge abutment)

The path provides a nice connection from Concord Road to a commercial section of Wellesley where there are numerous restaurants and shops. It's a scenic little jaunt and one that I'm sure neighbors will enjoy making once the path is completed. Will there still be grumbling? Sure, but it's all gonna go into the wind.

Not too far away from the new Lower Falls path is the Riverside Park Pedestrian Bridge, which connects Newton's Auburndale section with the town of Weston. The bridge spans the Charles River, and has been closed for quite some time due to instability. There are plans in the works by the state Department of Transportation to rehabilitate the bridge and open it for foot traffic.

Once again, neighbors are taking part in public forums to express their reservations about reopening the bridge and opening up their neighborhood to unknown elements. Like the Lower Falls bridge, this one, too, will surely be completed and enjoyed thoroughly by people who just want to share in the river's beauty.

About a quarter of mile down river from the Riverside bridge I found this old crossing.

Located next to the Lasell College boat house, this bridge dead-ends near a site that I believe is a staging area for the state's Department of Transportation construction projects on nearby Route 128. I have no idea whether this bridge will be opened at the other end at some point, but as far as I'm concerned, in case it wasn't obvious enough already, I believe that the more ways to access a river, the better.

(For more on Charles River crossings, see May 12, 2010, "Dead-End Tracks, Part I.")

Parking Lot Limbo

2011-10-02T09:44:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Life is full of so many little mysteries, many of which can be solved with a little Internet searching. Some head-scratchers, however, I prefer not to reason out. It's more fun to speculate.

For many months, or perhaps as long as a year, I've jogged and driven past this car.

It's a Cadillac; I believe it's a Fleetwood. Late '80s/early '90s.

It's located in the parking lot of Queen Screw & Manufacturing, a small factory situated in a small but relatively busy industrial area just over the Newton line in Waltham, MA. For quite some time, I figured some joker had splashed paint on the car and that whoever owned the Caddy didn't have enough money to get it repainted. Maybe they'd grown to like the distinctive mark the paint made.

But on a few early morning jogs, I saw the car alone in the lot, long before anyone was working in the factory. And I stopped long enough to realize that the paint that had been splashed on the car had dripped to the ground and the car had evidently never been moved since that time.

So I figured perhaps the car's owner had died, and the Caddy had been left there in honor of him (or her). But who splashed it with paint, and why? And when? Was the car sitting there for a long time before someone doused it? Or did the owner abandon it once the paint hit the door (and some of the hood, which I didn't realize until I finally busted out my camera)?

Why is this car taking up valuable space in the company's small parking lot? Why hasn't it been defaced more than it is? That white canvas seems to be just calling out for graffiti, doesn't it?

The car has no plates on it, so evidently it's unregistered. I suspect one day I'll go by this lot and the car will be gone. Taken out of limbo by mysterious hands.

Carnival of Sorts (Box Cars)

2011-09-26T09:51:00.004-04:00

From Mick Melvin:

I arrived at work in Hartford early one morning to find a Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey circus train parked on the tracks across the street from my job. I'm used to seeing freight trains, commuter trains and even Amtrak service pick-up trucks occupying the tracks. It was a delight to see the circus train stretched along the tracks. My eye was drawn to the American flag flying and the satellite disk attached to one of the cars. It made me wonder about the train and its passengers.

Ringling Bros. has two circus trains, the Blue Tour and the Red Tour. They alternate touring major U.S. cities on a two-year rotation. Each unit performs a different edition of the show. Both trains are one-mile long, with 55 cars for the Red Tour and 56 for the Blue Tour. There are four animal stock cars, two container flats for concession storage and 17 piggyback flats for equipment, props and vehicles.

Thirty-three cars are used by the staff, maintenance crew, performers and their families. Approximately 325 people ride the train on the tour.

These passengers must see some beautiful sights while traveling the railways of America. The only view they had while parked in Hartford was the front of my office building, a few auto repair shops and the back of a factory. I am glad it was parked there because I got to see one of the trains that brings joy to so many people in our country.

(I stole the title for this post from an R.E.M. song. In light of the band's announcement last week that it has broken up, I figured I'd bend the format here a little bit and toss in a tribute to a band that I loved completely during the '80s -- ed.)

In Search of President Little

2011-09-20T22:13:00.003-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

This post means more to me than anything else I've written here. But with a bit of effort, I'll be posting at least one update, and perhaps turning this story into something more substantive for another outlet.

In my inaugural post for this blog, I talked about how a canoe trip down the Farmington River in my hometown, Simsbury, CT, with my dad when I was a kid inspired my fascination with the backside of America (see March 1, 2010, "Take Me To the River."). But that wasn't the only event from my childhood that sparked my curiosity about what goes on behind the calm facades of Main Street, and in the cracks of society where people don't often look.

When we were teens, my friend Pat and I walked from his house about half a mile down the road, along a set of railroad tracks, down a slope, into a small, wooded section of our hometown and into the back yard of an abandoned house. Two neighborhood kids had told us about the house, so we checked it out. We walked through the open front door and into a house filled with all the stuff of life: cans of food, pots and pans, dishes, bottles and cans, framed photos, clothing, books and magazines, furniture and, most oddly of all, a mannequin.

We walked around for a while, marveling at the fact that somebody had left all of their stuff behind. I suppose we visited the house one or two more times, but honestly, I can't recall. I don't remember paying much attention to the house afterward, even though we used to walk down the railroad tracks to Louie's Market to buy soda and Slim Jims, and to the Country Store to buy penny candy. We also used to pick up beer bottles from the slopes lining the tracks, and line them up on the tracks and smash them with rocks, and scamper through a tunnel under the tracks that connected Boot Pond (where we played hockey in the winter) with the swamp on the other side.

While I certainly found it odd that somebody had left behind all their belongings, and that nobody appeared to want them, I didn't think too deeply about the situation until after college. By then, the house was long gone, having been torn down to make way for a road into a new housing development.

From time to time, I thought about the abandoned house. I tried to work the mystery into a short story on at least one occasion. Last year I posted on a Facebook group dedicated to my hometown, wondering whether anybody remembered the abandoned house and if anybody knew anything about the situation. Nobody did.

Then, last month, a new Facebook page popped up that was more informal than the first one to which I'd posted. I asked the question again, and this time, two people responded that they not only remembered the house, but that they'd spent some time as teens hanging out with the man who lived there.

They told me that the man, President Little, said he was the son of slaves, and that he had no family to leave anything to when he died. This was why, one of the responders told me, the house was full of stuff when President passed away.

Through a quick bit of research online, I found some genealogical information about President. Turns out he wasn't the son of slaves, but it's quite possible that he was the grandson of slaves. He was born in Americus, GA, in 1904, to parents who were born in the 1880's. He also had five children, four of whom were evidently alive when President died in 1981. So perhaps he was estranged from his family, and that's why when he died, all of his stuff stayed in the house.

As it turns out, shortly after I learned who President Little was, I had a trip scheduled to Simsbury to play in a golf tournament. I decided to make a side trip to see if there was any evidence of President's house on the spot where it once stood.

I found much more than I could ever have hoped for.

I doubt many people venture into the little patch of woods that's left between the driveway to the housing development to the south, the bike path to the west (where the railroad tracks once stood) and the main road, Route 10, to the east. I couldn't find an easy path into the woods, so I created my own, and within five minutes, had found what I was looking for.

I was beside myself with excitement. The house had been torn down years ago; I had no reason to expect that anything would be on the site. I'm not a spiritual guy whatsoever, but I feel like something drew me here to discover the remnants of a forgotten place.

I've sent emails to both the Simsbury Historical Society and the person from whose web site I gleaned the genealogical information, to see if they can provide more information about President Little, his family, his life, his work, etc. If I can put together enough of a picture, I hope to publish an article in a history, genealogy, archeology or some other type of magazine.

For the record, much of this information (and some different photos) first appeared last month on my blog, DaveTronik 2000. See August 24, 2011, "My Nascent Archeology Career."

Dis-Connector

2011-09-14T11:36:00.002-04:00

From lostlosangeles:

This is a barricade signifying one end of the unfinished I-89 southern connector in Burlington, Vermont. Since its initial planning stage in 1965, the project has experienced one delay after another with constant route and design changes. Many local residents expressed concern that the neighborhood would be destroyed. There have even been issues with nearby toxic conditions. After almost 40 years, the project remains incomplete with this connector to nowhere as its symbol. This debacle has even inspired an installation, The World's Tallest Filing Cabinet, symbolizing all of the wasted time and paperwork...

(For similar posts, see March 7, 2011, "Graffiti Highway" and June 30, 2011, "Ghost Highway," both about the same tangle of never-used highway connectors outside Hartford, CT.)

Bridge of Refuge

2011-09-09T09:01:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Every once in a while I drive west into what passes for "country" in the Greater Boston area. On a recent jaunt while my kids were at camp, I crossed this one-lane bridge on Pelham Island Road in Wayland, MA. The road sits in the middle of the Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge.

The bridge itself isn't all that noteworthy, and in fact it is slated for replacement by the Mass. Department of Transportation. Still, I like what the bridge represents, which is a method of slowing folks down before they pass through the wildlife refuge. I'm sure the trolls underneath appreciate that, especially given all the clanky metal that cars have to drive over.

I hope the view of the new bridge remains just as nice as the one of the current one from the banks of the Sudbury River.

Sunset On the Sunrise

2011-09-04T20:02:00.001-04:00

From Mick Melvin:

I like "finding" my backside subjects, but sometimes they are placed in my lap. A recent front page story in the Hartford Courant described an abandoned resort in Moodus, CT. I instantly had my subject. The article, along with a few pictures, gave me a good indication of what the place was like both in its heyday and what it has come to be today. When I arrived at Sunrise Resort, it was what I expected.

The resort is next to Machimoodus State Park, which has trails and a nice pond. It was pretty eerie walking the grounds of Sunrise. Once a vacation destination, it's like a ghost town. Most of the outside property, including a basketball court, shuffle board court, miniature golf course, playground set and kiddie swimming pool, are overgrown with high grass and weeds. The small amount of buildings, a few cabins and hotel/motel-like dwellings, were looking worn and unkempt.

The weathered resort was sold to the state of Connecticut for approximately $3 million in 2008. The property had been in decline and with the diminishing demand for summer resorts and the decline in the economy, the owners sold the resort. They hoped the state could utilize the land instead of selling to developers. Since the sale, little has been done with the property. The Department of Energy and Environmental Protection (DEEP) has used some of the garages for storage. Mostly local residents who walk their pets or take walks and hikes utilize the resort area.

It's a real shame to see this once-thriving resort in such a sad state. While researching the resort, I came upon a web site with people describing their times at the vacation spot. People talked of wonderful experiences of family fun. It reminded me of a place you went to in the summer and made lifetime friends.

Let's hope someone comes up with something for the site to generate more enjoyable memories. The latest possibilities for the site are a soccer camp or a cooking camp. I'll keep you posted.

Sugar and Stone

2011-08-30T22:22:00.001-04:00

From Heidi Waugaman-Page:

This sugar house is located on Route 9 in Antrim, NH. It doesn't have much life left after all the snow we got last winter. One day my husband, Brad, and I just drove around and took pictures of cool things we came across. He wanted me to take a picture of this place because he wants to maybe use it someday for a blues CD cover.

The sugar house is just down the road from a cool double stone bridge, one of five in the town.

Goodbye Reef, So Long Bill

2011-08-25T08:44:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Just a few years ago, this little strip was home to a dive bar called The Reef, as well as a chiropractor's office and some other small business. I went to this corner of Waltham, MA, near city hall, to take pictures of a different old building near the commuter train tracks that is likely to be torn down soon and replaced with housing. I didn't find that building all that interesting, however.

As I walked by this old brick building, it spoke to me. Although I drive and jog by this place regularly, I'd never been this close to it before (except when I parked nearby last winter when taking the picture for my January 7, 2011, post, "Trash Guitar").

I love the simplicity of the bar's entrance. I picture lots of skinny, old guys wearing tank tops and smoking in and around the door. I hear old country music leaking out the grimy windows. I smell pickled eggs on the bar.

I got closer to the door and saw a dried rose hanging there, with a note attached, reading,

"Bill,
Still missing you.
Love,
Your wife & Michael"

My first thought was that it was a tongue-in-cheek message to some guy who used to spend too much time at The Reef. But then the thought occurred to me that perhaps Bill had died and this note might actually be truly heartbreaking. Either way, I was amazed to find it there, and touched by its simplicity and grace.

Massachusetts Tableaux

2011-08-21T08:39:00.001-04:00

From Michael Cevoli:

(Factory, North Attleboro)

(Factory, North Attleboro)

(Garage, Wrentham)

(Garage, Wrentham)

(House, Wrentham)

(Bucket of nails, Norfolk)

(Factory stairwell, Franklin)

(Power lines, Norfolk)

A Room With a Shower and a Movie, Too

2011-08-15T14:01:00.003-04:00

From Joe Viger:

A few weeks ago I went to see the great Texas singer/songwriter Joe Ely. You know how it is...I overloaded on Ely’s music before and after the concert. Ironically, he didn't even play this song, but there’s a lyric from “Me and Billy the Kid” that’s been going through my mind ever since. It’s a story about two men vying for the same woman.

The narrator sets up Billy in a bogus heist and gets the girl. The last verse goes like this:

"Now my baby sings harmony with me, to 'La Cucaracha'
She winds her silver pocket watch and pets her new Chihuahua
I moved into the hotel, I got a room with a shower
We lay an' listen to that watch tick hour after hour"

That line about a room with a shower really struck me. He sings it like it’s as good as getting the girl. Our level of expectation has definitely risen. We don't want a room with a shower. We want two or three full baths in our 2,500 square-foot house.

When I travel for business, I’m annoyed if there isn’t a flat-panel television, let alone a room with a shower. Not long after this show, I went on a field trip with my son to a village of 1800’s homes and businesses. In the doctor’s house, ostensibly the best in the village, I noticed all the open copper piping in the kitchen and the big hot water tank in the corner and thought that would never do today. Things like that need to be finished and hidden even though there really was nothing unattractive or dangerous about the piping.

It seems nothing can be simple anymore. And that means nothing can be cheap any more either. Consumption and expense has been driven into everything we do.

And that brings me to the Playhouse Theater. I had the great luck to photograph this old theater, where a movie hasn’t been shown in 30 years. I’m sure it was a treasure to the little village of Kezar Falls, Maine, in its heyday. Not because of its architecture, but because it brought the community together and brought the world to this little Maine town through motion pictures.

This place is great and I wish its new owner, Silas Haggerty of Smooth Feather Productions, the best of luck in creating a new studio there. He's bringing this example of the backside to the frontside again.

I spent almost four hours in the theater one evening recently thanks to Haggerty's generosity. I was by myself and soaked the place up, making hundreds of images. The simplicity and utility of the theater was particularly interesting from the unassuming exterior covered in asphalt siding, to the simple wooden bench seats in the balcony. It was wonderful like a room with a shower. Compare this to your local multiplex, stadium seating, $14-a-head movie house.

I love how the Office of Insurance Commissioner has been X'd out and retitled as Department of Public Safety.

That small box of rods on the left, are essentially welding rods. They are the source of the light in the theater's projectors. They create so much heat, they're vented outside like a woodstove.

Rebuilding the Lost City: UPDATE

2011-08-10T09:16:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

The most seriously blighted property I've written about is finally being demolished. For 70 years, the Haartz Mason factory in Watertown, MA, made roofing and auto-top fabrics, before closing in 1993. For the last 18 years, the site has been a haven for vandals, graffiti artists and homeless people.

I posted pictures of the site last summer (see July 5, 2010, "Rebuilding the Lost City") and speculated that a future developer would include retail space on the property. According to the Watertown Tab, Criterion Development Partners plans two apartment buildings on the lot, along with retail space and a parking garage.

I often jog on the bike path directly behind the property, and have long been fascinated by the state of ruin at this old factory. Now, with the demolition in full swing, I'm equally fascinated by the amount of graffiti on display inside the buildings. I'm sure the demolition and clean up will go on for quite some time, given that Haartz Mason made coated fabrics, which I suspect means loads and loads of chemicals in the soil.

I'll post more updates as this new project gets under way. I'm excited that this blighted stretch of Pleasant Street will soon have new, vibrant life.

(The one site that may be more blighted and polluted than this one is the former Watertown Arsenal munitions burning facility. The extent of the mess at that site is difficult to gauge from the road. See May 19, 2010, "Nuclear Dump Playground?")

Water Damage

2011-08-05T09:40:00.004-04:00

From Lostlosangeles:

(I'm pleased to introduce a new member of the Backside Gang. He goes by the name "lostlosangeles," and he takes great shots of cool places -- d. brigham.)

This water tank is located in a small room off a stairwell at the abandoned Dixie Brewing Company in New Orleans. As I was climbing to the roof, I noticed the strange textures in the paint. It was like a unique form of decay that I had never discovered before and so I had to stop and shoot it.

The Dixie Brewery was shut down as a result of Hurricane Katrina when it was submerged under 8 - 10 feet of water. 10,000 cases of beer were destroyed. Although the owners had planned to restore the facility, it continues to sit empty.

For more of lostlosangeles's work, check out this Fluster magazine feature.

Life On the Tracks

2011-08-01T12:42:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

For the past four years, I've ridden the Cape Cod Central Railroad with my son, Owen, in July during our family vacation. Owen is a subway kid at heart, but he still enjoys riding the passenger cars on the two-hour round trip from Hyannis to Sandwich.

During the narrated trip, passengers learn about how train service used to split off at the Yarmouth Wye (former location of the Yarmouth station) and head east to Provincetown; about how Sandwich is the oldest town on the Cape and home to a glass museum and an extensive boardwalk that was rebuilt after Hurricane Bob in 1991; and all sorts of things about the Cape Cod Canal, such as the fact that it's the widest man-made canal in the world.

The ride is relaxing, even in the non-air conditioned car we rode in this year. You can bring your lunch and buy beer and wine. It's a bit pricey, but worth it.

I don't pay much attention to the narration any more. I prefer to snap pictures out the windows. Many of my shots were blurry or didn't quite capture the scene I was trying to get. But sometimes, as you'll see below, I get a little lucky.

(Trains used for parts)

(Barn)

(I didn't see the car when I stuck the camera out the window, so I was pleasantly surprised to see it when I downloaded pics to my laptop)

(Cranberry bog)

(Crossing Signal)

(Power lines along the canal)

Look, Up On the Restaurant....

2011-07-27T09:16:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I'd taken a handful of rides on the Blue Line of Boston's subway system with my son before I noticed this place. Situated directly across the street from the Suffolk Downs stop on Bennington Street in East Boston, the restaurant is closed, but it appears to have changed hands a few times in recent years, so perhaps it will reopen.

Judging from a handful of Yelp reviews I read, I get the feeling this place used to be quite the hopping karaoke dive bar/Italian restaurant before turning into an Italian/Columbian hybrid.

Here's hoping somebody kick starts it again. Obviously the building needs some work on the outside, and on the inside as well, I'm sure. Just don't touch that airplane!

This Old, Decrepit House Update #2

2011-07-23T09:48:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Having torn down the place that I dubbed the Scooby-Doo House last summer, the new owners of the property in Watertown, MA, are making good progress on its faithful replacement (see August 3, 2010, "This Old, Decrepit House Update").

The house was torn down after the owners determined that they couldn't save what had once been a grand home (see July 25, 2010, "This Old, Decrepit House"). The owners promised to build something in the same style, and they are following through, which is good to see.

Here's what it looked like before the wrecking ball swung:

And here's the new place:

Sweating it out in Slab City

2011-07-19T10:42:00.004-04:00

From Joe Viger:

Just outside Niland, California, and adjacent to Salvation Mountain, you'll find Slab City. The name derives from the concrete foundation slabs left behind when the government tore down what was once a World War II Marine barracks called Camp Dunlap. It apparently was the training ground for Patton's armored assault on Northern Africa. Before long, squatters began camping there and the city was born.

Today there are about 150 year-round residents and scores of snowbirds that enjoy no electricity, no running water and the desert heat of the "last free place" that is Slab City. Truly on the Backside.

The RV in the background was blasting "The Wizard" from Black Sabbath's first album and it somehow seemed the perfect soundtrack.

This is The Range. One of three bars in Slab City and a primary location for a Shooter Jennings video you all should watch. Slab City was also featured in the movie Into the Wild.

Literate Trolls

2011-07-08T14:24:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I'm heading to Cape Cod from July 9-16, so it'll be quiet around here for 10 days or so. In the meantime, there's plenty of stuff to look at from the last 16 months. Below is a picture I snapped during a recent weekend visit to the Cape.

(Drawbridge, Woods Hole, MA)

This Ain't No Mudd Club

2011-07-01T10:25:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Thanks to my buddy Jay Kumar for pointing me toward this photo exhibit by Blondie guitarist Chris Stein of New York City's infamous, but unfortunately now-defunct, punk rock club CBGB's.

I never made it to CBGB's. I walked past the club several years ago, before it was turned into a John Varvatos shoe store, but it was the middle of the day and although I was well aware of what I was walking past, I didn't take much note of it.

Despite that, as far as I'm concerned, CBGB's should have been placed on the National Register of Historic Places, because it holds a unique place in this nation. For those of you who aren't aware, the club opened in December 1973, with the goal of featuring "country, bluegrass and blues" (hence the name of the club). Rather than becoming a showcase venue for those types of music, however, the club was the place where punk bands such as The Ramones, Patti Smith, Blondie, Talking Heads and Television got their starts. Smith, in fact, closed out the club on October 16, 2006.

I could go on and on about punk rock and how much I love it, but I won't. Just check out these pics and if you don't know much about the above-mentioned bands, check out the videos below:

War of the Worlds

2011-06-27T18:59:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

In Orson Welles' 1938 radio broadcast of "War of the Worlds," Martians land in Grover's Mill, NJ, and began killing folks. Because some people in the sleepy burg weren't aware that the broadcast was a radio play, they shot up a water tower that they mistook for one of the massive invaders.

As I stood under this tower, located near the grounds of Golda Meir House, a senior Jewish community in Newton, MA, I could understand their fear. Looming above an apartment complex, trolley station and country club, the tower is quite imposing.

The tower is owned by the city. It's unclear if it's still in use.

The Gut

2011-06-23T07:39:00.002-04:00

From Mick Melvin:

I was driving in my adopted hometown of Downingtown, PA, (I was born in New Jersey) and thought I would drive past my old house. As most of you know by now, I love nostalgia. Downingtown is an old paper mill town along the Brandywine River, which was the site of many battles in the Revolutionary War. The town is a mixture of 18th century stone homes and new mega-houses.

On the way to my destination, I saw this old rundown house with the words "No Trespassing" spray painted on the front.

I remember driving by this house a million times. It has steadily declined over the years. The house is right next to the former home of the Anderson family, which are still friends of my family to this day. These houses are located in a section of town known as "the Gut."

The Gut was a small stretch of road with about 10 or so homes. Most of the families who lived in the Gut were African American. Many of the homes were in decline, which is probably the reason it was called the Gut.

The houses up the hill from the Gut were more modern and up to date homes; we lived "up the hill." When coming from Downingtown, we had to drive up the hill and through the Gut to get to our house. I remember my father telling me that the real estate agent didn't want to take him that route for fear of seeing that section of town. It ends up that it was one of the major selling points for my parents.

As it turns out, the families we met in the Gut will be friends of ours for life. The Boggs, Smith, Simpson, Walls and the Anderson families to name a few. My family always lived in the white neighborhoods (up the hill), but our parents made sure we lived close to other African Americans so we would understand and appreciate our culture. I basically lived in two worlds growing up, the white and the black. As a result, I have friends and acquaintances from many cultures in Downingtown.

I'm so glad my parents picked that location, because it exposed me to those cultures. Seeing that house reminds me of a time when I was trying to figure "it" all out. It comes down to the fact that we are all connected no matter the color of our skin. Taking pictures in my old stomping grounds brought back memories of a childhood with many good friends and a lot of lessons learned. If any of those families get to read this, I'd like to say thank you for all the love and the life lessons I gained because I lived up the hill from the Gut.

Play Ball?

2011-06-18T11:31:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I love baseball. Always have, always will. I'm a lifelong Red Sox fan; I played Little League, Babe Ruth, and, when I turned 40, old-guy baseball. I coached my son's first Little League team last year, and go to every one of his games now to cheer him on and encourage him and his teammates.

So one recent day as I was driving past Officer Bobby Braceland Playground in my adopted hometown of Newton, MA, I turned in to the parking lot to see what was beyond the nicely groomed baseball diamond I could see. I knew, from an earlier exploratory drive on the opposite side of the Charles River, in Needham, that there was something down the slope from the baseball field.

The first thing I saw was this frame for a batting cage.

Little League is a pretty big deal in most corners of Newton, so I was surprised to see the condition of this cage. I thought at first that perhaps it just needed a little TLC and that it would be up before too long, witness to the sweet crack of wooden bats. But then I saw the netting, and realized nobody had taken any cuts here in quite some time, and likely wouldn't in the foreseeable future.

And judging by the nearby snack shack, nobody was grabbing a mid-game cheeseburger, Slushie or pack of sunflower seeds either.

I walked down the slope, past the sad batting cage, and toward the field at the bottom of the hill. There, I found a diamond that looked more like an emerald: all green. No more dirt.

Heck, even the lone baseball I found had seen better days.

I wandered along the fence that separated the field from the Charles River, wondering how many times kids had to scramble over to fetch foul balls or home runs or ground-rule doubles. I almost ran into something jutting out of a bush. Took me a minute to recognize the elements of a bench upon which proud parents had once watched games.

I was a little bummed. My mood wasn't helped by my conversation with a woman who was letting her dogs run through the outfield. "What are you taking pictures of?" she asked. "I like to take pictures of places that have been forgotten, like old buildings or baseball fields," I answered. Not my best answer.

"Oh...OK," she answered with a smirk.

"That's my thing," I answered flatly.

Still, I didn't leave feeling completely bummed about the fact that this field had evidently been turned into a dog park.

Because love was in the air.

Graffiti Train

2011-06-14T09:06:00.002-04:00

Dave Brigham:

Trains have become a big part of my life in recent years. My son, who just turned 9, has loved subway trains for a few years now. Of late, he's started getting into commuter rail trains and Amtrak trains. The two of us have taken countless trips on Boston's MBTA system, photos from which I've posted in these pages (see August 30, 2010 "Going Underground" and November 4, 2010 "Can You Ever Get Enough of Train Tracks?").

I love our journeys, because I get to see parts of the Greater Boston area you can't see from side roads and highways. A jaunt through the tunnels of the Green Line is a trip back in time. You travel through tunnels that are more than 100 years old, and see evidence of tracks that have been discontinued, and trains that no longer work. The Red Line parallels Route 93 South out of Boston, offering views of the Backside of Dorchester. Take the Orange Line north out of Boston and you get to see the underside of an assortment of highways and ramps, and get close up to the Boston Sand & Gravel company, and the various freight and commuter tracks that abound.

Recently, after a trip to the fabulous Ward Maps store in Cambridge, where I bought some nice MBTA-themed birthday gifts for my son, I had a bit of time on my hands before picking up my daughter from preschool. So I decided to venture across Cambridge to seek out some spots to take pictures in neighboring Somerville.

I spent a few years living in the one-time auto theft capital of America, and had cruised around aimlessly many years ago. I headed to the Inner Belt area, where I knew there were a bunch of warehouses, auto body shops, factories and train tracks (I learned while writing this piece, that the area is named for a planned six-lane, limited-access highway that would have run through parts of Somerville, Boston, Cambridge and Brookline, but that was shot down in the early '70s after protests by neighbors and then-Gov. Francis Sargent's moratorium on highway construction inside Route 128.).

I found some interesting sites in the Inner Belt, but nothing that really grabbed my eye. So I drove on. Soon, I found myself on New Washington Street. Just after passing a Brazilian restaurant called Cafe Belo, I spied a few box cars by the side of the road.

I found it odd that they were just sitting there, in plain sight, covered in rust and graffiti.

As I walked around snapping pictures, I realized that these old cars were functioning as an outdoor office or rest area of sorts.

Because these box cars are so close to the road, and in an exposed area near the above-mentioned restaurant and a recently opened dog park, I doubt they're providing shelter for homeless people. It's more likely that the trash I saw was put there by workers from the MBTA, which owns the cars. I conducted a Google map search of New Washington Street, and when I clicked on "street view," saw two different cars in the same spot where I took these pictures. So obviously the MBTA moves cars around and uses this area as a holding spot.

I suspect next time I swing by, I'll find two different photo subjects.

Roadside Attractions?

2011-06-10T07:43:00.001-04:00

From Kristen Smith:

Maybe you haven’t noticed them, but they’re there, peering out as you whiz by. Once you pick up on them though, they seem to come out from the shadows to haunt you. Mysterious. Odd. Mournful. Ramshackle. Puzzling. Even whimsical. Yeah, I’m talking about those weird little shacks on the side of the road that make you go “hmmmm.” At least that’s what they do to me.

This one (somewhere in Vermont), for example, had a sink in that little turret part and a bed and armchair in the main section. Even a tiny breezeway with cabinets on the wall. All decrepit now and totally falling apart, but just look at it. So cool.

For years I’ve been photographing them. They fascinate me. Strange structures now falling into disuse and decay. Who built them? Why? When? Sometimes it’s obvious, like this old greenhouse in Plymouth NH. Someone put a lot of love and attention into it once. It had lots of shelves and plenty of work-space, hooks overhead, nice windows and even electricity.

Sometimes, well, less obvious is a kind phrase. Most of the time I have no idea what the heck I’m looking at. A kid’s playhouse? A little shack to protect a well or some machinery like a pump? Tool shed? Take this example: the door isn’t full sized, but the window is. It’s next to a pond right by the side of the road.

No idea. I love the four-sided roof, though. Wintertime is the best season for spotting them, for obvious reasons. Sometimes you can see one well back from the road that isn’t ordinarily visible. Those are tougher to photograph in winter, but more interesting to explore once the snow melts. I’ll stop and check them out even while on vacation, like this amazing house in rural Montana. The lure of The Backside is ever-present.

Stonewalling

2011-06-06T12:36:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I live in Newton, Mass., which despite its proximity to Boston, manages to squeeze in some nice little nature outposts. Still, while wandering through the woods, I'm always aware of how close to civilization I am. I can hear airplanes, busy roads, lawn care guys, dogs barking, you name it. But it's nice to get in among the trees and bugs and birds even for a little while.

Recently, I ventured into Kennard Park, which, according to its web site, "is a post-agricultural forest grown up on 19th century farmland." As such, the park contains some nice stone walls.

Nevertheless, there are plenty of signs of current-day civilization. I'm guessing somebody left this behind while collecting berries.

And once you venture out to the park's perimeter, you find a few entrances that butt up right against pleasant neighborhoods.

Nonetheless, it was a nice walk.

It's Unofficially Summer!

2011-05-30T15:15:00.002-04:00

Happy Memorial Day from the Backside Gang:

(Photo by David Burke, Portland, CT, late '90s)

Junkyard Blues

2011-05-29T07:34:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Today is the Indy 500. I'm not a racing fan, but I did take a spin around the famed Indianapolis track in a bus back in 1988. We don't have any stock car photos or anything related to the big event here at the Backside. But I did stumble across this video of various junkyard shots, accompanied by a really nice backwoods country music soundtrack by Jerry Reed.

Call it an ironic tribute to the Indy 500, but it's a tribute nonetheless.

The Salton Sea

2011-05-24T09:54:00.001-04:00

From Joe Viger:

California's largest lake is surrounded by desert in the Imperial Valley. The Salton Sea is also one of the largest inland seas in the world, covering about 375 square miles, and one of the lowest points on earth at 227 feet below sea level. It was formed by accident from 1905 to 1907 when the Colorado River burst at its seams and flooded the low-lying plain. The Sea has virtually no outlflow and is fed by rivers that wind through the farming communities of the valley. The result was in the 1970's the water developed a remarkably high saline content, approaching 4.4%. The only fish that can thrive in that environment are tilapia. Dried salt covers the shoreline and everything near. Floods are common.

Red Hill, CA

The Salton Sea has been a story of boom to bust that directly parallels the story of the environment here. Just 40 miles south of Palm Springs, it became known as the Salton Rivera and was a playground for celebrities. Jerry Lewis and the Marx brothers were regulars in the 1950's and '60's. Yacht clubs, beaches and vacation homes were developed. Sonny Bono learned to waterski here and National Wildlife Refuge properties on the lake bear his name.

Today, things are a little different. The communities around the Salton Sea are littered with abandoned buildings. Some have been flooded and all show the amazing effects of water, salt, neglect and time.

The Salton Sea is truly one of the strangest places I have ever been. The water is a color difficult to compare to anything else. The salt fringed shore gives things an otherworldly look. People continue to live there. It is common to see a well-kept trailer with a car and a dune buggy in the drive circled in chain link fence and all the neighboring properties are abandoned, torn apart and covered in graffiti.

There is hope to redevelop the area. Recently an abandoned yacht club was converted to a museum and community center. Plans costing millions and millions and millions have been presented to try to remediate the water problems of the Sea. We'll have to wait and see if boom to bust turns back to a new golden age for the French Rivera of California.

Bombay Beach, CA

Bombay Beach, CA

Bombay Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Salton Sea Beach, CA

Read more here and here. The trailer below is narrated by John Waters and offers some insight into what locals think about the Salton Sea.

Weare Is the Owner?

2011-05-20T09:54:00.002-04:00

From Heidi Waugaman-Page:

I took these pictures during an excursion to Weare, NH. These images are of an old garage and house across the street that have had no activity since I moved to Deering eight years ago. I always love stopping by and just looking in the windows at all the cars that someone apparently loved a long time ago. Now the place is falling apart more each year and it’s a shame that the autos are, too.

Backside TV

2011-05-16T10:24:00.000-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

A few years ago, I watched several episodes of The History Channel's "Cities of the Underworld." Over the course of three seasons, the show's hosts, Eric Geller for half of season one, and Don Wildman (can that possibly be his real name?) for the remainder of the run, visited Hitler's underground lair, Paris's catacombs of death, secret Soviet bases, Egypt's Tomb of the Lost Mummies, Alcatraz Down Under and numerous other subterranean places.

Wildman's hosting style was a bit melodramatic, but the locations he visited were fascinating. Tonight, Wildman debuts a new show, "Off Limits," on Travel Channel (9:00 ET). In the show, Wildman visits U.S. locations including: Los Angeles, where he "penetrates a former Nazi military compound, uncovers clandestine oil rigs in seemingly normal neighborhoods, and kayaks down the LA River," according to the show's web site; San Francisco, in which he "checks into the abandoned Oak Knoll Naval Hospital, once occupied by Scientology creator and patient L. Ron Hubbard;" and Seattle, which he views from the outer rim of the Space Needle.

Check out a sneak peek here.

No Diving

2011-05-13T16:14:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

After spending $200 million to build a state-of-the-art high school for kids on the north side of the city, my adopted hometown of Newton, MA, needed to knock down the school's 37-year-old predecessor. Yes, the old Newton North High School was built in 1973 and already it's (almost) history. And, yes, the new building cost more than any other high school ever in the long and distinguished history of Massachusetts.

My wife (NNHS Class of '85) regularly goes past the high school on her morning runs. She clued me in recently that, after a long delay due in part to the need to remove asbestos, the old school was coming down. So I drove by and snapped a few quick picks of the old pool, which in its heyday was located inside the school.

Now, instead of being filled with alluring blue water, it's been defiled by rain water and old bricks that used to protect swimmers and their fans.

I wish I could have gotten closer. Didn't have my zoom lens, unfortunately.

Store 13

2011-05-08T19:10:00.001-04:00

From Joe Viger:

Shades drawn and warped. Paint peeled and cracked. A private drive secured by Honeywell. A brick foundation on bad luck at Store 13 is a one way ticket to the Backside of America. No chew today.

Bartlett, NH

UPDATE: Delivery Time

2011-05-07T09:25:00.004-04:00

Thanks to Backside fan "JBT," we learned a little more about the old milk truck that Mick Melvin posted about earlier this week (see May 3, 2011, "Delivery Time.")

JBT commented: "They sell AC Petersen Farm's Ice Cream in the Ice Cream parlor there. Evidently the owners saw this old truck rusting away at the old ACP Farm in Bloomfield so they bought it to display it in the lot of the mini golf venue."

Thanks JBT!

Delivery Time

2011-05-03T08:36:00.002-04:00

From Mick Melvin:

My wife suggested I go take some pictures of an old milk truck she spied in Farmington, CT. We took the trip down Route 4 to Farmington Miniature Golf and Ice Cream Parlor. I played miniature golf with my wife and niece about two years earlier and didn't even notice the truck. I don't know how I could have missed the bright orange truck parked outside of the parlor, but I did miss it. The truck is evidently decorated during various holidays. When we first saw it, it had a lighted shamrock sign attached to the side.

I'm glad she suggested going to this spot. I was instantly transported to an earlier time. I actually remember milk being delivered to my house in Pennsylvania from the Becthel's Dairy. I still remember anticipating delivery day. I loved going out to the porch and retrieving the glass bottles from the box when it was my turn.

The orange A.C. Petersen milk truck is definitely more colorful than the plain white Becthel's milk truck, but I'm sure if I ever see a Becthel's truck, I will have the same nostalgic feeling. I have no idea how long this orange truck has been parked in front of the ice cream parlor, but I do know that as long as it's parked there, it will bring many of us back to what seemed to be a simpler time.

Raison d'Etre

2011-04-28T10:24:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

In Joe Viger’s excellent post from earlier this week (see 4-24-11, “Five Gallons at a Time”), he mentions that a friend who is a fan of The Backside of America recently asked him, “But do you ever feel like it’s a bunch of rich folks gawking at the poor, decrepit parts of society?” Rightfully so, Joe said it’s a reasonable question, considering that some of what we post here falls under the rubric of “ruin porn.”

While Joe concedes in his post that, “there is someone’s tragedy inherent in the ruination of these buildings and objects that somehow we find so pleasurable,” he also correctly points out that much of what we do here “transcends ruin porn.”

Seeing as how we’ve just passed the 100-post mark, this seems like a good time to talk about the reasons I launched this blog.

First and foremost is a desire to document the history in our midst. Every dilapidated building was once new, each abandoned and rusting car in the woods has a story of how it got there. For every stretch of railroad track overgrown with weeds there are thousands of rail cars that once carried freight or passengers to important destinations. Amusement parks left to rot once brought smiles to the faces of children and adults alike. Stores that fell victim to changing economic times and new shopping behaviors, once provided steady paychecks. Drive-in theaters whose screens are slowly falling victim to vegetation creep once brought in carloads of teenagers to watch double features such as “Last House on the Left” and “Slumber Party Massacre.”

I’ve lived in New England nearly my entire life. Vacant buildings don’t stay that way for long. Space is at a premium, so developers swoop in on abandoned or long-neglected properties and knock them down to build something shiny and new. By taking pictures of such properties before their destruction or renovation, we preserve a piece of the past, telling the public, “Hey, there used to be a factory on that spot, and immigrant workers from last century made watches there, and it was world famous.”

Archeology is another major interest of mine. Through this scientific pursuit, we learn about cultures and peoples by what they left behind: foundations of buildings, cooking and hunting tools, pottery, bits of clothing, and, perhaps most tellingly and voluminously, garbage.

I was amazed during an Amtrak trip last week to New York City at just how much garbage there is along the route. Pawtucket, RI, in particular struck me as a place literally lined with dumps, junkyards, run-down houses and endless streams of trash dumped over the sides of small hills and cascading down toward the tracks. Noticed it just north of New York City, too – tires, appliances, clothing, food packaging, newspapers, you name it, the stuff was tossed over fences by uncaring people.

I wonder what will become of this stuff. Will anyone every clean it up? Or has it become so much a part of the landscape that people don’t notice anymore? Archeologists and anthropologists of the future will have a field day, that’s for sure.

I found myself repeatedly during the three-and-a-half hour train trip wishing I could get off the train, and walk the tracks with my camera to document it all.

And not just the garbage. There are so many decrepit industrial and housing complexes along the route in Bridgeport, CT, for instance, that I just became numb. Yes, there is a rubbernecking attitude inherent in what we do. Having been raised in a comfortable middle-class town in Connecticut, and currently living in a similar place outside Boston, I can’t relate to life in failing mill towns and run-down industrial has-beens.

But I don’t document these places, and ask contributors to this site to do the same, because of some prurient interest. I do so in hopes of showing (as we have done on occasion) how low a place can get before it gets rescued. For instance, last August, Dave Hill posted pictures of abandoned buildings that were once part of Fort Andrews on Peddocks Island in Boston Harbor (see August 27, 2010, "Shuttered Island"). Then, this past February, the Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation announced plans to rehab roughly half the buildings on the island, with an eye toward turning the facilities into a public campground, and possibly in the future, a place for corporate retreats, a bed and breakfast and festivals (see February 24, 2011, "Shuttered Island: Update").

Last October, we updated the status of the infamous Butt-Ugly building in Hartford, Connecticut (see October 28, 2010, "UPDATE: Butt-Ugly Building"). The city purchased the building and began soliciting developers at that time. This is always what we hope for here: document a place that looks beyond help, and that fascinates us in its decay, but that ultimately gets rescued or, when need be, gets removed and the area gets revitalized.

Another factor I take into consideration is anthropology. I’m a shy guy, always have been, always will be, and feel most comfortable among friends and family. Still, I am fascinated by various subcultures, from bikers, hobos and carnies, to private school kids, European royalty and supermodels. While I’m not confident enough (yet) in my photography to approach people, rather than buildings, I would love to document folks from these walks of life. Joe Viger has to date posted the only picture with actual living, breathing human beings here, in an early post titled “Backside People”. Consider this notice to all current and future Backside contributors that I’d really like to see more of this type of work at the blog.

I also like to explore the borders of society, where often things get shoved from public view. Where the train tracks meet the gated community; where a dilapidated factory sits between nicely fixed-up houses; where machine shops butt up against rivers; where rusting cars meet wildlife, that’s where I like to tread. I don’t get to do that as much as I’d like, and often times such areas are hard (or illegal) to access.

Certainly behind many of the places we’ve documented here, there is tragedy: lost jobs, crushed dreams, environmental damage, perhaps even illness and death. Trash-filled school buses used as shelter by homeless people; graffiti-covered, abandoned military facilities hidden behind chain-link fences; one-time thriving race tracks gone to seed.

None of us would deny that. But we capture these images because they are unusual, or graphic or beautiful or thought-provoking. Why did people stop going to watch the nags? Which skateboarder first had the idea to start doing ollies, boardslides and boneless moves in a drained pool next to a shuttered motel on Cape Cod? When did that coal breaker go silent, and how many people lost their jobs?

When I see a former watch factory complex in Waltham that a friend told me was supposed to be turned into condos, I envision the people who worked there 100 years ago. I see a thriving business that employed dozens or even hundreds of people, many of them likely immigrants. I think, “Those immigrants were probably Italian or Polish or German, and probably lived lives similar to the Mexican and Guatemalan immigrants who now live near the old plant, and who work hard every day doing landscaping or restaurant work, trying to make it in a new country and afraid of being hassled or deported, just like immigrants down through time.”

Of course, not everything on the backside of America is ugly or rusty or falling apart or dangerous. I have always intended for this blog to also document the beautiful elements that are off the beaten track, the hidden gems such as diners tucked into quiet neighborhoods on Cape Cod (see July 28, 2010, "Two Hearts Beat As One"), solitary fireplaces standing sentry along walking paths in Connecticut (see June 17, 2010, "Smoke Signals From the Past") or anachronistic, but operational, phone booths (see April 6, 2010, "Drop a Dime?" and April 11, 2011, "The Dough Boy & the Phone Booth").

OK, that’s way too many words without pictures, I know. With spring upon us, I’m gonna get back out there and start snapping.

Five Gallons at a Time

2011-04-24T09:26:00.004-04:00

From Joe Viger:

A friend recently told me that they loved The Backside of America blog and then asked, "But do you ever feel like it's a bunch of rich folks gawking at the poor, decrepit parts of society?" It's a reasonable question. A lot of the posts here on the Backside are what is sometimes described as "Ruin Porn." We find fascination, interest and beauty in the old and abandoned. And, if you stop and think about it, there is someone's tragedy inherent in the ruination of these buildings and objects that somehow we find so pleasurable.

Just about a year and one month ago Dave put up the inagural post of our quaint little blog. Dig into the archives and give it a read because it is a great post (or you can just click this: Take Me to the River -- ed.) Dave described a canoe trip with his Dad that brought him down a river, viewing familiar scenes from the backside instead of his normal vantage point on the main street. He wrote, ” I saw the town from a whole new angle. Nothing was familiar, and nothing was as attractive from the back as it was from the front."

This was essentially Dave's pitch to me to contribute to the blog and the idea has always stuck with me. It transcends ruin porn. It's about how often there is a story underneath the popular thing or the degrading building. Get off Main Street and take a look around. In America, things aren't always what they seem. It's beautiful and interesting and sometimes sad. But I like to think The Backside of America is also a tribute. An acknowledgement of past or unnoticed ideas, buildings, institutions, businesses and, most importantly to me, people. They all look different from the Backside and we don't always bother to truly see.

And with that... I recently had a Backside experience.

A while back I checked the heating oil tank in my basement and, with the weather warming, was pleased to have half a tank. Two weeks later I was on empty. Typical. Annoyed that there must be something wrong with my oil tank's gauge but thankful that my burner was still running and heat and hot water was flowing, I dove onto the phone to get oil. Unfortunately, with a spring snow storm and the weekend upon us, nobody was delivering. It would be a few days.

The last oil company I called was a local, small outfit and the kind woman on the phone said she would talk to her boss. When she came back on the line, she told me they would in fact deliver but it would be an extra $250 for an emergency delivery. "Why don't you just put some kerosene or diesel in your tank until you can get a delivery?" She said. "I work here and even I just did that. But use kerosene, it burns cleaner". I vaguely remembered that you could substitute kerosene for heating oil, but had never done it and didn't know anyone who did. You always just call the oil company and buy a couple hundred gallons.

I've built my own house, but in general I'm not a mecahnical guy and I was somehow dubious of substituting anything for heating oil. But, I dug around in the garage and found a five-gallon steel jerry can and off into the snowstorm I went. We were due for a foot of snow, I was late for work and I wanted to get this over with. On my second trip back to the store for another five gallon refill, I noticed someone was filling a container of kerosene as I drove in.

While I waited, I went into the store, where I go with some regularity. Inside I found the usual clerk, a tiny woman from Kentucky with a big, friendly personality and plenty of drawl in her voice. She said "Back again!?" as I walked in the door. I told her about my broken oil tank gauge and asked her to ring up another $18 worth of kerosene. She laughed telling me she pretty much heats her house all year that way, "five gallons at a tiiiiiiime". I laughed back and she told me that the "fella out there right now" comes in all the time to get kerosene for his house, too.

The pump slowed down as the kerosene filled my jug and it seemed like it took forever to tick off the last few cents. $17.96... 97... 98... 99... $18.00. Looking at those numbers and wondering why a woman who works for an oil company would use five or 10 gallons of kerosene in her oil burner, I realized how lucky I am. Kerosene is about cash flow. For me that day, I didn't want to get hit with a big emergency fee. But for the salt of the earth cashier, this was every week. $20 for some K1 vs. $500 for delivery of a full tank of oil. For some people, this just doesn't work and never will. I'm an atheist, but God bless the folks who heat their homes five gallons at a time. They're hard working people trying to make it and if you don't have to do this all winter remember how lucky you are.

Not So Permanent Record Stores

2011-04-17T18:00:00.006-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

This post is in honor of Record Store Day, which was held yesterday, April 16th, to celebrate music and independently owned music stores.

I used to love to shop at Capitol Records in Hartford, CT. I went there several times with my high school buddy John, once we discovered college radio. I recall buying all sorts of stuff: The Rezillos' Can't Stand The Rezillos on vinyl; a live U2 bootleg cassette recorded at Boston's Paradise Club on their first U.S. tour; a few albums by Crippled Pilgrims, a band that only I cared about; and I'm fairly certain I bought at least some of my Dead Kennedys, Circle Jerks and Naked Raygun albums there.

The store closed in 1985, from what I can tell via an online search. The store was well loved, and was credited by one source as the first U.S. record store to sell CD's. I have no idea if that's true, but it certainly was a great little store.

During college, I shopped at Pitchfork Records in Keene, NH, which was not as funky as Capitol Records, but was still a great source for all my punk rock and New Wave needs. I have fond post-college memories of shopping (for vinyl initially, and then CD's) in dusty record stores in Athens, GA, and Albuquerque, NM, during a road trip; in Portsmouth, NH; Somerville, Boston and Cambridge, MA; and at various Newbury Comics stores around Boston.

But over the last few years I've become a complete and total online music convert. I love sampling and buying stuff from the comfort of my own home, and being able to put my entire collection onto my iPod. Do I miss the gentle sounds of one LP bumping against another as I peruse, or the "thwack thwack thwack" of CD's banging against each other in sales racks as I rifle them? Yes, I do. But I have much less leisure time since my kids came along, and it's so easy to search for obscure stuff online, so I've turned my back on record stores, although I miss them a great deal.

So count me among the hordes who are responsible for the decline, and in too many cases, outright disappearance of, mom and pop record shops.

My buddy Jay Kumar, who's one of the bigger music heads I know, recently tipped me off to this....depressing slab of Backsideness: 40 Sad Portraits of Closed Record Stores.

Of course, there are still plenty of record stores across this great, music-loving world of ours. And vinyl is making a comeback. So, don't be like me -- get out there and hit a brick-and-mortar shop!

Backside for Your Backside

2011-04-13T10:49:00.001-04:00

The primary guideline for contributing to this site is to interpret "backside" in any way you like. I don't pass judgment on how the members of the Backside Gang do that. Still, I wonder why Joe Viger and David Burke are the only ones who've turned in photos of toilets. -- Dave Brigham

(photo by Joe Viger of an airport bathroom, Anytown, USA)

(photo by David Burke of an abandoned train station head, Torrington, CT)

(photo by David Burke of a loo at Bukowski Tavern, Boston, MA)

(photo by Joe Viger taken at old Redstone Quarry, Conway, NH, and seen previously in 12-16-10 post, "Granite Foundations on the Backside of Walmart")

(photo by David Burke of a bathroom at the abandoned Great Barrington Racetrack and Fairgrounds, Great Barrington, MA. He swears he didn't set up this shot. For more on the racetrack, see 2-20-11 post, "Lose, Place or Show")

The Dough Boy & the Phone Booth

2011-04-11T13:21:00.001-04:00

I'm happy to welcome to the Backside Gang a friend of mine from college, Heidi Waugaman-Page. Like the rest of us here, Heidi likes to explore beyond the beaten path. "Sometimes I like to just drive off of main roads that I've driven a million times to see what's on the side roads," she explained to me. I hope you like her pictures as much as I do. -- Dave Brigham

From Heidi Waugaman-Page:

The doughboy was at a Quick Stop store in Newbury, NH, that my husband and I stopped in while driving back roads home. It was so strange and so Americana that I had to take some pictures of it. No one working knew anything about it. How could you work there and not ask lots of questions?

We were coming home from our friend's house at night, and were near Massabesic Lake in Manchester, NH, and as we went through the town, this phone booth stuck right out in the dark and I made my husband turn around so I could capture it. Surprisingly it still had one phone that was still hooked up and in service. The other side was empty. I remember being on vacation as a teenager and using all my quarters to call my boyfriend just to talk for a few minutes before the operator was asking for more money (I'm sure all of us of a certain age have memories similar to that -- ed.).

Could've Saved Myself Some Time...

2011-04-04T13:47:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I dropped my daughter off at preschool today, and then set out to take some pictures. I hadn't taken any in a while, and was excited to get out and explore. I had one location in mind that was just a few minutes from her school.

I drove past the spot, on Recreation Road in Weston, MA, but found the parking lot blocked with Jersey barriers. The site is near some highway department facilities and there had been construction nearby for a while, but I couldn't figure out why there was no access. I was hoping to explore the small reservation and the foot bridge that crosses the Charles River.

I drove on.

After driving aimlessly through Weston, Wellesley and Natick, I stopped in Dover at Chase Woodlands, a Trustees of Reservations site that connects to Peters Reservation. After a few minutes it started to rain, and since I didn't have a raincoat, boots or hat, I hied back to the car.

I decided to head back toward home so I could do some grocery shopping before picking my daughter up. After shopping and unloading the foodstuffs, I thought about where I could go to snap some pictures on the way to the school.

Then I looked into the backyard and found my quarry.

Summer House

2011-03-28T09:23:00.008-04:00

From Joe Viger:

I’m fascinated by getaways and summer houses. Friends of mine on Facebook have probably noticed a series of shared posts from Steve Casimiro’s blog called “Weekend Cabin” that indulges this fascination. Sometimes in the fall I started making images of summer houses.

This seems sort of silly I guess, but there’s something about these places that intrigues me. I’ll confess that part of this fascination is pure, unadulterated envy on my part. Who are these people who own these amazing properties and are content to let them sit dormant most of the year!? Usually I imagine quitting my job and moving in immediately.

But, I think there’s more to it than that. These houses are often architectural gems. In the valley north of NH’s Presidential Range, summer houses are built in “the Randolph style.” This is a specific shingled cottage popular in the little town of Randolph, NH.

Others are classic New England.

Some are reflections of their surroundings, like when riverstones are used in the building.

Some summer homes are more modest, but no less interesting to me.

When my Dad passed away, I remember thinking there should be more than his dog tags from the Navy and an old, corduroy railroader cap. So, above all, I think the hook for me with summer houses is the sense of family legacy that they invoke. I see them as touch points to shared history and experience of place that tie people together. Summer houses play host to generations of visits by families and friends. The only agenda item for the gatherings are unstructured time where people connect, enjoy each other and perpetuate family myth.

I realize this may be a romanticized idea that isn’t always true. But certainly legacy is getting tougher to come by as people have become more transient, families are changing shape more frequently and financial pressures make it harder and harder to hold on to family assets. All hail the summer house. Someday I’ll have one.

Working In a Coal Mine

2011-03-24T13:34:00.005-04:00

I've been anxious to publish Michael Cevoli's pictures for quite some time now. Due to his busy schedule, my time spent promoting my first book and some back-and-forth on just which pictures to publish when, the process has taken longer than I'd hoped. But finally I'm ready to feature the first of what I hope will be many posts from him.

Based in Providence, RI, Cevoli is a graduate of the master's program at the Rhode Island School of Design. The photos below are part of his thesis work at RISD. He is slated to show some of his work at a museum in Poland this year.

The photos below were all taken in Pennsylvania. I think they're great. I hope you do, too. -- Dave Brigham

From Michael Cevoli:

Open Mine, Ashley, PA

Drag Line, Darkwater, PA

Coal Breaker, Ashley, PA

Patch Housing, Ashland, PA

Family Shrine, Byrnesville, PA

Coal Fire, Locust Mountain, PA

Anatomy of a Teardown

2011-03-18T11:38:00.003-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I live in Newton, Mass., a well-to-do community that's gone teardown crazy in recent years. See a '50s-style ranch house that's a little worse for wear? Don't blink; it'll soon be gone.

This house used to be in the Oak Hill section of my fair city, on Dudley Road, one of my favorite "big ol' house" thoroughfares.

The older section of the road is close to Route 9, and filled with enormous houses, both new and old, set on wooded lots and away from the road. The teardown house was located on the newer section of the road, amid average-sized houses. It went on the market in March of 2010, and was scooped up by a developer, who soon leveled it.

By July, the new house looked like this:

Now it's on the market for a cool $1.525 million.

I'm not gonna argue that the original house was anything worth saving, and I understand the economics of development means that you have to build something that you can put a big price tag on. But doesn't anybody remodel anymore?

Lost Bomber

2011-03-14T11:32:00.005-04:00

From Kristen Smith:

In January 1942, just weeks after the Pearl Harbor attack, a B18 bomber crew were on anti-submarine patrol over the north Atlantic. Flying out of Chicopee, Mass., they planned to be as far north as Newfoundland, where enemy submarines were suspected to lurk. The weather was not on their side and quickly turned nasty when a storm came up the coast. Blown inland, the inexperienced crew (they were B24 experts, a different beast altogether) were soon hopelessly lost. Some say the men, who had never worked together before, had trouble calculating their drift. Visibility was nil. Whatever the problem, it became apparent only when the plane brushed treetops that they were anywhere near a mountain. By that time it was too late and the pilot’s evasive maneuvers failed. They crashed spectacularly into Mt. Waternomee, waking up the towns below.

A rescue team was rounded up and within an hour they were headed up the steep, deeply snowed-in mountain in North Woodstock, NH. I can only imagine the intense stress they were under, not only from the trepidation about what they would find, but because of the utter chaos of the forest after the hurricane of 1938. Trees down everywhere, the trail obscured, deep snow drifts, camouflaged chasms just waiting for someone to fall in. No GPS or cell phones. No Gore-Tex or fleece either. Amazingly, they found five of the seven-man crew alive.

After more than 60 years, the site is and isn’t what you’d expect. You’d expect there to be almost nothing visible, but there is, due to the fact that volunteers annually clear debris from the extant wreckage. You’d also expect there to be more wreckage than there is. What with the Army carting off the cockpit and ordinance and others carting off the fuselage and tail section for a museum, there isn’t a lot of recognizable stuff on the ground. What’s left is almost unrecognizable. Most of the site looks like this:

Fifty years after the crash, in 1992, a memorial plaque was erected and an American flag flies from a nearby sapling. It’s pretty startling to come across this on the trail. On the whole it’s a very steep and rocky climb and then the next time you raise your head, there it is. Mangled hunks and twisted metal spread over a couple of acres. I can’t believe anyone lived, but they did.

Photographs from the day of the crash can be seen here, and a more detailed account of the crash, the crew and the rescue is here.

I have more photos here.

Graffiti Highway

2011-03-07T10:26:00.004-05:00

From Mick Melvin:

My niece and nephew told me about an abandoned highway near Route 84 going through West Hartford, CT. Of course, I thought of the photo opportunities right away.

The “highway” is actually a series of never-used on and off ramps near Route 84. They told me how to get to it and I made the trek on my mountain bike, with camera backpack in tow. I rode along the ramps and the overpasses for many hours on a beautiful spring day. (We ran a short piece with one photo about these ramps in June 2010, called "Ghost Highway" -- ed.)

There are six ramps that run underneath the overpasses and over the highway. Four of the ramps lead to the overpasses that go above Route 84 near Exit 39A leading to and from Route 9. The other two ramps were to be off ramps on the northern side of the highway.

I enjoyed the quiet while pedaling along the abandoned ramps. It's really quiet until you are practically over the highway; then you can hear the roar of the traffic below. It was really eerie being there all alone, but it was a good ride for an old fella like me.

Besides the overgrown vegetation on my journey, there was graffiti of all sorts to see along the way. I spent a good amount of time viewing the various writings and artwork on the walls, railings, and mostly the pavement.

I also enjoyed the view of Route 84 while on the empty overpasses. While standing and enjoying the view, I couldn't help but think that the location could be a great park or fitness trail. Hopefully someday the abandoned highway will be utilized and be removed from backside status.

Happy First Birthday to Backside!

2011-03-01T14:34:00.003-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I had no idea what to expect when I launched The Backside of America a year ago (see March 1, 2010, "Take Me to the River."). I'd long had an interest in what goes on behind the neat and polite curtain of society, whether it be the crumbling walls hidden behind the solid abandoned factory facade, or the neat-as-a-pin back lawns of Newport, RI, as seen from the Cliff Walk.

I had a backlog of my own photos to get things rolling, but I had a sometimes sketchy point-and-shoot digital camera and no knowledge of exposure, composition, lighting, shutter speed and editing. So I reached out to a handful of friends whose photos I admired. Luckily, most of them agreed to join the ranks here. And they have done recruiting of their own, so this blog continues to flourish (and we're always looking for more people; America's a BIG place.).

I've been overwhelmed by the great pictures and fascinating stories that have come across the digital transom, such as Joe Viger's stark black-and-white frozen Alaskan tundra (see March 8, 2010 "Backside at the Topside of the Continent"); Mick Melvin's tale of the rise and fall of turn-of-the-20th-century African American community, Deerfield, Colorado (see July 9, 2010, "Dearly Departed Deerfield"); and David Burke's June 8, 2010, B & E adventure, "Meet Me at the Station (We'll Find a Way In)."

Over the last 12 months, we've covered many of my favorite topics:

Diners -- see March 18, 2010, "Eat, Dance & Be Happy" from David Burke and my own July 28, 2010, ode to Lazarus-like diner owner Barbara Lind "Two Hearts Beat As One".

Drive-in Movie Theaters -- see April 12, 2010, "Cars, Flicks & Weiners" from David Burke.

Old vehicles -- see Michelle Loya's May 24, 2010, "This Old Truck" piece, and Mick Melvin's January 1, 2011, post, "Patriotic Caddie."

Old Factories -- see my July 5, 2010, post "Rebuilding the Lost City."

There are plenty of great things in the hopper: fantastic shots and a history lesson about a downed B-18 bomber from our newest contributor, Kristen Smith; my chronicle of, and diatribe against, the tear-down culture; and a post that brings new meaning to The Backside of America.

Still, with all the great stuff we've run in the past 12 months, there are some pictures that either haven't fit in anywhere, or have been cut from posts due to space considerations. Below, you'll find some of those pictures.

From Mick Melvin:

(Hansen Agregates- Distribution Quarry, Downingtown, PA, taken through a chain linked fence.)

From David Burke:

(Old quarry, Torrington, CT)

From Michelle Loya:

(Wagon wheel, Woodstock, Vermont)

From David Burke:

(Taken in Portland, CT, in the late '90s)

From Dave Brigham:

(The King, Newton, MA)

From Kristen Smith:

(Bedford Golfland, Bedford, NH)

From Joe Viger:

(Taken in Asheville, NC)

From David Burke:

(Taken in Torrington, CT)

From Dave Brigham:

(Taken at the Boston Trailer Park on March 16, 2010, after three days of heavy rain.)

From Joe Viger:

(Oakland, CA)

From Joe's Flickr page: The Talking Heads album cover for "More Songs About Buildings and Food" features this great photomosiac done by David Byrne. He made a portrait of the band using hundreds of polaroids. It's amazing... they have it at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. This view reminded me of that, despite being much less interesting than Talking Heads.

From Mick Melvin:

(Old broken down truck in an old garage in Avondale, PA.)

I'm happy to report that I have a new camera, and have been taking an adult ed class to learn how to use it more effectively. Here's to the next 12 months of beautiful pictures and fascinating posts!

UPDATE: What a Dump

2011-02-27T17:27:00.007-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I love the immediacy of the Internet. Not long after I originally posted this, one of our loyal followers pointed me toward this web page because she suspected this building is the old O'Hara Waltham Dial Company. One look at the picture there, and I knew she was right. A big Backside thanks to Shuko, proprietress of the wonderful Creepy-chusetts, Strange-chusetts photo blog!

Built in 1897, the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1989. I'm glad to know that one of my original guesses about this building -- that it was either automotive- or watchmaking-related -- turned out to be correct.

I know a guy who lives nearby and he said a developer bought the place a few years back with plans to build condos. I'm not sure if the developer was going to save the building. It's on Rumford Avenue, within sniffing distance of the Newton town dump, so I get the feeling nothing will happen until the housing market catches a big fire.

Shuttered Island: Update

2011-02-24T10:08:00.003-05:00

Last August, Dave Hill posted about a trip he took to Peddocks Island (see August 27, 2010, "Shuttered Island."). Home to the abandoned Fort Andrews, which was constructed in the late 1800's and active until the end of World War II, the island comprises dozens of rundown buildings that seem to just beg for rehabilitation. Part of the Boston Harbor Islands park system, Peddocks is where Martin Scorsese's "Shutter Island" was filmed in part.

Well, as part of a new agreement announced last week, roughly half of the island's 30 buildings are going to be rehabbed or at least shored up so they can be restored at a later date. Others will be sacrificed as the Mass. Department of Conservation and Recreation, in tandem with the island alliance organization, take on a project to turn Peddocks into a public campground and, possibly in the future, a location for corporate retreats, a bed and breakfast, and festivals.

Check out this video and article for more about the island's history and its future.

Lose, Place or Show

2011-02-20T09:39:00.001-05:00

From David Burke:

(These great shots of the former Great Barrington Fairgrounds in Great Barrington, MA, were taken in August 2010 -- Ed.)

Abandoned for Your Amusement

2011-02-15T12:24:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

My amusement park experiences are limited; I spent more time as a kid and teenager at the Simsbury (CT) Volunteer Fire Department's summer carnival than I did walking theme park midways admiring beautiful wooden roller coasters and freak shows. Still, my appreciation for old-time entertainment is real.

I love riding roller coasters and ferris wheels (although the older I get, the less tolerance I have for the spinning rides); eating fried dough; going through haunted houses with my son; watching motocross at county fairs. And when I read about another 100-year-old amusement park being shut down or torn down, I feel sad. Why? I lament the loss of the personal touch that smaller parks offer, the simpler pleasures, the idea that rides don't have to be 10 stories tall and travel at 150 mph to be fun.

I'm a Luddite at heart, one who should have been born in the late '30s or early '40s so I could've enjoyed driving a '57 Chevy to the malt shoppe with my best girl, sneaking friends into the drive-in movies and riding rickety roller coasters and watching the roustabouts sing, fight and ride motorcycles around the Globe of Death.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Check out some great photos and videos of abandoned amusement parks that the folks at trip planner Nile Guide posted.

Up From the Basement?

2011-02-10T10:01:00.001-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Some day the ugly pit formerly known as Filene's in Boston's Downtown Crossing neighborhood will be filled with something other than gravel, hyperbole and lost dreams.

Anybody else thinking of Mike Mulligan and his steam shovel?

The Zen of Finding a Barn and a School Bus

2011-02-04T10:50:00.007-05:00

From Joe Viger:

Early on the first Saturday of the New Year I struck out with a friend for a day of making pictures. Our stated plan was to shoot Glen Ellis Falls and then see what else we could find of interest in Pinkham Notch. Nothing seemed all that inspiring. After all, in winter, waterfalls are frozen and currently there isn't even the drama of ice because of snow cover. My partner and I were of like minds to wander and see what might happen. We hatched a plan to head to the backside of the Presidential Range and get pictures of Mt. Washington from Bretton Woods.

This is home turf to me. I grew up on the northern slopes of the Presidential Range. The marquee side is south... North Conway, outlet shopping, Mt. Washington views and ski areas. But north, it's Berlin, shut-down paper mills, two prisons, French Canadians, people who work for a living and open space. And a better view of the Presidential Range in my humble opinion (for more on Berlin, see Joe's 6-20-10 post, "The Truth Behind Beautiful Ruins.").

We drove on to Gorham, but didn't stop, turning left on Route 2 to insanely beautiful Randolph. We made images of a couple of interesting summer homes and waited for the clouds to break. We were hoping for a view of Mounts Madison and Adams and the unique perspective of King Ravine you can only get from Randolph Hill, but it never materialized. Snow swirled all the while.

Back in the car, we headed west on Route 2. Mount Jefferson was interesting that day, but too shouded and gray to be worth a shot. I veered left on Valley Road in Jefferson, where my Boy Scout troop used to camp. Valley Road opened to Route 115 and the logical thing would have been to turn left again onto the trade route for retreating southbound tourists. I went straight across 115 almost instinctually on a road I had never driven called Israel River Road. We hit a wonderful open plain called Jefferson Meadows and there it was. In the shadow of finely pointed Cherry Mountain we found what we didn't even know we were looking for.

Demolition -- Par for the Course

2011-01-30T15:39:00.005-05:00

We here at the Backside are pleased to welcome Kristen Smith to our ranks. Check out more of her terrific photos at Wicked Dark Photography .

From Kristen Smith:

I can’t claim any nostalgia over Bedford Golfland other than in general. I only went there once in high school even though it existed all through my childhood and only became defunct a few years ago (I think the year on the day planner in the office was 2006). Even though I wasn’t a customer, I was used to seeing the place, if you know what I mean. It was the kind of thing you’d use to give someone directions –- go through the light at the mini golf place.

The site is due for a date with the bulldozer in the spring. Like the world needs another supermarket, right? As you can see, vandals have gotten a head start on the destruction. I seem to recall this trap was a little New England scene with a barn or a water wheel mill or something. Cutesy, but typical of the old-style mini golf set up.

For some reason we also had a tribute to Gilligan’s Island.

No one bothered me while I shot although I’m sure folks in the passing cars wondered what the hell I was doing out in the wind and cold. Eventually I made my way over to the former office. Had to wait until some hunters played through though. After I heard a couple of very close rifle shots, I looked over my shoulder a few minutes later and noticed a hunter standing in the walkway between the driving range and the office. It was a little weird, but he didn’t say anything and I didn’t see him again. The destruction inside the office was near total. Only more sturdy structures like walls, the counter and the ice cream treat freezer remain intact. It made for some interesting still lifes.

I like this photo because the card was found as it is, but not where it was. I moved it to a better location and shot. The light was pretty damn great and having the camera on a tripod helped. All of these were shot with a tripod, something I don’t do often enough, but felt that I should since it wasn’t like I would be walking miles. The additional range of options it gave me really helped. I wasn’t cornered into using a high ISO or wide-open apertures.

Although the light isn’t the best in the outdoor shots, I like enough of what I got to feel satisfied with the shoot and what I was able to document.

It makes me a little sad that a supermarket is going in there. People complain that families and friends don’t do anything together anymore. That we’ve become a society of passive watchers only, instead of active doers. As long as we keep tearing down miniature golf parks to put up supermarkets, is there any wonder why?

End of the Road

2011-01-24T13:37:00.001-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Ever since discovering this abandoned section of old Route 128 in the Blue Hills Reservation in Milton, MA, during a mountain bike trek several years ago, I've wanted to get back and take some pictures. OK, that's an exaggeration. I have long wanted to get back to the site. But only since starting this blog last March have I wanted to take pictures. I finally made the half-hour trip there with my daughter this past fall.

I didn't do enough mapping homework in advance, and ended up having to carry my 3-year-old daughter for a good distance through the woods to find the old road. Once we found it, however, she was more than happy to jump out of my arms and walk along, mugging for the camera. From what I've learned online, state road crews have used the old highway for striping practice, evidence of which can be seen here.

This is the end. Or the beginning. Take your choice.

Undercity

2011-01-17T19:10:00.004-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

Self-described urban historian and photographer Steve Duncan made a 28-minute documentary with filmmaker Andrew Wonder (real name: certainly not Andrew Wonder) in which they explore abandoned subway stations, forgotten sewer tunnels and the tops of bridges in New York City. Very cool -- made we wish I were younger or at least more adventurous, or had more time on my hands, or wasn't concerned about hurting myself or leaving my kids without a father.

Thanks to my buddy David Belson for tipping me off to this video.

Check out more of Duncan's exploration photos from around the globe here.

Water Under the Bridge

2011-01-13T18:44:00.001-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

l took these pictures in Weston, MA, at a water main crossing for the Massachusetts Water Resources Authority. The site is directly across the Charles River from the Newton Marriott Hotel and very close to a canoe and kayak rental place located in a one-time Metropolitan District Commission police building.

The water main crossing site is also popular for feeding ducks, and for gay cruising, according to my wife, who's a Newton native. For me, it's just a cool place to wonder and wander.

Trash Guitar

2011-01-07T21:25:00.003-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I don't get it. Who tosses a guitar over the side of a bridge and down a hill hard by the Charles River? In my dream of dreams, a Boxcar Willie devotee scrambles down the incline, cleans the grit off the guitar and sells a million records singing about starfish and the Crab Nebula.

Patriotic Caddie

2011-01-01T18:04:00.002-05:00

From Mick Melvin:

I happened upon this old patriotic ambulance while taking a detour on a trip in Vermont. We were driving south from Colchester, looking for covered bridges on the way to visit relatives in Northfield. We were driving along Cox Brook Road (a country road off of Route 12) when I noticed the old auto and had to stop. I snapped only one shot. We found the bridge, the Lower Cox Brook Bridge circa 1872, and took a few photos. When we returned down the road from viewing the old bridge, I had to stop and take a couple more shots of this vintage ride.

I took this picture in 2007 and rediscovered it recently. I immediately thought about the “Backside.” I searched online comparing it to pictures of classic Cadillacs. After viewing some awesome pictures of old Cadillac models, it looks to be a 1956 limousine-style ambulance. There were some nice pictures of vintage cars, which had me side-tracked for about an hour or so. I can only imagine seeing some of those old cars in their primes. I'm glad we took a detour that day so we can enjoy this piece of the backside of America and let our imaginations run wild. Woo woo woo...

Shameless Plug

2010-12-27T23:19:00.006-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

We interrupt this blog about dilapidated buildings, abandoned vehicles and old quarries to bring you a bit of shameless self-promotion. I've published my first book, a collection of short stories called (C)rock Stories: Million-Dollar Tales of Music, Mayhem and Immaturity.

You can buy it here.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Where the Sun Never Sets

2010-12-26T17:03:00.003-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

The sun never sets in Auburndale, Mass.

I pass by this mural to and from my daughter's preschool three days a week. Tens of thousands pass it every day on the Mass. Pike. Most people, if they notice it at all, have no idea the history behind it. I didn't either until I hit the "return" button on my Google search. Even still, I have more questions than answers.

According to a blog thread at the web site for the Newton Tab weekly newspaper, the mural was painted in 1969 or 1970 on the back of a "new-Agey" store called "Ends of the Earth." Evidently, according to the blog, the mural attracted local and national press because of the "hidden meaning" the painting held. Two people posted on the blog about this supposed meaning, which may or may not have been obscene, but nobody has any details.

Nowadays, it seems very innocent: a sun, what appears to be a butterfly, a circle and some long, straight lines. I'd really like to know what was on the mural in its original incarnation. I may have to buy a time machine, which would be worth it, because according to another post on the above-mentioned blog, the building used to be a restaurant and bar.

Who painted this mural? What was on it that some people deemed obscene? What products did "Ends of the Earth" sell? Why did this mural get saved in a cleaned-up version? So many questions...

Breakdown, Go Ahead and Give It To Me

2010-12-21T18:33:00.001-05:00

Backside contributor Joe Viger recently hipped Backside management about photographer Christina Tullo's excellent web site. Designedbreakdown "is an all-encompassing collection of her photography focusing mainly on the breakdown of society's architectual progress when ravaged by time and neglect," according to Ms. Tullo.

Athletic fields, industrial ruins, decrepit hospitals, eerie seascapes, churches -- Tullo's images of these places are amazing, beautiful, sad, haunting, breathtaking and more.

Granite Foundations on the Backside of Walmart

2010-12-16T09:07:00.004-05:00

From Joe Viger:

My local Walmart is store #2140 in North Conway, NH. It was built on a tract of land near the southern end of Rattlesnake Mountain and the Nature Conservancy's Green Hills Preserve. Look up over the store at the slopes of Rattlesnake Mountain and you might notice that the granite cliffs seem too square to be natural. Ignore your shopping and take a 15 minute walk and you'll discover that what you were looking at from down in the Walmart parking lot are the remnants of two granite quarries over 100 years old.

In the 1800's the area had already been a source of granite boulders for bridges and foundations. In 1880, a roadmaster for the Maine Central Railraod named George Wagg brought samples of the stone to the Maine Central President, Payson Tucker, and J.H. Emery of the North Jay Granite Company. Land on Rattlesnake Mountain was acquired and by 1887 Wagg was president of the Maine and New Hampshire Granite Company and Redstone Quarry took shape. The site was expanded with additional land purchases, a cutting yard at the base of the mountain and a branch line from the Maine Central.

The quarry was valuable for producing two colors of granite... pink and green. At the height of production, Redstone was a vital community of 350 stone workers and tradesmen with its own train station and company-owned housing. The quarries supported 10 derricks moving stone down the slope. Stone lathes produced turned granite columns and skilled carvers created statue pieces. Green granite from Redstone was used to build the Hatch Shell in Boston. Pink granite made its way to New York for Grant's Tomb and Washington in the National Archives building.

The history of this site is well described in an article called "Redstone Granite Quarries" at WhiteMountainHistory.org and I'm thankful to cite it as a source for the text above, along with Wikipedia. Early photographs can been seen here.

Ridin' the Rails on a Small Scale

2010-12-08T10:26:00.002-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I find enjoyment on many levels from riding the Boston subway system with my son, who's eight. I like spending four hours or so, just the two of us, checking out the Blue, Orange, Red, and Green lines; trying to solve the mystery of just where do those doors in the tunnels lead to; taking pictures of graffiti; people watching; eating lunch at South Station -- always Regina Pizzeria despite the plethora of options. I also take pleasure from the occasional Amtrak trip from Boston to New York, riding along the Connecticut shore, checking out the lesser-seen elements of cities like Providence, New London and Bridgeport, as well as small towns all along the way.

So imagine my excitement to learn about railcar trips in a recent Boston Globe article. Also called motorcars, these little vehicles are like bread boxes on wheels that railroad inspectors and maintenance workers used before the advent of regular trucks fitted with retractable guide wheels that ride the rails. Long story short: railroad enthusiasts buy and maintain these vehicles, form clubs and negotiate with railroads for time on the tracks.

Here's the Globe article, which includes a short video.

And here's a gallery from an enthusiast web site featuring some great pictures of the cars, as well as cool scenery along a trip in Georgia.

Abandon Us...But Please Come Back!

2010-12-01T12:37:00.006-05:00

The Boston Globe recently published a profile of "urban ruins photographer" Jason Baker, who just published his third book, "Abandoned 2," which features five short horror stories (written by others) accompanied by Baker's pictures of abandoned state hospitals.

You can see the pictures that accompanied the Globe story here and check out other Baker works here.

Don't forget to come back to the Backside. Upcoming features will cover the eyesore hole in the ground in Boston's Downtown Crossing where Filene's used to be; the part of old Route 128 that runs in the Blue Hills Reservation outside Boston; old granite quarries behind the Walmart in North Conway, NH; and the first pictures from new contributor Michael Cevoli, which I'm excited to post.

Facing Death

2010-11-24T14:29:00.004-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I've lived in the Boston area for 20 years, roughly the amount of time since the Faces nightclub on Route 2 in Cambridge closed down. Oddly, pinning down just how long the place has been shuttered is difficult, even for Cambridge government officials. You'd think in this day and age it wouldn't be that hard to figure how long one of the most infamous eyesores in the city has been messing up the view as folks enter Cambridge from the west.

A year ago, the Cambridge Day newspaper reported that the Faces site was getting cleaned up, quoting representatives for the property owners indicating that "there is a plan" for the site. The property is no longer zoned for entertainment, but rather for office space, R&D and housing. As you can see, not much has happened since that promise.

I snapped these photos while at the Lanes & Games bowling alley next door with my wife and kids. Even if I'd been alone, however, I wouldn't have been able to venture inside, as you can see.

Here are some great shots from somebody who did venture inside.

Guido's Court

2010-11-18T08:28:00.004-05:00

From Dave Brigham:

I wanted to get to this bocce court when some of the old-timers were actually playing, but by the time I fit my trip in, their season was over. I've lived in the Boston area for 20 years, and had driven by this location many times but only in the last few years did I discover it was home to a bocce court.

The court is on the Leo J. Birmingham Parkway, a short stretch of road that runs parallel to the Mass. Pike, up a hill from Staples and Martignetti Liquors in Brighton, and just around the corner from the old Charles River Speedway headquarters (see 9-6-10 UPDATED: Horsing Around at the Old Barracks). A Google search turned up the fact that the Mass. Legislature officially named the court in Guido Salvucci's honor in September 2003, but Google didn't provide any clues as to the honored man's identity.

I love the simplicity of this site, and the old-fashioned tools and scoreboards. Seems like a great place to hang out on a lazy summer afternoon, drink some grappa and get a few lessons, if you're so inclined.

Mining for the Backside

2010-11-12T12:20:00.003-05:00

From Mick Melvin:

I went out to shoot a few backside pictures and saw this building with a big government sign posted. I almost didn't stop for fear of being whisked away by the “men in black.” I've always been curious about this site along Route 6 in Farmington, CT. I ended up looking closely at the sign that read, "U.S. Government M.S.H.A. Registered Mine."

"Tilcon Connecticut" was also printed in small red letters at the bottom of the sign.

As I often do, I went home to do some research on the location. I ended up finding the Tilcon Connecticut web site. Tilcon Connecticut deals in crushed stone, hot mix asphalt and ready mix concrete. There are over 20 sites throughout CT that sell any combination of the three. The site along Route 6 in Farmington doesn't seem to be producing much these days except some shots for the Backside.

Can You Ever Get Enough of Train Tracks?

2010-11-04T09:21:00.002-04:00

As any hobo knows, some of the best views of any town or city are from a train. Here are some shots of train tracks, subway systems and affiliated locales and items from a few of Backside's contributors.

Iron pin in retaining wall for abandoned B&M trestle, Waltham, MA

(Photo by Dave Brigham)

Tracks in Bristol, CT

(Photo by David Burke)

Tracks at old train station in Torrington, CT

(Photo by Michelle Loya)

Tracks over a stream, Torrington, CT

(Photo by David Burke)

Decrepit train in Essex, CT

(Photo by David Burke)

Trackside mail box at JFK/UMass stop on Boston's Red Line

(Photo by Dave Brigham)

End of Red Line, Ashmont Station, Boston, MA

(Photo by Dave Brigham)

UPDATE: Butt Ugly Building

2010-10-28T09:10:00.007-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Thanks to my buddy Gary Holmes for letting us know that demolition began yesterday on Hartford's Butt Ugly Building (see 8-15-10 "The Butt Ugly Building").

This article in the Hartford Courant indicates that the tear-down should be complete by mid-November, and that the city, which acquired the building earlier this year, is soliciting developers from across the country in hopes of building a multi-use development.

Off the Air

2010-10-27T13:16:00.002-04:00

From Mick Melvin:

When I was kid, my father told me that when he moved to a new area he would take a ride and get lost. He said he would familiarize himself with the area that way. I was out for one of my weekend “Backside” rides in CT and had gotten lost. Thinking of my dad, I just took in the sights and familiarized myself with the area. In doing so, I came upon a Backside gem.

As I drove along Route 173 in Newington, I saw a building with the call letters of a radio station, WPOP. Not being from CT, I was not aware of this station. I asked my wife, who is from West Hartford, about WPOP and she said she listened to the station when she was young. She said right away, “WPOP Good Guys,” recalling a time in the '60's and '70's when the station's DJs were called the Good Guys. The station played Top 40 music at the time. The station was sold to Merv Griffin in the early '70's and soon became an NBC news and information station. The radio station left the Newington location in 1998, leaving the space abandoned like many of our backside subjects.

These Boots Were Made for Explorin'

2010-10-21T22:21:00.003-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Because their sensibility about America's rump is right in line with The Backside, the folks at Palladium Boots have almost convinced me to buy some quality French footwear. Recently, I highlighted the documentary about Detroit that the company made with Johnny Knoxville of "Jackass" fame (see October 10, 2010: Reppin' for the Motor City). Today I'm pimpin' three more of the company's short films about hidden and dilapidated parts of the country, as well as one coal mine that's been burning since 1962.

In the first doc, a pleasant young woman and her crew go in search of abandoned missile silos in Washington and Kansas that have been left for graffiti artists, amateur spelunkers, UFO researchers, and real estate prospectors, among others. Stick around 'til the end for a tour of a silo property that's been converted into a hippy haven.

In the second film, a pleasant young man takes a tour of a slew of New York City's ruins, including a power station in Yonkers, a subway tunnel in Harlem, and a grain terminal in Brooklyn.

In the third documentary, another fine, upstanding young man tours Centralia, PA, home to a labyrinth of coal mines that caught fire in 1962, and is still burning.

Faded Glory

2010-10-16T21:15:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

I recently took my daughter, Amelia, to the Joanne C. Pellegrini playground in Newton, just a few minutes from where we live. I hadn't been there in years, and had forgotten about the three huge murals on the walls of the small community center, and a retaining wall at the back of the property.

The park is named for the late wife of the late Anthony "Fat" Pellegrini, the colorful, unofficial (mobbed up?) mayor of Newton's Nonantum section. Known to locals as The Lake, Nonantum was for years the Italian section of town, and still is to some degree. Fat's son, an Elvis impersonator who went by the name Monk Pelli, used to perform regularly at this park, right in front of the mural of The King.

I never saw Pelli perform; I went to the park once with my girlfriend (now wife) and a few friends hoping to see the show, but it got delayed so long that we bagged it. Lifelong regret, that one.

The detail from mural below shows the Marx Brothers. Other characters on the wall include Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Charlie Chan, Laurel and Hardy and Charlie Brown. My wife, who grew up in Newton and knows The Lake well, claims Fat is depicted on the mural as well, but I couldn't pick him out.

The most prominent mural, and best preserved, is the one of the late Arthur Fiedler conducting the Boston Pops for their world renowned Fourth of July concert in Boston.

Reppin' for the Motor City

2010-10-10T22:45:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

Thanks to my father-in-law, Rich, for tipping me off to this David Byrne article about the long decline of Detroit. Musician, writer, actor, artist, advocate for world music and former leader of Talking Heads, Byrne gives a great sense of why the Motor City is in the dire straits that it's in today: domination by the auto industry shut out any public transportation presence; white flight, as in many other big cities in the 1960's, following fierce riots; the financial meltdown that has hit few cities as hard. It's a great read and features some cool photos and Byrne's hope that "if the city center here can become more of the focus then a much smaller town with vibrant life might emerge."

While Byrne focuses largely on the problems besetting Motown, actor/professional jackass Johnny Knoxville has teamed with Palladium Boots to produce "Detroit Lives," a 30-minute documentary highlighting what's right with the city.

The first part, through film-strip footage and talking head commentary, provides a quick story of the rise and fall of the city. Then, local artists, activists, restaurateurs and musicians step up to talk about opportunity for creativity and commerce:

In the second part, Knoxville tours the city with two members of longtime local band The Dirtbombs, talks with MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer, tromps through a dilapidated movie and music theater, and even strolls through Berry Gordy's former mansion:

In the third and final part, Knoxville and guests in his beautiful old Cadillac convertible discuss urban farming, explore an old Cadillac factory, hang out in an old industrial building that's been converted to artist lofts, and learn about Detroit's DIY ethic. Stick around 'til the end to see the Heidelberg Project:

Abstractside

2010-10-04T19:36:00.002-04:00

From Chris St. Cyr:

One of the aspects of Florida living that I really enjoy is the architecture -- the modern architecture, to be specific. And by modern I don’t mean the latest gated-community McMansion development next to the strip mall. I mean modern as in 20th-century. The kind of architecture that is geometric and clean with open spaces and lots of glass. The kinds of surfaces that are flat and minimal and have no need for decoration to stand out in the neighborhood.

When I moved here a few years ago I rented office space in downtown Sarasota for my graphic design firm. As I became familiar with the side streets and back alleys I began to notice a fascinating artifact that was the merging of this modern architecture and street culture. Or should I say modern art and street art.

To some people the modern architecture was a beautiful clean canvas on which to create art -- in this case graffiti art. The reaction to this type of public art is of course to cover it up by painting over it. The resulting images you see here are these amazing paintings of bands of color that are reminiscent of Mark Rothko’s abstract expressionist paintings from the 1940’s and 50’s.

It’s this unintentional art that makes the backside of America so beautiful.

Down the Drain

2010-09-28T08:21:00.002-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

The demise of the Banana Village water slide in North Conway, NH, is partly my family's fault. When we visited that tourist town in the summer of 2009 we played mini golf at the village, as well as at one other place. We didn't use the water slide, but it looked like a great time. This year, however, when we made our northern pilgrimage to Story Land , we stayed at the Red Jacket Resort in North Conway, which has its own indoor water park, Kahuna Laguna. We availed ourselves of the park for the three days we were there, and had a great time.

But when we hit Banana Village for mini golf on the way out of town, we saw that it obviously couldn't compete with Kahuna Laguna, and had dismantled its water slide (although it's still featured on the web site). I don't feel too bad about the slide's swirl down the drain. I'm sure the owners will come up with some other trap to ensnare tourists and their money.

Charles River Speedway Update

2010-09-24T20:53:00.001-04:00

From Dave Brigham:

For 20 years I lived in and around Boston, and had no idea what the long-abandoned buildings at the corner of Western Ave. and Soldiers Field Road in Brighton were. Long story short: I took some pictures, posted them on Flickr, and through a fellow user of the photo-sharing web site, learned that the buildings were once part of a horse track called the Charles River Speedway (see UPDATED: Horsing Around at the Old Barracks from Sept. 6, 2010).

In July the buildings were added to the National Register of Historic Places, which unfortunately affords the complex no protection. The Boston Globe ran an article yesterday about the century-old site, detailing how Preservation Massachusetts has added the former speedway headquarters to its Most Endangered Historic Resources list. The listing is part of the group's effort to pressure the buildings' owner, the state Department of Recreation and Conservation, to preserve the site and find alternative uses for it.

The state recently committed $132,000 to shore up foundations, replace rotted sills and restore exterior walls, according to the Globe, but all involved agree much more is needed. State lawmakers recently passed legislation to renovate the buildings and move the nearby State Police barracks there, but the current economic climate means that's not going to happen any time soon.

Here's hoping the renovations get funded, one way or another, and this site sees new life.