Meet Me at the Station (We'll Find a Way In)

From David Burke:

I have taken many pictures of the exteriors of crumbling old buildings, but I finally decided to venture to the inside (Yes! I'm totally jealous, as I take most of my pics with my 2-year-old daughter tagging along, so I can't be so bold. -- Ed.).

I have wanted to see the inside of the old Torrington Train Station for some time, but a moat of chain link fence, boarded up doors and NO TRESSPASSING signs kept me on the outside. Let's just say that I finally found a way around all those distractions.

What I found inside amazed me! Half of the floor, including where the ticket booth stands, has collapsed. The impossibly heavy safes have slid against the wall. ( A note to other wanna-be explorers; watch your footing!)



What also fascinated me was that since the station's closing (mid 1960's I think) it has been used for storage of objects that any Backside of America fan would appreciate. Amid the beer cans, liquor bottles, trash and debris there is a horse drawn sleigh and buggy, a bathtub, desks, filing cabinets and centered in the middle of the station, a dusty and beautiful piano.



There are stories behind all of these artifacts, yet all I know is that they are now mostly forgotten. However, I do believe that as long as images like these are out there, their past will continue to exist.

Sure Signs of Recession

From Chris St. Cyr:

Nothing says "recession" like the hint of a once-present company logo or painted-over typography. Wait, this is a blog about cool photos that capture the hidden and forgotten remnants of Americana, not about the effects of poor decisions by 20-somethings on Wall Street.

As much as I enjoy these images of old business signs, they are signs of a different kind. There are probably as many reasons for the closings of the businesses as there are signs along Route 41 on the West Coast of Florida. Here in 2010 it's hard not to see the connection of a bad economy and the backside of America.

Go Away Into the Ruins

On rare occasions, we here at The Backside of America urge our readers to visit other web sites, because, hey, we can't fill all of your needs when it comes to posting photos and short essays about dilapidated factories, junky old cars and spooky train trestles. It has come to our attention that a new book, Ruin: Photographs of a Vanishing America, by Brian Vanden Brink, will hit bookstores soon.

You can visit the author's web site to find out more about his architectural photography and other books; or stop by the publisher's web site for a preview of the book, which looks incredible. A bit pricey, but maybe a good birthday or Christmas gift?

The Ones That Got Away, Part II

By Dave Brigham:

After writing a short article for the Society for Commercial Archeology's monthly newsletter in the summer of 2005 about Dave Waller's efforts to save and restore old neon signs (see March 22, 2010, Backside entry, "Gettin' My Kicks" for more on Waller), I began looking for other story ideas. In searching online I came across information about the impending destruction of Whalom Park, an amusement park in Leominster, Mass.

I'd never been to the park, but I've long had a soft spot for amusement parks and carnivals, and lamented the fact that a great old place was going to be torn down. I decided to drive to the park before the wrecking ball started swinging, to gather some information for a possible article about the park and efforts by former employees and owners to save it from destruction.

I dragged my son, Owen, along (just as I drag Amelia along on Backside photo trips now), and drove around the perimeter of the park, looking at the old roller coaster and other rides, ticket booths and other buildings. I wrote a bunch of notes about the surrounding neighborhood and soaked in the atmosphere.

Here are a few of my observations, taken from my notes:

1) I noted restaurants including Sean Patrick's, Stella's Coffee Shoppe and the awesomely monikered Elvis's Hot Dog Palace.

2) There was an abandoned "bath house," with an active driving range across the way.

3) There were a few bars on Lakefront Ave., right next to the park: R.G. Scooter's, Captain's Lounge, and On the Rocks.

4) "The Black Hole rollercoaster hulks over the roadway," I wrote. "Burned out bldg (what was it? dance hall?) next to that."

I took some half-decent notes about the park and the area, but what I didn't do was take pictures. I didn't have a very good camera then, and the thought to record what I was seeing just didn't occur to me. These days if I think there's even a slight chance that I'll find some Backside-worthy shots to take, I pack my camera.

I never wrote the article. Now Whalom is gone, replaced by a housing development. That possibility must have been in the news at the time I visited, as I wrote in my notes, "w/ the views of the lake, the attraction for condos/homes/retail/restaurants is obvious."

In 2006, the park was torn down and new homes started going up. A lot of folks out there were devastated that Whalom couldn't be saved. I found a video that does a fantastic job of capturing the park in its decay, showing the roller coaster being torn down, and then showing what the various sites looked like after being junked and cleaned up.

Have Ladder, Will Work

By Mick Melvin:

While taking a Sunday drive in early spring, I came across something unexpected. I actually did a double take upon seeing a ladder cruising down the street in a Hartford neighborhood. I checked my rearview mirror and then stopped to take the first shot, because I didn’t want to miss it. I then drove to the stop light and got the next two shots.



In these troublesome times, I found it inspiring that this unknown cyclist was doing what it took to get the job done. It’s obvious he didn’t have the most adequate mode of transportation for the job, but he was making due. And I bet when he got to his final destination, he got that job done. I’m glad I took that drive and caught this backside moment.

This Old Truck

From Michelle Loya:

After being dragged to car show after car show as a little girl, I guess an interest in older cars became natural for me. It’s a treat to see an old car rather than a more modern car, which we are so used to seeing everyday. It’s interesting, however, to see the strides we’ve made in technology through automobiles.



I was lucky enough to stumble upon this old chevy in Woodstock, VT, one day. It was sitting alone in an empty lot. The building in the background was so old and worn, just as the truck was, and I felt as though I had stepped into the past. It was all so perfectly placed as if it had been done on purpose.

The reason I love photographing old cars is because I always imagine the beauty and life they once possessed. I can see this truck the way it was brand new and I can imagine someone being very proud to own this shiny red truck. It is sad to see it broken down after so many years of wear and tear, but it is also a reminder of the past. It is something that we are fortunate to see these days and something that may one day never be seen but in pictures.

Sleep Well

From Joe Viger:

Connect to the interweb with wi-fi, tune in some HD and enjoy the neon and motel goodness. They don't make 'em like this anymore.

Granby, Colorado
Elevation 7939 ft

Nuclear Dump Playground?

From Dave Brigham:

I have a thing for government conspiracies. UFO cover-ups, espionage, secret midnight dumping of nuclear materials (I have a concept album years in the making about the first topic, and many years ago wrote a song about the latter subject). Having lived in the Boston area for nearly 20 years, I've driven past the site depicted in these photos countless times, and wondered what dangers and mysteries lurked behind the vines clinging to the fence.

Located in Watertown, the 12-acre site was once part of the massive Watertown Arsenal complex, where the Department of Defense manufactured and stored munitions. This specific site was used as a staging facility for the leftover metals from the manufacture of armor-piercing rounds, which were made of spent uranium. The tailings were trucked to the site in oil and burned in order to stabilize them, and then shipped off-site for disposal (I'm getting a lot of this info from a recent Boston Globe article).

Contaminated like crazy, the area may one day become a recreation area with walking trails and restored wetlands. But first the US Army Corps of Engineers must complete tests on the soil to see how deep the nasty stuff is, and just what it comprises.

I can only imagine how long and involved the process of cleaning this site will be. I hope it gets turned into a beautiful and useful area, but part of me will miss driving by the site and speculating on just what sort of awful things are buried in the sludge.

Truck With No Name

By Kristen Alvarez:

(Backside of America friend Kristen Alvarez took the above photo and many more during a recent hiking trip in Utah. We welcome this great shot, and her write-up, and hope to see more from her in the future -- ed.)



This photo was taken just as my friends and I left the "town" of Thompson Springs, Utah, and headed towards Sego Canyon, where the petroglyphs were maybe 3 miles off the major highway of I-70. I had never heard of this place, nor had any of my friends, but my traveling partner Ben had heard of it. I did not know there was a ghost town further up the road or I would have gone to see it. Next time!

Dead-End Tracks, Part I

From Dave Brigham:

There's something about trains and railroad tracks that stir my mind. I become nostalgic for a time that I never witnessed, a time when freight trains delivered lumber to local yards, heavy machinery to factories and cattle to slaughterhouses. Passenger trains shuttled people across town or across the country.

I hearken back to my childhood, when I would often hear, and sometimes see, the freight train that ran through my hometown, Simsbury, CT. I wondered where the trains were coming from, where they were going, who was on them, what was on them. I wondered why, when I walked along the tracks, I saw so many liquor bottles strewn about (teenagers, surely, rather than hobos).

The abandoned trestle above, once part of the Watertown Branch of the Fitchburg Railroad, crosses the Charles River and a walking path less than a mile from my house. For a time, the branch served as the main passenger line between Boston and Waltham (thank you Wikipedia). The tracks were used until 2000 for freight service.

Tracks and trains bring to mind westward expansion, and exploration of new and exciting places. My wife and I took the kids to New York City a few weeks ago on the Acela and it was a great ride. Relaxing, sure, and filled with so many great views of the Connecticut coastline and the southern cities of the Nutmeg State. I was jonesing, however, because there were so many opportunities for Backside pictures, especially in unfortunate Bridgeport, but we were going way too fast for me to get any good pictures.

Anyway, in this age of turning old railroad beds into biking and hiking trails (an effort that I fully support), I'm glad that there are still some industrial age relics like this trestle hanging tough. I discover beauty in its solemn, sentinel-like presence. But I also wonder about unsavory types hanging out late at night. I see the old mattress on top and wonder whether somebody sleeps on it, or, well...my mind wanders into dark territory.

Got a Quarter?

From Joe Viger:

On a recent business trip in Sacramento, California, I stumbled on this shop that sold long forgotten records and jukeboxes. When I saw these great machines, I flashed back to being a kid in Berlin, NH, where many Friday nights my parents and I would go to Sinibaldi's Restaurant for pizza. It was the late '70s and I was a pre-teen sorting out my musical tastes for a quarter. "Hotel California" was the be-all and end-all jukebox song for me at the time. At least until the first singles from The Cars and Devo came around or if they happened to have a Kiss song. The quarter my dad gave me got three plays, but he never weighed in on song selection. My mom always got a vote and it was usually the AM radio hit of the day from the long-gone local station WBRL. She was partial to scary stuff like Tony Orlando and Dawn, Captain and Tennille or Starland Vocal Band.



Dave Brigham, friend and editor of The Backside of America, saw one of these pictures online and commented, "Ah, that makes me feel good." Even with a mash-up of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon," "Muskrat Love" and "Afternoon Delight" buzzing in my head, I have to agree. It makes me feel good too.

Check out more photos from Joe Viger at www.joeviger.com.