Chewed Up, Spit Out

From Kristen Smith:

It's good to welcome Kristen Smith back to the Backside! She's contributed some great stuff over the years (I've linked to some at the bottom of this post), and this post is no different. Amazing shots from Wyoming and Idaho. Enjoy! -- D.B.

As you drive into the Gros Ventre section of Grand Teton National Park you'll come across this abandoned homestead with a world-class view. I don't know who tried to ranch here or what he tried to raise, but Wyoming chewed him up and spit him out.

On our way into the Jedediah Smith National Forest in Idaho, I saw this abandoned cabin on a spur road. There were no trespassing signs up so I did what I could with it. I like the black empty sockets of the windows and so playing with the processing seemed to work well to show up the bleak quality of the scene.

Another semi-cliche shot of Grand Teton through the window of a derelict cabin in the Bridger-Teton national forest.

Here are some other posts of Kristen's:

Demolition -- Par for the Course

Nice Little House

Roadside Attractions?

Lost Bomber

Digesting Deer Island

From Dave Brigham:

As someone who didn't grow up near Boston, I associate Deer Island with its current use as a waste water treatment plant. Over the last few hundred years, however, the island has served many purposes, some ignominious, others more humane. I'm sure that before the Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts the native people used the island (which hasn't technically been an island since a hurricane in 1938 filled in a channel) for fishing and perhaps even hunting.

During King Philip's War in the 1670's, according to Wikipedia, the British interned as many as 1,000 Indians on the island, many of whom died. In the 1840's a hospital was established there to deal with the flood of Irish immigrants. In ensuing decades a poorhouse was built; by the end of the 19th century that facility was turned into a prison.

According to a report by Boston radio station WBUR, the remains of that prison, the Deer Island House of Correction, "are no more than a small wall dubbed the 'Great Wall of China' by local workers."

A few times in the last 20 years I've observed Deer Island from Boston Harbor (and other times from the air, coming into Logan Airport) and was struck by its massive, egg-shaped "digesters," which break down waste. I had no idea until recently that there are public walking trails on the island.

After spending some time spotting planes at a nearby beach in Winthrop with my son, Owen, I suggested we drive toward what I thought were giant sculptures I could see off to the south. Just a few minutes later we approached the area, and I realized what I was seeing were not sculptures, but a smokestack and a water tank on Deer Island (hey, I'm a writer, not an engineer).

We parked and walked around for a bit. I was surprised to see the remnants of a pier.

I was even more surprised to climb a steep, paved path and get a look at this:

Owen and I got our final surprise when we turned around and looked across the harbor.

I definitely plan to return to Deer Island and get more pictures.

Crumpled Paper Company

From Heidi Waugaman-Page:

While on furlough in the summer of 2012 I landed a freelance design job for a small newspaper in Chester, Vermont. Every day I would drive by many factories, train stations and other buildings being consumed by nature and vandals in the run-down city of Bellows Falls. The town had obviously been a hub at one time with beautiful, large Victorians peeking through the trees. Today Bellow Falls has a drug and crime problem, so I didn't feel as brave as usual exploring by myself. So one weekend my husband and I took a drive up to start hitting some of the areas I had driven by while road exploring.

The Robertson Paper Company was my first stop. I explored around the building and took some outside shots before moving onto other buildings in the town. It looked pretty dangerous so I didn't attempt to go inside. There was a part of the building that looked like maybe homeless people were squatting in because there were some patio chairs out on part of the roof. So we decided to leave after that.

This part of the story ends here.

Bring it forward to fall 2014. My artist/photographer friend, Rick, and I had been talking about going on an adventure. I had been talking about getting back to Bellows Falls so he could check out all the great rust and decay of this worn-out city. We headed out on the coldest day and thought we would have enough time to hit many of the sites. Little did we know that we would spend the whole day just at the Robertson Paper Company Mill.

We arrived, parked and started exploring. Rick suggested that we get inside if possible. Then he noticed a woman looking out a window. We both figured it was homeless people in there. Then the door opened and a woman asked us not to park in front of the loading dock, due to deliveries. Rick and I looked at each other in disbelief that anyone would be delivering anything to an abandoned mill. I apologized and said we loved their building.

Her company was Robertson Printing Co. They had slowly lost more and more printing jobs overseas. They were only printing tissue paper for specific brands through the holidays. The town bought their property and because it was too expensive to move their equipment, so they were walking away.

I have learned to take chances, so I asked if there would be any way that we could come in to take pictures. The woman welcomed us to come in and explore but first gave us a stern WARNING: "Be careful, because the place is collapsing, and if you get hurt, you broke in and we don't know you." We were so thankful and giddy with excitement. She asked us to just check back in before we left so that they had a body count as to who was in the building and who left.

This is just a small taste of all the great finds we discovered. Enjoy.

The Price of Gas

From Dave Brigham:

The smokestack in the background tells you that you're in an industrial area. Well, you would've been if you were standing here 100 years ago. The brick buildings that once stood on this site in Waltham, Mass., were torn down years ago, replaced by a restaurant, movie theater, parking garage and public housing. The smokestack is on the former Francis Cabot Lowell Mill, one of America's first textile mills. The mill is now home to senior housing, the Charles River Museum of Industry and Innovation and a public Internet center.

The area in this photo between the fence and the tree line -- that's what grabs my interest. While all else around the site has been developed, this place remains vacant, because it will require some major clean-up.

This is Cooper Street, a short, dog-legged piece of road that runs off Pine Street and behind Ristorante Marcellino. This is where the Waltham Gas Light Company once stood. According to Wikipedia, this area was "one of the oldest industrial complexes on the south side of the city, with brick buildings dating to 1854-55, not long after the founding of" the gas company.

In 1902, the gas company acquired the old Parmenter Crayon Company building, according to the Waltham Museum web site. Waltham Gas at that point became owner of the entire Cooper Street area west of the Watertown railroad tracks.

Just seven years later, according to the museum web site, Waltham Gas shut down, "transferring its electrical business to Boston Edison, which still operates an electrical substation in a nearby former company building. The other company buildings were converted to other manufacturing uses, and were demolished in 2007."

I've been unable to find out who owns the vacant lot, but I did locate information about the site, a place that I've wondered about for years as I've walked by or parked in the nearby lot for a movie or for dinner.

According to a Bentley University research paper about the nearby Moody Street commercial sector, the City of Waltham doesn't own the property, which "is believed to be the site of heavy waste contamination." The report states that a chemical has been placed on the property to prevent contaminants from spreading to the nearby Charles River. The Bentley team estimated in its report six years ago that scrubbing the site might cost between $1 million and $3 million.

The city and the property owner have apparently been fighting about who should pay for the cleanup. The city evidently would like to use the site as additional parking for the busy Moody Street shopping and dining district.

In the meantime, the Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation is doing its part to beautify the area. Directly across the river from this site, in the shadow of that smokestack, the DCR is connecting an existing part of the Charles River Greenway on Elm Street by building a boardwalk under a bridge and connecting it to a new path where until recently there were abandoned train tracks leading to a trestle.

Here's what the site looked like shortly after the DCR started:

I know I have a shot of the old trestle that used to hang over this site as it crossed the river between the Francis Cabot Lowell mill building and a car wash, stopping just short of the Cooper Street site in question. But I can't find it. I did dig up a shot I took of the trash that used to fill the site where the DCR is now building the boardwalk.

Observant Backside fans will recall I posted this shot in January 2011. Who tosses a perfectly good acoustic guitar down a hill?

So, with the state beautifying the area just across the river from the Cooper Street property and tearing down the old trestle (which I suppose some saw as an eyesore; I thought it gave a nice patina to the area), I imagine there will be pressure to settle the differences over the cleanup and move forward to put the old Waltham Gas site to some sort of use.

Here's a Google Maps view of the property (first time here on the Backside that I've tried this).

The site in question sits directly behind (or above, in this map) the building marked Ristorante Marcellino. Just under the white box in the upper left corner that I wish I could get rid of, there is the outline of what I believe was a rather large gas tank.

I understand the City of Waltham would like to use this area to expand parking, but it would be nice if it were used as pure green space.

Get Thee to a Nunnery

From Dave Brigham:

I find it hard to square the popular, albeit outdated image of nuns as ruler-wielding autocrats, buttoned up from head to toe in black and white, with the smiling, geriatric faces of women in soft, cotton blouses in many pleasant colors on the web site for the Sisters of St. Joseph of Boston. Still, the nuns have power.

The sisters have been contemplating for many years the sale of their former convent in Newton, Mass.

Part of a large private educational complex, the nunnery sits on property that holds significance in many ways for the history of Newton. Built in 1965, the convent sits at a 90-degree angle to the building that houses the former Aquinas College. Most recently, that building housed the Rashi School, a private Reform Jewish K-8 independent school. The property also includes a private Catholic elementary school and the Walnut Park Montessori School preschool, which are not for sale.

I believe the Sisters initially used the Montessori School mansion as a convent, before moving into the current site in the '60s.

Deeded to the Sisters of St. Joseph in 1921 by Joseph Flanagan, the property was once part of a much larger estate with important historical ties. The first permanent settler in Newton, John Jackson, once owned a large parcel of land that includes the site where the convent sits, according to the Newton Historical Commission. The Jackson family operated a candle factory here in the 19th century.

From 1862-1893 the property was owned by John C. Potter and his family, and was known as the Potter Estate.

The convent and school building combined total roughly 95,000 square feet, with the convent comprising 20,720 square feet. The convent includes 34 dormitory-style rooms, a chapel and covered parking, according to a real estate listing I dug up online. I don't believe there are any nuns living there.

The property has been on the market for several years, with the Sisters turning down dozens upon dozens of commercial and institutional developers because the owners want to keep the site as a community resource of some sort (for a great report on this process, see this Boston Globe article written by my neighbor back in March 2008).

I'll keep an eye on this property and post any updates.

Maryland Mansion

From Dave Brigham:

It's always nice to add a new name to the roster of contributors here at the Backside of America. My brother, Steve, recently sent along a few pictures and a quick story of a hike he took with his kids near their home in Bowie, Maryland.

"When school got canceled last Monday, we hiked out our back yard, through a long open, overgrown field (on an old horse farm) to find a good sledding hill. We came across an old abandoned farm and mansion that didn't look like it had been lived in for many years. Not much good sleddding (only 2 inches), but quite an adventure!"

Because I'm a research geek, I had to find out more about this place. And, as often happens, I spent way more time than I thought I would, and found some information that I don't trust. Still, I love how often persistence pays off when doing research online.

One real estate web site lists the house as being built in 1956, but as you can see, it looks more modern than that. I'm guessing the place was totally overhauled, or that some part of the place was built that long ago. I also found conflicting reports about the size of the place, with one site indicating 4,470 square feet, and another 7,200. Either way, it's a big place.

The place sold for $1.45 million in 1999, and has an estimated value of $1.57 million, because the estate comprises more than 83 acres, and backs up to a small nature preserve. There is an in-ground pool and a few other buildings on the property, including an old barn.

My brother indicates that the land had been rezoned for an active adult community before the 2008 recession. At some point a church bought the land and rented the land for horse owners, but that church evidently filed for bankruptcy. So now the property is listed for sale under the name The Enclave at Beechfield, with a special permit allowing 400 units (250 condo, 150 townhouses) for a retirement community." I'm assuming The Enclave at Beechfield is the name of the entity formed to originally develop the land. I'll check in with my brother for any updates.

Old Canyons and Tunnels of Washington State

From Dave Brigham:

My good friend Andy moved from our hometown of Simsbury, CT, to Seattle more than 20 years ago. We see each other once every year or two, and keep in touch somewhat regularly on the phone and via text and email. Like many people over the years, he often tells me he wants to contribute to this blog. He hasn't snapped any photos for the Backside yet, but he did forward links to some cool places in Washington State.

Here's a link to a bunch of photos of Monte Cristo, an isolated former mining town in the Cascade Range.

Here's a link to a bunch of links (sorry) of photos of Robe Canyon Historic Park, which comprises an abandoned rail system once used for the mining and logging industries, a lime kiln and of course miles of great hiking.

Here's a link to some more Robe Canyon photos.

Here's a link to a photo and some information about the Iron Horse Trail tunnel.

Closed Circle

From Dave Brigham:

The Circle Cinema, which straddles Brookline and the city of Boston's Brighton neighborhood, was born the same year I was. Unfortunately, the theater where I've seen many movies during my 20+ years in the Boston area died at age 43. The cause of death was chronic under-attendance brought on by the Internet and fancy-shmancy competitors offering full-body, in-seat massage service, free booze IV's and robotic auto detailing.

Or something like that.

Although I saw plenty of movies at the Circle, the film that sticks out the most is the one I saw for only about five minutes. Harken back with me to the fall of 1990. My girlfriend (now wife), Beth, and I had recently moved from York, Maine, to an apartment on 69 Chiswick Road in Brighton. She had recently enrolled at the New England School of Law, and I was temping in downtown Boston. We went out a lot on weekends with our friends, to bars, pool halls, restaurants, bowling alleys and, of course, movies.

One Friday or Saturday night we walked the short distance to the theater (in Cleveland Circle) and bought tickets for Martin Scorsese's gangster epic, "Goodfellas." We waited in line for a few minutes buying popcorn (for her) and peanut M&M's (for me) before walking upstairs to the theater.

We found two seats in the crowded theater and settled in. After the previews, I ripped open my snack. Just around the time that Joe Pesci stabs the life out of a guy stuffed in the trunk of Ray Liotta's car, Beth turned to me and said, "I don't feel too good."

I thought maybe the violence was too much for her. Being the sensitive guy that I am, I said something like, "Oh, you'll be fine. Drink some water. Take a deep breath."

But the longer she sat there, the worse she felt. So we had to walk out of the movie and walk slowly back to our apartment. I don't believe Beth threw up, but she didn't feel any better once we got home. It wasn't the movie, it was a bug of some sort, or nerves related to something in law school.

I can't believe the place closed six years ago. I took the picture above a few years back and had forgotten about it. But I read recently that after a few years of back-and-forth between developers, the cities of Brookline and Boston, and abutting residents of both communities, a plan has been approved to tear down the theater and replace it with a hotel, apartments, restaurants and retail space.

Click here to read about the plan.

What's Sadder Than a Closed BBQ Joint?

From Dave Brigham:

I only pulled this door open once, many years ago. I believe I had ribs with baked beans and cole slaw. Or perhaps a pulled-pork sandwich with cornbread and dirty rice. Doesn't matter. What matters is that Jake's Dixie Roadhouse in Waltham, Mass., closed four-and-a-half years ago, and nothing has taken its place.

According to an article in the Daily News Tribune, the restaurant, which was known as Jake & Earl's Dixie BBQ until Earl retired, closed after 10 years due to "family health issues." These days, I get my barbecue from Blue Ribbon in Newton, and, on occasion, Redbone's in Somerville. If Jake & Earl's were open, I'd surely hit that once in a while.

The other retailers in this one-story building, including a florist and a high-end toy store, have also cleared out in recent years. Four years ago, a developer announced that it had bought the building, and announced plans to raze it and construct luxury condos, commercial space and a restaurant. There has been no sign of demolition or construction of late.

I say the developer should open this old restaurant space one last time and let folks in to toast the good times.

Palladium Boots: Explorer Series, Episode 1

From Dave Brigham:

I forgot about Palladium Boots, the French company that has associated itself with urban exploration (see October 10, 2010, "Reppin' for the Motor City" and October 21, 2010, "These Boots Were Made for Explorin'," each of which contains a few urbex videos).

The company has enlisted folks from around the world to make short videos "highlighting disused, abandoned, or otherwise little-known areas of their city." Below is the first in the series, which features New York City. The videos focus a little too much on the boots of the hipsters who are walking around, but I guess that comes with the guerrilla marketing territory.

I'll highlight other videos here once in a while, while I consider how to get in on this action, or at least get Palladium to sponsor my work.

Another Lost City Ghost: UPDATE

From Dave Brigham:

Nineteen months ago I posted about the former Circle Supply building in Watertown, Mass. (see May 13, 2013, "Another Lost City Ghost"). The building was empty at the time (it also once housed the Textile Thread Company, among other companies), but given the amount of redevelopment of once-decrepit sites in the neighborhood of late, I figured it was only a matter of time before a developer snapped up this site.

Just outside busy Watertown Square and close to many bus lines, the building is in the section of town that my wife's brother-in-law accurately dubbed the Lost City (see March 2, 2013, "Rebuilding the Lost City: SECOND UPDATE"). That description isn't as accurate these days.

Well, you know how this is gonna end. I drove by a month ago and discovered that the buildings have been torn down and gravel and dirt fill has been trucked in.

(Remnant of the building's front walk)

(A peek through the fence)

(The reality)

(Here's what the building looked like before the wrecking ball started swinging.)

In searching for information about the razing/redevelopment process, I found a nice informational piece on the web site for Longleaf Lumber, an antique and reclaimed lumber company. Longleaf sourced a number of old-growth Heart Pine timbers from the Circle Supply building, despite interior water damage and the demolition process, according to the company's web site.

Longleaf indicates that the developer's architect places the age of the Circle Supply building around 1925, with several additions being tacked on in ensuing years. Longleaf, however, believes the presence of "such tight-grained Heart Pine beams" suggests that at least part of the building was built prior to 1925.

The web site indicates that approximately 66 residential units, seven live-work spaces and 143 parking spaces will rise on the site.