This dormitory was one of those amazing finds. It was one of those days that my friend Michael and I found ourselves driving around, looking, but not really looking. Hoping to pass something worth getting out of the car for, but content with simply enjoying the drive. Michael and I had another building in mind the day we found this hospital building, but upon closer inspection of said building, we opted to drive around the neighborhood.
Not far from our intended target sat this mess of neatly-manicured abandonment. Its facade was somewhat well maintained. The grass in front had been recently cut. Many of the windows were tightly boarded, but a few hinted at their former use. The dorms are part of a larger complex. One side of the building is still connected to the operational complex. Indeed it is possible to see through the abandoned building into the operational building it's connected to.
Excited for the unexpected find, but apprehensive about the operational aspect of the complex, Michael and I leave the car and tread cautiously around the building. We search for an inconspicuous entrance. It seems we might be able to slip in through a basement window. No. It seems like a sole unlocked door might lead into the building. No, this door leads no where. Maybe a window around front will extended its gratitude and allow us to enter. No. We are stuck, Michael and I, staring at our only option. A lone window, halfway between the bottom and top of a staircase. The window is too high for me to reach. This will be a collaborative affair.
Did Michael give me a lift or did he hold out a hand to pull me in? I can't remember now. Our admission into the building is somewhat shaky, but goes off without loss of life or limb. I was left wondering, however, if the patients we saw peering out a window earlier witnessed our bravado. This thought stays with me as Michael and I uncover the secrets left behind in this moderately sized hospital dormitory.
The peeling and flaking paint inside is overwhelming. It's everywhere, a definitive signature of this building. The lack of records and identifying information is not surprising. It's something I've come to expect of buildings recently. It's almost better this way. Past inhabitants of buildings are respected this way.
Instead of files and records, the dorms are filled with outdated pieces of medical equipment (and flaking paint). There are skeletal beds that litter the hallways, and rotten mattresses that litter the rooms. The building is four stories high, and each level is similar to the next. The basement doesn't have much to offer, but if I remember correctly, it was lined with dirt in some places. The general feel to the place is moderately comforting, but I still don't want to stray far from my friend. Michael and I explore each of the floors, poking through the rooms in a disorderly manner. We each stop in the hallway that connects to one of the operational buildings. I consider the view from an obscure angle, wondering about the people on the other side. Would anyone wonder about us?
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