A Patina of Disease

The smell of feces and rotten food wafted down the stairwell on this blazing hot June day, giving away the fact that a small camp of people was residing inside. I was probably a bit cranky from lugging my gear through the heat, and I always find it wise to avoid people in places like these, so we moved on to another wide open door at the old hospital. This area was much older than the first with its inhabitants, and silent as a grave.

Setting out with my camera, it was apparent that there wasn't much left in here, but it sure had been empty for a while. A few remaining pieces of furniture hinted at a closure during the 1970s - an excellent number of decades for rust, paint, and crumbling plaster to do their thing. The rooms were quite small but one could see the effort to create a beautiful space was certainly made. The elegant touches on the trim work, tiles, and molding were evident in the airy rooms, with plenty of natural sunlight to go around. At times, it was difficult to believe I was in a hospital. My mind wandered away from the heat and focused on the amazing scenes of decay laid out before me.