Near Selmer Tennessee there is an abandoned church. My friend Jay Farrell and I have been using this church, and others for night photography for a few years. Yes, this means we have shot these locations several times. Why would we go back to a site we’ve been before? Because nothing is ever really abandoned forever. Abandoned sites evolve, or perhaps I should say they never quite stop changing.
I love seeing the changes that take place in since my last visit. But that isn’t the only reason we revisit these sites. Locations like these allow us to experiment with night photography without interference.
The following photos are just a few night shots that I’ve taken. I hope you enjoy looking at them, if you can please leave a comment, and feel free to share my site.
I’d heard of the Graffiti bridge before, and I’d seen photos of it as well. Waking up early one Sunday morning I decided to go look for and find the thing. I grabbed my camera, my back pack, coffee, snacks and because it was raining, I grabbed my previously unworn rain coat. Off I went. I had looked up the location of the bridge on Google, and while it wasn’t particularly far from me the road to the location was curvy, and interrupted by construction sites. I won’t complain though. The largest construction site was open and had a clean porta-a-potty. What can I say, I’d drank way too much coffee.
I’d been driving up a narrow road looking for a road that no longer existed. At some point in the last 25yrs or so the bridge’s road had been closed off. I had unknowingly past the road I had been looking for. Doubling back the way I’d come I creeped forward at maybe 5 miles per hour, with my head turned to the left. There! There was the break in the roadside woods I had missed. Backing up and then turning onto the disused road I drove forward. Have you ever been down an abandoned road? Grass, tall weeds, bushes and large chunks of asphalt covered every inch of the road surface. Gravel roads are actually smoother. I figure I had driven about an eighth of a mile before coming to a line of large, heavy boulders, and a sign stating the road was closed. Nothing like Captain Obvious leaving behind a clue, eh?
From the top of a boulder I could see the forgotten road went on for another eighth of a mile or more. The pavement had become eerily beautiful, a riot of green had nearly taken over the surface, but the crumbled and cracked asphalt could still be seen, and traversing the path wasn’t too bad. Red, purple, and yellow flowers adorned the tops of the green expanse. The rain which was coming down intermittently only added to the mystery of the road. All of it was wet from a nearly continuous downpour.From the top of a boulder I could see the forgotten road went on for another eighth of a mile or more. The pavement had become eerily beautiful, a riot of green had nearly taken over the surface, but the crumbled and cracked asphalt could still be seen, and traversing the path wasn’t too bad. Red, purple, and yellow flowers adorned the tops of the green expanse. The rain which was coming down intermittently only added to the mystery of the road. All of it was wet from a nearly continuous downpour.
I hopped down from the boulder and made my way up the narrow black asphalt trail. Occasionally I had to push aside larger weeds, and I took my time reading and looking at the graffiti that peeked out from the weeds and flowers. The trail ended up at another collection of boulders and a well worn mound of reddish dirt with its own skinny path. It was up this path I climbed and at the top of the mound I was rewarded with my first glance at the abandoned bridge. Tree branches surrounded the mound I stood upon, as well as the apron of the bridge. Carefully I made my way dow to the bridge, and once I made my way to the bottom I took a second to take in all that was before me. On the left the bridge was covered with a mix of lichen, water and of course graffiti. The soldiers of the bridge’s rail had been spray painted many times, the right was just as heavily painted. The graffiti made its way from the apron I stood upon and crawled all the way to the far end of the structure where it ended in another mound of boulders and dirt.
I took a little more time to inspect the surface of the bridge before me. One may think I may have been acting a bit over cautious but past experiences have taught me that there’s a lot of wisdom in the old saying “Look before you leap”. When it comes to exploring abandoned places it’s easy to fall victim to unseen dangers. Falling twenty or thirty feet into the river below would have been unpleasant, but falling onto the footings of the bridge would have been truly traumatic. Personally I try to avoid traumatic falls. After exploring the asphalt before me I finally picked up my camera and began to take photos. I walked and photographed the bridge’s colorful graffiti and fell into a peaceful state of being. In my mind I could picture setting up a small camp at the closest apron of the bridge. Nothing too fancy, a cot, a chair, and definitely a card table with a cooler filled with gatorade. Oh, and something to munch on. I particularly enjoyed the views the river. There were more than a few shoots I imagined myself doing at this location. I may yet end up doing so. After an hour of so I realized that the rain was getting worse, and decided to head out. Packing my camera back into my bag, I turned around and made my way back the way I’d come.
Dear readers, I hope you enjoyed this adventure of mine. Please feel free to look at my other posts and if you would subscribe and leave a comment or two.
July 6th was a Sunday that saw me and my buddy Jay Farrell cruising the back roads of Southern Illinois. We were on Miller City road going around a bend and considering going back to the crossroads to take a different road. We’d just voiced this when we came to an abrupt stop. To our right was a farmer’s field and smack dab in the middle of that field was a river barge! No, I’m serious, a barge was sitting in a field completely landlocked.
We hoped out of Marvin, Jay’s Kia Soul and after a bit of deliberation decided to approach the barge. Down the side of a ditch, across a muddy water channel, and up a gently sloping rise found us standing 50 yards or so from the rusting hulk. Splitting up Jay and I began exploring as much as we could. Later on we would learn that the barge we’d photographed was one of three barges that had landed up in that field after a flood had opened up a levy. Look at the size of the barge and think about there being two others at one point. Could we have gone closer? Maybe, but we were in some farmer’s crop and nether Jay or myself were keen on tromping on the crop anymore than we had. I hope you like the photos. Leave a comment or two.
280 Tons without cargo. Let that sink in. The fact that two other barges were here originally is stunning. I have to wonder if the barge was full of water making this a huge swimming pool, or was it empty? If you like my blog and want to see more of my work, look around, enjoy. Oh, and look for my book Forgotten Tennessee on Amazon.com!
…Places where time behaves strangely: Locations where time doesn’t follow a linear progression, creating a sense of disjointedness and detachment from conventional reality”. -Stephen King
Trip one.
I’d never heard of Cairo, pronounced Kay-ro, until I came across a YouTube video. Being a photographer and explorer of all things abandoned my curiosity was sparked. I contacted Jay Farrell, my fellow explorer, photographer to set up a road trip to Cairo. Our first trip to explore Cairo was in the tail end of December 2024. The sky was a mix of sunshine and occasional cloud coverage with just enough rainfall left on the ground to add a moody vibe to the day. We crossed the Ohio and then into the town itself. Desolation. That was the first word to come to mind as we entered Cairo. Building after building was run down, damaged, burned, collapsing and many others were already in piles. There were plenty of empty lots that had the faded outlines of buildings that were no more. We passed through Cairo, and were left with a feeling of wonder. We were in what had once been a thriving town and was now a honey pot for those who explore abandoned places.
“There’s no gas stations in Cairo. Best get that and anything else you may need before going back”. This was the word of warning we received at a Dollar General located not far from Cairo. From what we’d already seen, Jay and I could believe it. Across from the Dollar General was a vacant lot filled with debris. Broken toys, trash, tires, and a run down trailer sat upon the lot and in my opinion was a fitting starting point.
A little further on down the road we stopped at another empty lot, and while we wanted to check out a boarded up building near what had to have once been a gas station at one point, but neither of us had dressed in high waders. The lots where we stood were water logged and overgrown. While it wasn’t exactly cold, it was chilly. The thought of losing a shoe to the swampy ground just wasn’t at all appealing.
Have you ever been on a roadtrip looking for abandoned places? You drive slowly when you’re on the hunt. Here we were surrounded by the abandoned and we were still driving slowly. You’ll never get the true feel of exploring by driving fast. To one side of the main highway we spied a secondary road and took it where we came across two antique firetrucks, an empty motel. and more.
I imagine at one point this might have been a charming motel. A now filled in pool sat to one side, while the roof had collapsed. Impromptu skylights gave the remaining rooms a gloomy cast.
Yes, the office door was wide open but carry a clerk was to be found.
Wait, the motel had a few remaining guests. I don’t think they bothered with calling for room service.
A stone’s throw from the motel sat what appeared to be a still functioning auto repair shop, and a curious looking collection of lights posts.
“We’re on the road to nowhere” – The Talking Heads. Yes, that song popped into my head while standing in front of this strange passage.
Once we’d reentered Cairo we immediately drove by another empty motel. It had fared no better than the Garden Inn.
I doubt the last occupant left a good YELP review.
Parking. That was an issue but not for the same reasons that might be in more populated cities. In Nashville the biggest problem with parking is the lack of places to park, and the outrageous prices that accompany for profit parking lots. No, here is Cairo there was plenty of places to park, too many places, really. What were the odds that our vehicle would not be vandalized and or stolen? How far could we wander off from the car? Turns out, this was not worth worrying about. We spent hours in Cairo, walking around and not once were we or our vehicle accosted by anyone. Once we felt secure as far as leaving the car alone we were better able to get lost in photographing and exploring Cairo.
These gilded streets were paved in pyrite
Cairo is a shame. At one point the town was prosperous, and beautiful. And there have been attempts to bring life back into Cairo. There are boulevards where hand laid bricks replaced asphalt. Businesses whose entrances are decorated with Art Deco tiles. Iron light posts are plentiful, and many still work. But the businesses are vacant, or demolished, and the light posts illuminate empty roads, sidewalks and lots. The emptiness of Cairo, the lack of people, or purpose is palpable. Walking the streets of Cairo makes one feel like they’ve stepped into some type of ghost world, and if one is not careful, you may become another ghost in a dead town full of them. Take the Gem theatre for instance. Its beautiful marque looks fresh enough that you’d not be surprised to see it light up! To watch the bulbs shine and pulsate rhythmically. But the boarded up doors say otherwise. The gigantic fissure that bisects the Gem’s wall proclaim the theatre’s death, hell, an enormous tree is growing out of that fissure.
The alley running next to the Gem Theatre.
The fissure is hard to miss.
Yes, a person can and many have walked right into the breached wall. Nature is relentless
Next door is the defunct Chamber of Commerce. The door to the Chamber of Commerce sits wide open, debris can be easily be seen from the sidewalk. And across the street? Across the street are the remains of some of the buildings I had mentioned, the ones with Art Deco tile decor laid into their entrances.
What caused the death of Cairo, Illinois? There were a few factors, but the biggest of them was its inherent racism. Don’t worry, I’m not about to start banging on about racism. This isn’t that kind of a blog. No, my blog is a POV of my experience in Cairo. However, Between Two Rivers is an excellent and detailed explanation on how racism destroyed Cairo, you can click on the link to watch it, which I strongly suggest you do. https://youtu.be/Ita42KgBY-8?si=HNURA1eWnzo-dJzp if you have the stomach for it. If anything Cairo and the its documentary could be seen as a cautionary tale for the US itself.
I hope that if you’ve read this far that you have enjoyed the trip so far. I’ll be following this up with images from the Cairo waterfront, as well as images from some of the houses and more. In the meantime I’d also like to bring attention to my book, Forgotten Tennessee. It’s available in bookstores, and of course amazon. Click on the link to order. https://a.co/d/5z9S5aq
I’ve not posted on this site in quite sometime. Why? Where’d I go? Did I lose the keys to my site? Yes, to that last one, in a way. In 2021 I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Prostate Cancer. After healing from that I had another medical issue come up. I had to have both knees replaced. Walking had become an agony. Between the cancer recovery, and recovering from the knee replacement surgeries I had so much going on that I simply lacked the energy or the means to renew the ownership of FogottenTennessee.com.
That loss was weighed on me since it happened. Yet here I am on my site again. I will do my utmost to update this site at least once every week. I certainly have the content to do so. Old rusty cars, spooky cemeteries, rotting homes, factories, and even entire abandoned town. Stick around and let’s explore the abandoned together.
The massive Cooling Tower dominates everything for miles.
Hi, ordinarily I’d post a ton of photos of this exploration, and an equal mount of words describing the day. However, the Hartsville Nuclear plant is going to be in my next book, so I have reign in my usual chattiness. Without further gilding the lily, here are a few nibbles of what’s to come. By the way I’d like to throw out a big thank you to Chris Gear for being my guide.
Don’t be fooled, that tower is still quite a hike from where this shot was taken. The bottoms of my foot itched from standing above this. This felt and looked like a set from a SCIFI movie. Yes, we walked through this. A little closer but still farther away than I’d thought.
And that is all I can show you, for now. Be patient, the full tale of the Hartsville Nuclear Plant exploration will be in the next book.
Forgotten Tennessee is a photographic exploration of those places we no longer work at, inhabit or just simply forgotten about. This book’s photos tell answer the questions we all have when we drive by empty houses, factories, and over grown cemeteries. Forgotten Tennessee is a great conversation starter and makes a wonderful addition to your coffee table, or book shelf. Pick up a copy for yourself or those that are hard to shop for. You can pick up your copy at most book stores and of course on Amazon by hitting the link.
Jay and myself had decided to take a trip to Alabama in search of abandoned gold to photograph. We were giving the back roads of Montgomery, Alabama a second shot and so far had come up empty. This isn’t to say we’d not spotted some abandoned places.
We’d seen a school that looked abandoned but alas, it wasn’t. There were more than a few abandoned places on the side of 231 as well but they didn’t meet our standard of “Abandoned Gold”. They just looked broken. All that changed as we went down a hill and saw to our right a truly odd sight. A concrete Yurt? It was all I could think to call the rounded structure we’d passed. Slamming on the brakes we came to a stop and did a quick u-turn back to the drive way to this curious sight!
Small windows crowned the top of the building, small, almost like arrow slits. This was, to say the least, a bit odd and made even more so by the very ordinary deserted trailer sitting back behind the circular house.
I picked my way through the overgrowth to the narrow doorway, but since the door wasn’t closed I didn’t need to knock or push it open to gain entry to a sight that was much weirder than the building’s outside. Immediately upon entering the “Round House” were two deep hand dug pits. Easily eight to ten feet deep they were. The pit to my left was topped by an overhanging structure that I could only assume held a bedroom of some sort, maybe more than one. Trash and assorted debris filled the pit.
The pit to the right wasn’t quite as deep and had hand carved steps leading into it. The shape of the pit and the steps leading into it screamed “Pool”. On the treads of the steps were old copies of National Geographic, and other assorted publications, yellowed with age.
The steps were hand carved from the native soil.
Crumbling between these pits I found myself walking across a narrow bridge that looked to slowly be crumbling. I cross this bridge all the while shooting and hoping this would not be the day the dirt bridge would give u the ghost. Being buried under hundreds of pounds of red Alabama dirt in a bizarre house in the wilds wasn’t my idea of an ideal death. Luckily for myself and Jay the dirt was strong and well packed.
A giant spool that once held electrical wire was now a table. A loft for living quarters? Who knows?
I found myself looking around a wide-open space with a peaked ceiling that maybe was fifteen feet or more above us supported by a lone metal pole. There were large gaping holes in the ceiling and the light coming through made me feel a bit more comfortable and I began to move about shooting at whatever caught my attention.
An old television sat upon a pile of debris almost directly under the holes in the roof. The placement of the blank screen staring up into the large holes brought to mind an altar of some sort. Weird, I know. You had to be there. A giant wooden reel that had once held metal cable around its girth had been painted and re-purposed as a makeshift table. Upon this sat a bloated old tome, a Bible, other knick-knacks were strewn about.
An old family album lay open, some kind of fake house plant lay next to this. Nothing too creepy, if you disregarded the body-less Cupid’s head that was no bigger than a Cue ball. No, not creepy at all.
Jay and I kept shooting as we explored through the Round House’s rubble all the while voicing our opinions on what this place may have been years ago. Was it somebody’s attempt at a swank bachelor’s pad? Or was it meant to be a place for kids and teens to hang out? Could it have at one point been a Biker’s Club? We had no way to know. All we did know was the place had been empty a very long time. More than one TV from the late 80’s lay broken on the floor. The National Geographics went back to the 1970’s. There were some old computers too. They were dinosaurs whose drives used five-and-a-half-inch floppy disks (Google this kids if you don’t know what these were). At the end we walked out of the Round House with questions but no answers. But really, that’s part of the attraction to finding “Abandoned Gold”. Not every mystery has an answer, and that’s fine. It allows our minds to play.
Forgotten Tennessee’s Jerry Winnett, and Jay Farrell, went south to Alabama again.
In the beginning of June we’d gone to Montgomery, Alabama in search of “Abando Gold” but came up empty. On our way back we stopped in Birmingham and found ourselves looking at a 9 story, empty hospital. Huge, was the best way to describe the building, hell the campus really. Pulling into a space in front of the hospital we got our equipment ready and with cameras clicking we began to explore. I’ll tell you more about that initial trip later. It wasn’t a lengthy exploration. We had’nt brought flashlights and after about an hour of exploring we deemed it too dangerous to go on without better light than what was offered by our phones.
The grounds outside were dry, the inside of the hospital however was at times water-logged.
No, this is just a teaser. I will be writing a much longer entry about Carraway later. For now I am going to write a small tale of warning about exploring abandoned places. The dangers of exploration are plenty. Venomous spiders, bugs that like to suck blood, and rats of course. I and a friend once came across a pit bull in an abandoned structure, luckily it was a friendly dog. Unseen nails are a constant danger, they can go through a show like a knife through butter. Glass, metal splinters, insulin needles, and more are a real threat to every part of your body as are weak floors that can drop you into a world of hurt. Ceilings, stairwells, and walls are also a concern. What stood just fine for years can without warning collapse.
At some point a rather large generator had been dropped upon the roof above this section.
People. Yes, people are a danger that is seldom considered enough. This can be a terrible mistake, fatal even. In my explorations I have come across squatters, travelers and assorted other homeless people. Lucky for me they’ve been harmless, a few were even very helpful. But you never know when you might run into the exact opposite. Violently, mentally disturbed individuals are out there. Trigger happy squatters, drug addicts, and more can be found wandering the places we like to shoot.
In this cautionary tale however, it was the discovery of a possibly stolen truck that Jay and I discovered in a hallway in the rotunda section of the hospital that alarmed us. An older, beaten up, pick-up truck was tightly lodged in a hallway. Initially when I’d spied the truck I didn’t really pay attention to it. For all I knew the truck could’ve belonged fellow explorers or drone pilots. As I drew closer however I noticed the truck’s passenger side was ground up against the wall. Whilst I continued to shoot I could feel heat coming off the truck’s hood from almost a foot away. I stepped back and stopped to consider the situation. Someone had purposefully taken a large Chevy Work Truck and ground it up against a wall deep inside an abandoned hospital’s hallway and left it. Oh, and said truck was still hot, painfully hot; perhaps in more ways than one.
It had obviously rained in Birmingham since our last trip. Oh hey, a truck. Umm, its a little odd right? Who’d cram a truck up against a wall like that? Is it stolen?
This was a new experience for both Jay and myself. We were likely standing beside a possibly stolen vehicle inside an abandoned hospital. Great. And if the truck was stolen? Where might the folks be who stole the truck? On our previous trip we’d met drone pilots in the same area. In another building close by we’d run into a squatter. The chance of the drone pilots, or the squatter, giving us trouble were pretty low. Car thieves though? Who knows how such a scenario might play out? Would a car thief be dangerous? Perhaps running to escape the law for something worse than stealing a truck? Might they just be some person out on a joy ride ?Or maybe this truck belonged to somebody looking for scrap in the hospital? No way to tell, really. Wisely, we chose to move along to another section of the hospital. Somewhere safer, like the morgue.
Yeah, let’s bounce to another section of the hospital.
I’ve said it before that exploring abandos is not safe, its not smart, but we do it anyway for the thrill of the experience. We also do this to amaze and tantalize those who follow our adventures.
I’ve always wanted to shoot this collection of abandoned buildings in Chattanooga, but something has always come up. Well, last Sunday I finally got to check that location off the bucket list. Jay Farrel and I hit Chatt Town and immediately spied our quarry. We pulled off the interstate and took a few side roads and found ourselves following a narrow road that dead ended in a train yard. We quickly turned around trying to find a way to get access to the buildings we wanted to shoot and noticed that there was a Green Way running along the front of our destination and the fence keeping us out was only waist high. Better yet a little investigation proved that a large section of the fence was down, we had only to duck under the fence support and we were in! We stood before the Wheland Foundry, and it was breathtaking. The sky was a beautiful blue, and the green Mountains stood majestically in the background. There was a slight breeze and I swear the temperature was a perfect 78 degrees. If anything, it was too beautiful. Rather than enter the foundry’s proper entrance that stood looming before us, we opted for one of a series of gothic looking buildings that had been painted a bright blue. I had to wonder if maybe they were painted this color to try to alleviate Tennessee’s brutal heat and direct exposure to the sun. Inside the first structure we found little beyond graffiti. Still it was worth noting the entire back wall looked as if it had been torn out and this allowed us quick access to the next large building inside which we found a few large pieces of equipment. While these were not the treasures we were looking for we could feel the potential for finding some true “Abando Gold” if we kept going.
Next up was a building the justified our tenacity. Like the other buildings it was bright blue, but that is where the similarities stopped. This building was all blue painted brick, and there were rows of empty windows, jagged glass teeth were all that remained of their panes. A large hole in the lower part of one wall showed evidence where a tree had at some point taken root and grown out of the wall itself. I had to ask myself just how long had the foundry been closed? This shorn tree was at least 8 inches in diameter, so it had been allowed to grow for quite sometime. Further along a set of double doors stood, beckoning us to enter. Inside the differences from the other buildings were even greater. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in the large hall I was standing in, my mouth slightly agape. Jay went one way, I went on my own and lost in the wonderment of the ruins I began to shoot.
The truly difficult part of shooting abandoned sites like this is trying to capture everything that catches your eye whilst walking upon uneven surfaces that are covered in a carpet of debris. You have to keep checking out everywhere you may put your foot. Broken glass, nails, slivers of wood, holes that can turn your ankle, even areas where you might fall down into basement. It’s not easy to do this, but the experience, is a constant rush. This is my life.
With ninja like stealth we scuttled over to the next building. On its wall a giant graffiti skull blazed away. I toook this to be a good sign of what might be found within would be Abando Gold, and I was right! Ducking beneath a plastic set of curtains I found myself in the antechamber of a vast hall. This thing was the easily the size of the train works I’d shot in Alabama a few years ago. Unlike the train depot, the floor here was concrete, ash and dirt. It should have been dark in here a Stygian blackness but no, it was pretty well lit up due to all the bay doors having been removed, and the mostly vacant windows a hundred feet or more above. Sunlight streamed in and I was for once happy that it did, after all, my tripod was in the car. I walked about shooting this and that, but my attention became absorbed by giant cranes that were above us, locked in place for decades. I was in heaven.
Forgotten Tennessee 
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