A necropolis for cars, and more.

I loved the angle that this old car was sitting at. The patina, the rust, it has so much character.

On a Sunday in March my buddy Jay and I went on a quest to photograph old, rusted, cars from Detroit and then some. We didn’t have to go too far from Nashville, Tennessee. We found what we wanted on a backroad somewhere near Dickson, Tennessee. As we traveled slowly down a narrow 2 lane road, our heads swiveling right and left for abandoned automobile gold. We’d just crested a hill, and passed on our left what looked like a good amount of dead cars on the left side of the road. We immediately pulled over on to the grassy right side of the asphalt. Jay got out to go and talk with an older gentleman who was tinkering around an old Dodge pick up. After a few minutes of respectfully shooting the breeze with the owner we were granted permission to shoot the property. Jay and I took our cameras and after a bit of initial wandering we separated and went on with the exploration of what turned out to be a Necropolis of abandoned cars, and more.

Initially I started my exploration at the from of the property photographing vehicles close to the road. I shot an old Cadilac, from the 40’s. A 70’s era Mustang Mach caught my attention, as did an older truck from the 30’s. Everywhere I turned some Detroit monster sat in the weeds, slowly being eaten by time and the elements. I began to climb up the hill that the vehicles sat upon. As I climbed I shot an older Jeep, a Pontic Trans Am, and so much more. Near the top of the hill sat a large Ranch style home that was surrounded by old cars, tires, motorcycles, and and various bric-a-brac. This was a gold mine of junk! And I was happy as hell to be wandering it all. On the left sat several cars including a Rolls Royce! I had to photograph the Rolls. As I waled around the Rolls I could see that even though the car was slowly giving into the ravages of time its iconic hood ornament, and grill were spotless! It was as if time could not touch them.

I’m not a “car guy”, but I have a soft spot for the classics.

I followed a natural right handed bend that wandered around to the back of the house. It was here that I got a better idea of how large the property was, and how vast this collection of cars, trucks, tractors and more actually was. I later found out from the owner that his collection sat upon 15 acres. I was gobsmacked. The owner’s house that sat upon the top of the hill had a nearly impenetrable maze, and behind it a stand of trees stood. Amongst the trees at the hill top were the rusty cars that reminded me of the carapaces of large beetles, I climbed, shimmied, crawled, and squeezed through the maze of detritus to get to the top of the hill to shoot those old car bodies that were from the 20’s and 30’s. Some vehicles had rusted and crumbled until they were bare skeletons that revealed their steel frames and transmissions.

I wanted to go down the back of that hill to shoot the broken hulks that covered the ground. However we only had maybe and hour or so before the owner would leave to run some errands. With this in mind, I carefully made my way back to the rear of the house. Again, this place was a honey hole for old discarded odds and ends that were easily decades old. I photographed several “Can operated arcade machines that once would tell a person’s weight and reveal your fortune. I was tickled to see these. Old bikes, and even older soft drink machines made up the maze that I carefully explored. I’d just taken what I thought to be a great shot of an old bike, and a vintage hot dog wagon when I heard a horn blowing. That horn was out warning that our time for exploration was drawing to an end.

I tried making my way back to the bottom of the hill. However there were numerous instances where I found myself retracing my steps. I hit dead ends made up of of tires, old filing cabinets, dressers, as well as assorted large tool cases on wheels. Eventually I stepped between a narrow rift in the wall of tires and was able to make my way down the hill to where I had started my exploration. I came across a few more old cars that I really liked the look of, such as an old convertible that had bullet holes in the window? I had to capture shots of them as well!

My last captures were of an ancient Detroit behemoth of a Cadillac called to me. I wonder what this old gal looked like when she ran off the production line? The Flying Goddess looked to be as eternally spotless as the Spirit of Ecstasy that adorns the hood of the Rolls Royce.

I truly hope you enjoyed this little trip through a roadside car necropolis. If you would, please leave a like and a comment or two. Thank you. Oh, also let me know if you might like a print or two.

The Graffiti Bridge

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.

Was that a Barge? Yes, its a Barge!

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!

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Cairo, Illinois, once a town of promise. Today it’s all but abandoned.

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

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