Busting into Budd

On a miserable, damp and drippy Saturday, our Urbexia group drove up to Philly to explore an old factory building that had once been a manufacturing plant for trolley car bodies, plane shells, missile and space vehicles along with other body parts of the vehicle industry.

 In its heyday the Budd Company had been a hive of activity, but today the building stood silent, tall and empty, its walls cracked and peeling, window panes smashed and daubed with graffiti. It had opened in 1912, developing all steel automobile bodies, which had previously been made of wood, and also the technique of welding pieces together without causing erosion, the 'shotweld' technique. The company stopped manufacturing here in 2002 and any Budd built cars remaining are highly prized due to their high quality construction and design.
The building was dark and huge as we entered, like a deep cave. The only sounds were the constant drips from leaks above as the rain kept up a constant barrage outside.The floor was nearly completely covered by an inch deep of water. We hopped from one dry patch to another but before long I was just trudging through the wetness, glad I had on my waterproof hiking boots but still the bottoms of my jeans were soaked, large circles of dark blue climbing up the backs of my legs.

 We strolled in and started shooting. And then after about 7 photos the battery in my camera died. I nearly screamed. The green light had shone on the charger when I had checked it last night and my spare batteries had been lost last weekend during my snow shots at Blandy. I was furious but there was no point in venting. Instead this would give me a chance to try out my new iPhone in low light, so all following photos are shot on that. I have also since purchased new camera batteries and a charger...

I amazed myself by not being supremely pissed off at my lack of technology. The phone was actually able to take relatively good images and it was just great to be out urbexing again after so many months absence. The lack of abandonments is saddening, we have to travel so far now to explore something new, and most of where we've been exist no longer, pummeled to the ground, converted into new businesses or residences, or simply so far gone that any interesting artifacts or architecture have either disintegrated with erosion or been destroyed by destructive hands.

Furbex, Margie's stuffed kitty, made an appearance, looking quite contented on a ledge by a broken window. The building was vast, most floors looking the same but I soon knuckled down, different views and perspectives catching my eye. It was a challenge to see things in a new way. A friend on Facebook likened the rooms with huge pillars to scenes on Gustave Dore engravings and I kind of saw where he was going, but was pleased I hadn't heard the reference before I came here, his etchings all possess an ominous quality.

The shot above was the only image that I wished I had my camera working. The area was dark so my phone couldn't capture the folds in this hanging plastic very well. The constant rain had formed large expanses of water on the floor, creating wonderful reflections that we all played around with. Richard had been here before on a sunny day, the sun's rays and blue skies enabling him to capture more vibrant and warmer shots than today's dreary and more dismal scenes. I peered out of broken panes onto peeling roofs, shards of glass sitting on the window ledges and scattered on the ground below. The only color in the building was the graffiti on the walls, columns and still hanging doors, vivid yellow and orange peels of paints curing downwards on old breaker boxes. Some of the square window panes had been painted in, as though someone had felt more color needed to be added to the drabness surrounding us.

Really liked this graffiti, it could be our motto.

All the levels of the building were vast open areas surrounded by walls of glass, much of it smashed and allowing in the miserable weather, a constant plopping of rain drops accompanying us wherever we went. Each floor also had a locker room but little had survived, the building had been cleared of all internal structure apart from the column supports. My enthusiasm was waning some when Margie scarpered away from a window towards me, a look of alarm that I'd never seen on her face before. She'd seen 4 men in the building opposite, which we though connected to ours, but wasn't sure of their status, whether they were security, homeless or simply explorers like us. Her anxiety flowed over towards me and I wondered if after my few months break from urbexing I'd lost my nerve. We decided to go downstairs while Emily and Richard continued to a higher floor.

But once outside we were soon bored and I was regretting our rushed departure. But regret turned to renewed enthusiasm when we discovered that the door to the power building was open. We snuck in and discovered a room that actually contained some machinery.

We walked around the rusting turbine and climbed up the metal stairs so we could see the machinery higher up. A galley led back to the main building but we didn't linger there. The others found us and soon we wrapped up our session as bellies growled and a yearning for craft beer consumed us all.

 A couple of hours later, with sated appetites, we were driving through the dark to return home, with an additional passenger, a huge loaf of bread that weighed the same as a small dog. It sat between the two front seats while we all tugged pieces from its hugeness to nibble on. Very heavy but very tasty!
 Plans were made for the Budd buildings to be converted into a commerce center. The company covered a huge tract of land, 75 acres, so this will be a massive undertaking. Budd was one of the city's largest manufacturers and 600 jobs were lost when it closed, yet over 1000 jobs will hopefully be created with the new development.
 A wonderful photo collection of Budd operations here.
Some lovely Budd advertisement paintings by Leslie Ragan, Part 1, and Part 2.