On Saturday, I met with Emily and Liz for a long overdue urbexing trip. A few of our friends had recently discovered an abandoned school in DC that had been closed about 6 years ago to save the District money so we decided to check it out before it became public knowledge, which usually results in total desecration by vandals and taggers.
It was a blistering hot and steamy day, my camera bag was already sticking to my back before we'd entered the property, which we managed by climbing in through a window. This proved to be a little easier for me than my two shorter pals but we achieved access without too much bother.
The first room we entered was a science lab. People had been here already, smashing equipment and daubing paint on the walls but there was still plenty of reasonable photographic opportunities and we quietly slunk about with our cameras, the silence punctuated with the cracking of glass underfoot, sounding like we were walking on bubble wrap.The familiar smell of mold and must filled my nose as I crunched my way around the lab, eager to start photographing the remains of the school.
We peered in through every doorway along the dingy dark hallways and I spotted a few clocks on the walls, each one had stopped at noon, which was strange, but kind of Twilight Zone cool. The lighting was great, bright sunlight casting distorted rectangles of white onto dusty floors, deep shadows contrasting close by. I didn't need a tripod, which was great because I'd been too lazy to bring one. Many of the rooms had been teaching different vocations, the shoe making room was interesting. I had flashbacks of Forest Haven, seeing these different skills being taught, and like the old asylum, there was so much paperwork strewn on the floors, some damp and clogged together, but also much was perfectly legible, names of tutors and teachers on exercise books and sheets of paper.
There were four floors to explore and we spent hours tramping the hallways and investigating all the rooms, many empty, filled with trash or with graffiti daubed on the walls, none of which was photo worthy. The huge gymnasium with its basketball court and bleachers had banners proudly declaring wins from 50 years ago. I haven't posted photos of these as they would disclose the school's location, but this school left a sports legacy that was unmatched by any other DC public school, and it was a little sad to see so many abandoned trophies and medallions broken or simply left behind in the rooms. Even band uniforms had been discarded, some still hanging in lockers.
We found more science labs and radio labs, equipment and books piled up on dusty shelves in closets and storage rooms. Although some kids had been in here smashing things, there was still plenty that was still intact. Glass beakers, microscopes, glass slides, test tubes, books still in cellophane wrapping, so many supplies were left forgotten on the wooden shelves or in dark metal lockers. We were amazed that this hadn't been repurposed, this was a waste of District resources that could have been avoided with some planning.
Down in the basement was a hair salon and a huge weight room, which must have been ahead of its game in the day, but now the equipment stood rusted and silent, steeped in gloomy shadows with puddles of murky water on the floor, dust and moldy particles building up on the seats from the fallen ceiling tiles, curling inspirational posters clinging to damp walls. An empty cafeteria, its bright orange and yellow decor failed to make an impression against the rotting gloom of decay in this damp basement. The moldy odors bothered all of us and we were eager to climb the stairs back to fresher air.
We finished with some photos of the greenhouse area. I would have loved to see this space in its heyday but now only weeds forced their way through broken panes and seemed to want to tug the glass roof down. Yet it had been a fabulous explore, a wonderful expedition with friends to capture a forgotten world, and a joy to discover a building that hadn't been totally desecrated by vandals, for now.
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