Goodbye Infirmary

On Sunday morning, a small group of us went to say farewell to the DC Infirmary. It's being razed to the ground to make way for a metro garage so we wanted to snatch a few last shots to help preserve the building.

 We had to hunt for an entry point so Steve thoughtfully punched a way in for us.

 This prayer still hung on the wall along with jokes cut from newspapers, notices and photos. It seemed sad to think they would disappear forever smashed by a wrecking ball into a pile of rubble.

 We silently walked through corridors and past rooms, many of which had asbestos abatement posters up and areas cordoned off with sheets of plastic.
We walked into the theater area which had also been emptied since our last visit.

Steve found a box of fluorescent light bulbs so we promptly started a light saber fight, not breaking any of course, while Barb photographed us fooling around.

 The morgue was surprisingly intact but all the doors were shut so we had to open them for photos. Note the claw marks on the door left by a previous visitor to insinuate someone had fought their way out.

The labs still had bottles and flasks lying around and occasionally we would come across patients' belongings.

I really liked the decay and symmetry of these flues.

 There was a lot more damage and broken glass than last time, but being a big fan of glass, I welcomed the photo opportunities this presented.

After spending most of the day there excepting lunch break when we left then returned, we decided to leave as dusk approached. Retracing our steps down corridors, we slowly headed back to the exit. As we passed one long window, we glanced out and stared directly at a security guard. He saw us and we moved fast. Steve ran ahead of the window since he was closer to the wall there, while the rest of us ducked back. Not wanting to peer out and be seen again, we decided to go a different way but Steve had to rejoin the rest of us. I couldn't believe it when he threw himself to the floor and started hunching towards us like a commando. He was pretty grubby when he stood up.

We continued to head out discussing what we would say to the guard once we met up with him, but were amazed to see no sign of him as we walked towards the car. We were lucky and realized it. It was a great way to end our visit but we all looked wistfully over our shoulders as we left the hospital, knowing we wouldn't see it standing again.