The hum of the engine whispered in the background as we traveled paved highways through mountains and valleys, our destination would bring us hours from home to the town of Hudson, NY where the historic Dr. Oliver Bronson house lay vacant just outside of the penitentiary. Past the prison gates and right onto the dirt road where a small black sign with outlined white lettering assured us we arrived. Pulling onto the circular driveway the impressive old victorian sat nestled around tall trees whose branches seemed to embrace the old house. The front porch wide and vast directed us to the massive front door, once opened your eyes stretched over peeling sage floral wallpaper and onto the grand hall where a most impressive staircase grew from the floor circularly up to the third floor, a grand spindle entwined railing led the stairs. The boards creaked as our weight was brought upon them, we split up and each set off to discover the wonders and mysteries of a house long forgot. A musky stale air drenched throughout each of its glorious rooms, of which each had a themed paint color that was pale with age and history most were even complimented with a grand marble fireplace. Traveling to a time of sophistication and class as we strolled about the empty halls, sensory overload would be an understatement as each of us worked with our cameras and models to capture the beauty we soaked in. The sun flooded in, through massive windows that had warped and sagged with time, creating brilliant natural light unlocking every corner and secret of the old doctors estate. The few short hours we were given with the house seemed to be a tease equivalent to a bite of pie without getting a slice, but grateful as ever to witness such a beautiful piece of history we packed up said our thank you’s and headed back down the dusty road through the iron prison gates. After a refuel in the form of burgers at a quaint diner in the nearby town we drove to an old factory we had seen on the way in, parking in a truck repair shops back lot behind tall blonde grass we headed toward the massive structure left to waste in the expansive field. A small piece of pealed back sheet metal that once sealed an old entrance way led us into the belly of the factory, inside the concrete walls were complimented with to many windows to count, graffiti and bird droppings coated the walls and floors as we wandered. Climbing up railing-less stairs to an old office on the top floor that was filled with blueprints and old file cabinets. Quick to capture the surroundings we surveyed around the outside of the building and headed back to our cars, those that had come from other states said there goodbyes, we climbed in our respective cars and welcomed the mild engine hum as we grabbed some shut eye on the way home.
As always safe travels friends.