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Empty Buildings, Rich Souls
Before I leave the east, I have of course discovered one of the many things that gives this area its distinctive flavor.
One of my good friends is a bit of a nomad, and he is dedicated to immersing himself in the culture and the history of the coal country that makes up part of what is known as the Rust Belt. Following his lead, one weekend in the cold autumn air we drove deep into the heart of it to see what we could find.
I was not quite expecting to enjoy myself quite so much, even though it took a while. Though coal country is not new to me, I didn't think that a hundred miles would be very different. But it was. The things that I found there were different from the clinically pristine metamorphosis of Bethlehem city. Here the grunge and the hopelessness was a little bit more real. No promise of big glitzy business, just generations upon generations of coal workers following the work that they've always known, devoutly trying to ignore the fact that the world (and the environment) is changing.
Our first stop was an oldie but goodie, late in the evening. An hour from our crash spot and in a tiny little string of houses that counts as a town, the light on this coal breaker is deceptively dim.
I remember walking through the ground floor to get to the rear of the building. Although there was starlight and one lone street lamp, the only other light that helped me was the reflection of the town lights on the thin cloud cover. Why did the photographer cross the property? Because she was nuts, terrified, and her heart was in her mouth.
The very best part of these coal towns is that some things just don't change. We had a greasy breakfast the following morning, eating absolutely nothing that would be considered acceptable in our daily menu.
In the afternoon, we opted to work it off taking a few shots. I've been here a few times before but some things just don't get old.
Cog wheels = :lust
The evenings were spent with friends, some new and some old. It was good to see people and take a break from the endless silence that is a forgotten building. Shenanigans:
You can find this particular nomad here on Dgrin occasionally, if he's not out doing what he does best:
Even as we headed home, I was a bit doubtful. Each and every one of us has the opportunity to travel to exotic places near and far, and on the surface, Coal Country isn't it. But as I sifted through my memories and my photos and realize how unique this land really is, I am becoming more and more capable of understanding and appreciating that fact.
One of my good friends is a bit of a nomad, and he is dedicated to immersing himself in the culture and the history of the coal country that makes up part of what is known as the Rust Belt. Following his lead, one weekend in the cold autumn air we drove deep into the heart of it to see what we could find.
I was not quite expecting to enjoy myself quite so much, even though it took a while. Though coal country is not new to me, I didn't think that a hundred miles would be very different. But it was. The things that I found there were different from the clinically pristine metamorphosis of Bethlehem city. Here the grunge and the hopelessness was a little bit more real. No promise of big glitzy business, just generations upon generations of coal workers following the work that they've always known, devoutly trying to ignore the fact that the world (and the environment) is changing.
Our first stop was an oldie but goodie, late in the evening. An hour from our crash spot and in a tiny little string of houses that counts as a town, the light on this coal breaker is deceptively dim.
I remember walking through the ground floor to get to the rear of the building. Although there was starlight and one lone street lamp, the only other light that helped me was the reflection of the town lights on the thin cloud cover. Why did the photographer cross the property? Because she was nuts, terrified, and her heart was in her mouth.
The very best part of these coal towns is that some things just don't change. We had a greasy breakfast the following morning, eating absolutely nothing that would be considered acceptable in our daily menu.
In the afternoon, we opted to work it off taking a few shots. I've been here a few times before but some things just don't get old.
Cog wheels = :lust
The evenings were spent with friends, some new and some old. It was good to see people and take a break from the endless silence that is a forgotten building. Shenanigans:
You can find this particular nomad here on Dgrin occasionally, if he's not out doing what he does best:
Even as we headed home, I was a bit doubtful. Each and every one of us has the opportunity to travel to exotic places near and far, and on the surface, Coal Country isn't it. But as I sifted through my memories and my photos and realize how unique this land really is, I am becoming more and more capable of understanding and appreciating that fact.
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My Images | My Lessons Learned and Other Adventures
Cuong
Lovely images and words like poetry to describe your experience.
lov the last window shot before the wheels...so cool...
i dont know the faces... maybe give us better hints? or i missed the names totally
BTW...the shots through the windows....both of them...are scrumptious!
Have yourself a merry one schmoo.
Jeff
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Photos that don't suck / 365 / Film & Lomography
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Abandoned hsopital and prisons around the North East.
Can you get a few in before you leave? Why are you moving west?
Z
I used to do a lot more exploring before... I'd like to say before I ran out of places to go locally, but honestly it's before I changed jobs!
http://www.schmootography.com/Quiescence
I love the west coast and I've never lived off the East my whole life. It's time to do a little exploring of a different type, as well as meet some westerly Dgrinners
Thanks for the comments, Zanotti!
Photos that don't suck / 365 / Film & Lomography
glad you could make it out to the campsite/fire it was good times.
sorry i'm a bit disjointed, currently out of the country and no sleep.
Sweet! I wish I could be a jetsetter like you. I'm workin' on it...
Photos that don't suck / 365 / Film & Lomography
My Photo Gallery:Northern Focus Photography
I wish I was half the man that my dog thinks I am...
I do what I can.
You all get to go all over the place so I think you're doing a pretty good job yourself.