Concrete City is easy to miss. In fact, you can't actually see it from the main road. This undrivable road juts off from Front Street and is the simplest way in. It's completely unmarked, but is across the street from an entrance to a Susquehanna Coal Company facility -- probably the same one the miners used to walk to.
Follow this road back about 150 yards and you'll see Concrete City below to your left. This road eventally wraps around and leads into the City, but we took the shortcut down the hill.
Concrete City is a square plaza-style layout of 20 identical buildings, all facing in towards the center of the plaza. At first glance, it would easily pass for a level out of Half Life 2.
Vandals and time have not been kind. These buildings are nearly a century old and have been left untreated and unmaintained for well over 60 years. While I wouldn't consider ANY of them to be "structurally sound" or even "safe", they are certainly in far better shape than most other abandoned 90-year-old buildings.
Fairly new tree growth, attempting to reclaim the area. It's worth noting that I didn't see any plant life whatsoever penetrating the interiors of the buildings.
Despite the desolation and decay surrounding it, this tree clings to life.
This side of the plaza showed signs of more landscaping than the others. Perhaps these four buildings were reserved for the top of the top management?
Each building is perfectly symmetrical and housed two families. Each floor had three rooms. The ground floor would've likely been a kitchen, dining room, and parlor, and the upper floor would've likely been three bedrooms. There is also a crawlspace underneath, though some of them were severely flooded.
The desolation was maddening, almost palpable. Maybe it was the combination of light rain and fog that had been persistently throwing itself at us all morning. Maybe it was just the bleak light from the clouded sky yielding dull colors. Most likely it was knowing that during the pre-UMW era in which these homes were used, coal miners in the region were working under conditions so oppressive and reprehensible as to be beyond our worst nightmares today.
A fire hydrant wistfully stands at the ready.
This photo is from the back of one of the structures, in what might have been the kitchen. The stairs here lead down to a crawlspace. Because of the condition of the buildings, and because of the uncertain condition of the ground below, I didn't venture down to get pictures of the crawlspace. You'll see another reason why in a moment.
Stairs leading up to the second level. Because the buildings were built using pre-cast concrete, the second floor also has a stairway identical to this. Disappointingly, it leads to nowhere.
View of the same stairway as the prior picture, but taken from further back. This is looking into what might have been the dining room. The room in which I am standing also contained what would have been the front door, thus making it (most likely) the parlor or living room.
The buildings were all in varying states of uprightedness (to say that any of them were "structurally sound" would be a wild inaccuracy). The "foundation" (and that's being generous) is yielding, suggesting that this building will at some point topple forward. Whether it happens tomorrow, next year, or in another hundred years is anyone's guess.
Another photo of the so-called "foundation" and its quest to be free of its load.
Some of the buildings were in better shape than others. For example, this building appears to have an issue with the second floor. Legend has it that an attempt was made to knock down one of these buildings using TNT; perhaps this was the one.
The roof is still technically present. Whether or not it will support a person's weight -- or even a heavy snow -- is a matter only time will resolve. I will point out that the appearance of rebar indicates that water has seeped into the concrete, putting this roof into a very stressful freeze / thaw period every year. Additionally, the moss growing on top suggests that a good deal of water has found its way in over a long period of time. Perhaps most disturbing is that every day I drive on bridges that look far worse than this.
Someone appears to have done some remodeling. And they've CUT SOME CORNERS! Hahahaha! Get it? LOL! *sigh*
More signs of impending structural failure -- this wall is buckling out more than is made obvious in this photo. I wouldn't set foot in this building, and standing this close wasn't my brightest moment either.
Same building as before. Someone has knocked out a large part of a load-bearing wall. I wonder how much a concrete roof weighs?
Some of these buildings have seen more paintball activity than others.
And some of these buildings have seen more firearm activity than others. Many were riddled with bullet holes, and spent shotgun shells were plentiful. Seeing these made me glad we all decided to carry that day.
While I would prefer to see the buildings completely unaltered, some of the graffiti wasn't bad.
Some of the graffiti was ... odd.
The building in the background is leaning forward and to its side at a considerable angle. The perspective on this photo doesn't accurately convey just how far it's leaning. The building in the foreground is also leaning -- see the next photo.
This building is leaning heavily to one side. Unlike a wood-frame house, which would just sag in one part, the entire structure is tilting to the right. In addition, the crawlspace (if you can call it that) is completely flooded.
Probably 90% of the graffiti was along the lines of "WU TANG RULZ" or simple stick figures / tags. But a small chunk of the stuff actually showed some effort.
More decay. A load-bearing corner with vertical and lateral cracks? With a big chunk missing? This is bad on so many levels (although I the wedged-in piece of concrete was an amusing punchline).
Detail on the ceiling. Unfortunately I can't say exactly what's going on here, but I have a pretty good idea. The holes you see are from when the concrete was cast (remember, this was done in 1910 - 1911); specks of the stuff probably stuck behind when it was separated from the wood mold. What you see peeling off is probably 23 layers of 90-year-old paint; every year, the mine company would generously paint the interiors at no charge to the tenants.
Taken from the stairway in the corner. This gives a good idea of how "big" the rooms were. There's your living room, folks! The room in the foreground is the same size.
Another exterior shot. Once upon a time a concrete sidewalk ran the interior perimeter of the buildings somewhere between the building and that chunk of concrete on the left. Absolutely no sign of such remains.
The rusted remains of some sort of vehicle. It's far too small to be a car. It appears to be from the 1940s-ish, so it's very unlikely that this was left behind by the original residents.
Detail on said hulk. What story did it have?
I wanted to get a picture of this stool. After getting home and reviewing the pictures, I realized that I had left the camera in macro-focus mode from the previous shot. FAIL.
Shenanigans are afoot.
Interior decay, missing walls, and one-cent shrimp. How can you go wrong?
A missing interior wall opens up the space between the two halves. That's a clear shot into the next building. Also, Kramer was here.
Another (centered) take on the view to next door.
The fog and rain refused to yield. What little sunlight did manage to struggle through could only shine a cold, gray light on the village. I can't think of a more fitting forecast. I took one last picture as we left -- that's fog rolling across the valley, and either Haystack Mountain or Penobscot Mountain (depending on which local gets tired of fighting about it first) in the background.
