Cupola

OOOO!!! FIRST COMMENT!!!

First on-topic comment!

Did they clean them out when this was in operation? I would imagine you wouldn't want something that flammable just SITTING on top of your buildings! Such a dangerous fire hazard... Was there a reason they built them like this? I would think you could build vent differently so they wouldn't clog up...

it would never clog up ive been in there theres a little vent in the attic that leads to the top of that it actually very cool

these buildings are so beautiful in there own ways and it is such a shame that they went to waste like this

was there recently. favorite place in the world- the whole campus. rock on, dude. you are a legendary photographer to me.

Thus concludes this study.

KPPC: A most memorable site.

Motts Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!!!!!

The final photo in this most remarkable series on Kings Park Hospital, and a priceless sociological documentary that ought one day to be published.
As I have travelled with Mott through the empty rooms and decaying corridors of the institution, my main thoughts have been to visualise it's past, and to try and picture the many & varied scenes that it must have born witness to. Night nurses bent over their desks beneath anglepoise lamps- a slumbering ward whose peace is broken by the pitiful cries of a disturbed patient waking from a nightmare, to whom the ward sister quickly rushes to administer the balm of whispered reassurance and a sedative- elderly war veterans in wheelchairs nodding in the warmth of the afternoon sun, as mellow rays and the smell of honeysuckle wafted through an open window and insects droned in the bushes- a young consultant neurologist agonising late into the night some time in the early '50s over the request for a lobotamy by a despairing psychotic, tapping his pen against his teeth and deciding to take it up with his superiors- maintenance men seated in the greasy subterranean light of the boiler rooms, reading magazines and scratching a cat's ears as a radio sings in the background- a frightened child in the pediatric wards of the early '80s reassured into giggles when she sees her old muppet pal Gonzo peeping at her on the wall, and her special nurse squeezes her hand to comfort her- the clunk of pool balls in the recreation rooms- a young schitzophrenic proudly showing her visiting parents the murals she has helped to paint- Summer nights when rainstorms lashed the venerable Ivy-covered walls of the Quad, and ships hooted out in Long Island Sound- the angry yells and curses of a violent patient confined to a secure excercise area- the click and shuffle of looms in the weaving therapy room- a young man soon to be discharged after recovering from a nervous breakdown, intensively working on scripts for the hospital Christmas show as his parting contribution- the scurry of activity in the corner of a ward when a patient is found to have overdosed, with screens drawn around the bed and nurses running for emergency equipment as the duty doctor frantically tries to save another life- morgue attendants hosing down autopsy tables with disinfectant- flowers from relatives & friends blooming in vases- canteen staff gossiping as they prepare to serve another lunch- delivery vehicles reversing up to service entrances on cloudy afternoons..... I could go on and on, but it is the echoes of these and countless other cameos in time that the old hospital holds within her walls. Now all is still, and quiet; the past ages hang like a dust sheet on the buildings, pregnant with memories, and the future is a distant spark. For now, let her slumber....

Whoa. Way to go, Owen.

*applauds*

Owen - that was an amazing description and I almost felt like I was there myself witnessing it all. The history of these places makes me speechless.

Awesome pictures too.

Owen, that was magnificent. In one post you managed to capture the main reason many of us hold these buildings so dear. It's the human factor that converts simple brick, tile, carpet, wood, steel, and glass into a living, breathing organism. Millions of untold stories unfolded among these now silent and crumbling walls. As Motts galleries have shown time and time again, when a building becomes void of people, it dies. Those who enter these buildings should do so with a degree of respect and humility for those who were housed here and for those who worked here trying to make a difference. This is why vandals upset us. It's just disrespectful.

It's been 3 1/2 years since your post Owen. I hope you make it back here some day to accept my thanks for putting it into words so well. And I agree. "For now, let her slumber".