dilapidated houses

If you ever wake up missing him, remember every time you woke up without him in bed, wondering where he was and when he would come home. If you get pains in your chest when you pass his house in the car, count to ten and breathe slowly. Now speed up, blast your music, and scream obscenities at the top of your lungs. If your morning coffee tastes of his tongue, try tea. If your song comes on the radio, I strongly suggest you change the station. Actually, change your sheets, your hair. When you dial his number and hang up five times in a row, call your mom instead.

If you ever wake up missing him, remember that the past is no place to live. Memory lane is an ugly place to visit, lined with dilapidated houses that have been vacant for years and potholes in the middle of the street. Stay away.

—  if you ever wake up missing him | S.B.
9

…Baron Hill Estate was built in 1618 at the request of the Richard Bulkeley. In 1776, architect Samuel Wyatt re-designed the mansion in a Neo-Palladian style. By World War I, the Bulkeley family moved from the mansion and no longer used it as a permanent residence due to lack of funds to maintain the stately home…

Full Story –> http://www.abandonedplaygrounds.com/the-baron-hill-estate-abandoned-ruins-in-beaumaris/

HAIR HOUSE

Every room in this house is filled from floor to ceiling with dead human hair. The family who used to live here cut their own hair, and over the course of several decades it just sort of piled up. Things like this happen more often than most of us would like to admit.

Grandfather Tim

Grandpa Tim was a bit of a recluse, as my family liked to say. He lived out in the middle of nowhere in an old, dilapidated house. But when he came around, everyone listened. No one argues or disobeys his commands, as strange as they were.

For example, the time Tim convinced my Aunt Betty to purchase a life insurance policy on my Uncle Bill. Betty argued but gave in to Grandpa who insisted on paying for the policy. Two years later, Uncle Bill passed away from a sudden heart attack. Aunt Betty received a huge payout that helped Uncle Bill’s wife with the funeral costs.

Sometimes his advice would be to get checked at the doctor, even if you weren’t sick, and they would find a life threatening tumor inside you. Other times, it would be to stay home from work on a certain day and then you’d see a twenty car pile up on the highway in the news. Grandpa Tim always knew exactly when to call.

When Tim died, I inherited all his possessions including his house. The lawyer instructed me to check his mailbox for a letter Tim left me.

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then almost fainting when I saw the endless cavern of hourglasses as far as the eye could see. The closest hourglasses to the door had the names of my family members etched on their bases. That’s when I saw the sand in my parent’s hourglasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane heading to Tim’s funeral. The sand in their hourglasses refilled.

Grandfather Tim.

Grandpa Tim was a bit of a recluse, as my family liked to say. He lived out in the middle of nowhere in an old, dilapidated house. But when he came around, everyone listened. No one argues or disobeys his commands, as strange as they were.

For example, the time Tim convinced my Aunt Betty to purchase a life insurance policy on my Uncle Bill. Betty argued but gave in to Grandpa who insisted on paying for the policy. Two years later, Uncle Bill passed away from a sudden heart attack. Aunt Betty received a huge payout that helped Uncle Bill’s wife with the funeral costs.

Sometimes his advice would be to get checked at the doctor, even if you weren’t sick, and they would find a life threatening tumor inside you. Other times, it would be to stay home from work on a certain day and then you’d see a twenty car pile up on the highway in the news. Grandpa Tim always knew exactly when to call.

When Tim died, I inherited all his possessions including his house. The lawyer instructed me to check his mailbox for a letter Tim left me.

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then almost fainting when I saw the endless cavern of hourglasses as far as the eye could see. The closest hourglasses to the door had the names of my family members etched on their bases. That’s when I saw the sand in my parent’s hourglasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane heading to Tim’s funeral. The sand in their hourglasses refilled.

Two days after Hurricane Katrina hit, 20-year-old Jabbar Gibson and his friends were desperate to escape their dilapidated housing project in New Orleans. Now’s the time to mention that Gibson was a small-time drug dealer and thief, who had stolen vehicles before. So what’s one more, especially when the alternative is a violent drowning death? He found a school bus, figured out how to drive the thing, and off he went to pick up as many friends and family as the bus could fit. Roughly 60 people climbed aboard, way beyond capacity, but since it’s not hard to choose between cramped legs and cramped inside a coffin, nobody complained.

Then, the cops came. Seeing a guy with a record driving a stolen bus, they ordered everyone off and were likely about to commence with the cuffin’ when Gibson countered with his secret weapon: his momma. Bernice Gibson told the cops that her son’s “theft” was the only way to save dozens of lives. Unless they had a better idea. They didn’t.

Off Gibson drove, hoping to make it to the Houston Astrodome and periodically stopping to squeeze in more people. After 13 hours, Gibson and his human Tetris puzzle arrived at the Astrodome. His was the first bus to arrive, beating police and emergency workers – actual trained responders. Everyone rejoiced!

Oh, wait, no. Everyone told them no.

7 Heroes Of History’s Darkest Nightmares Who Deserve Movies

3

We promise this isn’t just ruin porn…

For every gratuitous photo essay of dilapidated houses in Detroit, there’s work like Matt Emmett‘s. The British photographer spent three years traveling Europe, exploring abandoned buildings, forgotten factories, dilapidated libraries, and grimy industrial plants that are as enlightening as they are gritty.

MORE: 15 Epic Photos of Buildings You’ll Never Be Allowed to Enter

5

Abbey of Our Lady of Nový Dvůr by John Pawson

The Abbey of Our Lady of Nový Dvůr occupies an estate of 100 hectares of farmland and forest, in a remote part of Bohemia. At the time of acquisition, the site included a dilapidated baroque manor house and agricultural buildings, arranged around a courtyard. This configuration set the footprint of the main cloister complex, with the historic manor house restored to form the west wing and the remaining derelict structures replaced by new architecture, dominant amongst which is the abbey church.

The design draws on St Bernard of Clairvaux’s twelfth-century blueprint for Cistercian architecture, with its emphasis on light, simplicity of proportion and clarity of space. The masterplan includes a number of satellite structures — a freestanding chapel, agricultural buildings, guesthouse, workshops and facilities for visitors — whose construction has been ongoing since the consecration of the cloister in 2004.

Photography: Hisao Suzuki, Jens Weber

CJWHO:  facebook  |  instagram | twitter  |  pinterest  |  subscribe