VA Hospital III

Emerging from the heavy institutional door that lead from pipe crawlway to main floor felt a little like stepping out into a real world after being trapped in funhouse torture land. We stashed our gear in a hematology lab and went to explore the building. The care taken to prevent intruders had semi-paid off inside. There was almost no graffiti and very little trashing had taken place. The occasional room had some mischief – one office was covered in a thin layer of jet black copier toner, another floor saw every interior window smashed – but the vandalism we usually see when kids get in and start behaving like wrecking crews was absent. Pieces of equipment still sported their “excess” tags, although it seemed clear that these bits were going nowhere.

Much of what made the hospital a hospital was gone. But many of the heavy pieces remained, seemingly abandoned there. And what a waste. X-ray machines, dental chairs, machinery and lights, beds – mostly still sitting quietly in their attentive posture awaiting their patients. A lot of the furniture was obviously gone – not every room had not a bed. But much had been left. Office furniture, lots of it, was corralled in waiting rooms – waiting. Were these pieces going to see a recycled life? I suppose it’s still possible that all this stuff could be donated somewhere. But it seems unlikely. And with every passing day another team of intruders reaches the inner bowels of the structure with more possibility for vandalism. Not all intruders are exploring photographers, many are kids hoping only to make a mess they’re not required to clean.

Every stairway door we encountered was disfigured by crowbar at its latching point. With great intentionality, someone had destroyed every door so secure closure would have been impossible…and had removed all latching mechanisms just to be safe. It felt very odd. Also on every floor we heard the wispy chirp of the low battery signal in the smoke alarms. The note bent as it, too, slowly died. At first we were surprised by the electronic beep, wondering momentarily if they could be motion detectors (we were screwed if they were). But it was obvious they were not as, like slight auditory ghosts, they simply followed us from floor to floor. Eventually the sound faded into the background and re-entered our consciousness only toward the end of the day as darkness fell and everything, once again, became unfamiliar.