Posts Tagged ‘Arson’

Last Looks

The Abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

We lost a dear friend of ours two weeks ago. It still hurts thinking about him. We’d known him for over ten years, and I personally worked with him on over a hundred different movies/commercials/TV shows/live performances/etc. So this piece is dedicated to Special Effects wizards, friend of the site, and all around stand-up guy Skippy. I hadn’t seen him since the pandemic started. The last time I saw him, we were working together on a short film up in Worcester, MA. But the sad part is, I had no idea that this would be the last time we’d see each other. It makes my heart break, wishing I had known, and wishing I had told him how good of a friend he was to both Lassie and I. It’s an unsettling fact that many of us take for granted. Whenever you spend time with someone, you very well could be seeing them for the last time. And you’d have no idea. Life moves so slow sometimes. But when it moves fast, it’s amazing how much you can lose in the blink of an eye. So to everyone reading this, I have a homework assignment for you. A dare, even. Reach out to someone you haven’t talked to in awhile. You never know how much hearing from you might mean to them. And always make sure your friends and loved ones know how you feel. Don’t leave things left unsaid. You never know when you might be seeing them for the last time.

This month’s subject is something that’s been on our list for a very long time. But since it was so far away, we just never found the time to go see it. But with a film premiere in Boston, we decided to take a pit stop on our way up. This is the abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station. This place is legendary amongst our community, and for good reason. There’s honestly too much history here to fit into one little paragraph, so I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout-out to another friend of the site, Jason Allard. He is an absolute pro, and his “Abandoned From Above” series is one of our favorite things to watch. A couple of months ago, he did a fabulous video on this place that I cannot recommend it enough. Here is the link – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tpCtUOkCb0 And if you have time, please do give him a subscribe. If you’re in New England, he does some of the best work we’ve ever seen. But if you prefer to read, here are some quick facts. The base was first opened during the early days of WWII. It’s main claim to fame was being the main headquarters of the US Navy’s anti-submarine blimp division. During the Cold War, it transitioned into a more traditional airfield focused around homeland defense. The base was unfortunately forced to close it’s doors for good in the late 1990’s due to military budget cuts.

The defunct air base now lies spanning across the towns of Abington, Weymouth, and Rockland. And her former territory is slowly being taken over. Apartment buildings and construction keep creeping closer and closer to the property. Last year, arsonists burned down several of the smaller buildings on the far side of the base. Now all that stands are the two derelict control towers and a few small hangar bays. It was over a mile trekking across the old runway to get to our destination. Though the sky was grey, the tips of the towers began to peak through the treeline. And I can tell you know, the towers are breathtaking. Like I said earlier, there are two towers. Orange and White. Orange Tower is the first one to greet you on the trail. It is the older of the two, has a strong military atheistic, and is in the worst shape. Broken glass, watermelon rinds, and empty spray paint bottles coat the ground. The tower casts a long, grim shadow over the land. Though we were able to get inside, we did not climb to the top of this one. The staircase is easily accessible, but its steps are absolutely rusted to Hell. They are coated in graffiti, and most are now just flimsy/jagged metal that look like they could collapse at any moment. So we unfortunately had to enjoy Orange Tower from the ground. But even from down here, it is truly a sight to behold.

White Tower, on the other hand, is a completely different animal. Unlike Orange Tower, this one was never actually used. The base was shut down before construction could be completed. It has a more modern look and feel to it. Almost like something you’d see at an airport, as opposed to a military base. Lying a few dozen yards down the path, this grand monolith stands tall and foreboding against the cold sky. What I found most unusual about White Tower is that it appears to be much more untouched than its counterpart. With Orange Tower, stuff was all over the ground. Graffiti was everywhere. It feels absolutely trashed. Though clearly scarred by her more vicious visitors, the spirit of White Tower still appears to be quite strong. As if only the brave or the stupid continue forward to see it. Well, we were both today, because we climbed all the way to the top of this old guardian. We went up floor after floor, witnessing true urban decay and destruction everywhere we looked. Unlike Orange Tower, the stairs were quite sturdy. Clearly not too much stuff had been left behind either. Though whenever we did come across some old relics, they had been absolutely destroyed. We even got a peak down the old elevator shaft. And once we finally reached the top, the view is quite grand. A mist was in the air, and we could see all across Eastern Massachusetts.

As I mentioned earlier, there are a few smaller hangar bays still left standing on the far side of the base. But there really isn’t too much to see here. They are absolutely coated in graffiti and filled to the brim with garbage. Probably because they are much closer to the road and much easier to access than the two towers. During our long walk back to the car, I would periodically turn around and look back at White and Orange peaking through the treetops. They grew smaller and less visible the farther we moved away. Eventually, they completely disappeared from sight. Vanishing amongst the thick treeline and fading sunlight. It made me a little bit sad knowing that I would probably never see them again. With the continuing development of the land and the persistent vandal problem, it’s hard to say just how much longer these old warhorses have left. Time will tell. But I would highly recommend a visit to any experienced urban explorers. This place is definitely not for beginners, tourists, or the faint of heart. As always, I encourage any potential visitors to please be safe and respectful. The abandoned South Weymouth Naval Air Station is truly an amazing place, and let’s try to keep it that way for as long as possible. It’s an adventure that I will certainly never forget, and a place that I hope to someday see again. But until that day comes, goodbye for now.

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Dancing in the Moonlight – The Abandoned Lincoln Lake Lodge

Posted: September 20, 2018 by kingleser in #postaday, Abandoned, Abandoned Attractions, Abandoned Cabin, Abandoned Connecticut, abandoned home, Abandoned Hotel, Abandoned House, Abandoned Massachusetts, abandoned new england, Abandoned New Hampshire, Abandoned New York, Abandoned Park, Abandoned Places, Abandoned Resort, Abandoned Restaurant, Abandoned Rhode Island, Abandoned Summer Camp, Abandoned Theaters, Abandoned USA, Abandoned Vermont, Abandoned Wonders, Beaches, Broken, Closed, commercial, Connecticut, darkness, Death, Destruction, East Haddam Connecticut, empty, Exploration, exploring the abandoned, fire, for sale, Forgotten, forgotten beauty, forgotten home, Ghosts, Haunting, Hiking, History, left behind, Movies, Mystery, nature, new england, photography, Ruins, Safety First, Uncategorized, Urban Decay, Urban Exploration, Urban Exploring, Urbex, writing
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Dancing in the Moonlight

The Abandoned Lincoln Lake Lodge

Written by: Wilk

Photographs by: Lassie

Imagine your life without music. Just try to picture it for a second or two. Imagine not having anything to tap your feet to while on a long car ride. Imagine your favorite movies or television shows without their iconic scores. Imagine not having your favorite tunes to pick you up when you’re feeling down. Music is what makes things feel larger than life. It’s truly the universal language of the world. It can bring out any emotions that it dares to conjure. Whether you just need some background noise to liven a situation, or something to really reflect to, a little bit of music can go a long way. When you take it away, all that is left is the sound of silence. It is the raw emptiness that haunts the air, and can sometimes make life feel a little too real. We have felt it many times before in our travels. It can be really scary at times, like in an abandoned hospital corridor. But it can also be really sad, like in an empty bedroom of a derelict house. There are few places we have ever been to over the years that have exemplified this haunting feeling more than this one. Most abandoned places we have visited have their own surreal sense of silence. But when a place was once home to the lively chorus of music, the silence seems to be even grimmer.

May I introduce you to the Lincoln Lake Lodge, the unofficial cousin of Sunrise Resort. Unfortunately, we are going to have to bring up the latter’s name quite a bit in this piece. They both experienced very similar beginnings and ends. And they coincidentally happen to be in very close proximity to each other. Unfortunately, information on Lincoln Lake Lodge has proven to be far scarcer than for her much more famous contemporary. First founded in 1958 by the Davis Family, not the same founders of the nearby Sunrise, the lodge was established as a musical venue and recreational area. Many iconic acts of the past had performed at this local venue, allegedly even Frank Sinatra. Picnicking at this outdoor venue while listening to some live music was this place’s calling card. Much like her contemporary, the lodge was a roaring success for many years. People from all over the country came to see the live music and stay at the lodge. Tragically, around the same time as Sunrise, the lodge went out of business and up for sale. Sadly, there doesn’t seem to have not been any takers. Recent hurricanes, arson damage, and the slow decay of time has started to tear this old relic apart. And the property is still owned by the Davis Family.

Though they share a very similar aesthetic, Sunrise Resort and Lincoln Lake Lodge are very different. To compare sizes, Sunrise Resort is the Sun as Lincoln Lake Lodge is the Moon. Sunrise had its own on-site pool and riverfront property. Dozens of families and couples could stay at the resort for their holidays at a time. There were over eighty buildings that were demolished when the former resort was converted into a state park. Lincoln Lake Lodge has a pond swimming area, and had a much more intimate setting for its guests. You can count the number of buildings here on one hand. Only a handful of people would actually stay in the cabins. The lodge was much more of a music venue than a vacation destination. Yet both have a near identical architectural structure,  and the same white/green color scheme. They both look and feel like something right out of the Dirty Dancing era. In a sense, the lodge was simply a more rustic version of nearby Sunrise. But conversely from her now demolished cousin, the lodge seems to have flown under the radar. It took many weeks for me to find out anything about it. The place has been under my vary nose for all these years, and I had never even heard of it. It also took us several tries to go see it.

The remains of Lincoln Lake Lodge lie off an old country road that many locals use as a shortcut to bypass Main Street. The first time we went to visit this place in the late summer of 2018, we arrived to find a young couple having sex in the parking area. I’m not kidding. It was a first for us. We pulled into the old vacant lot, next to the only car there and bam. There they were in going at it in the backseat. I think we startled them as much as they startled us. To save everyone the awkwardness, we decided to just come back another day. And not park at the lodge’s old lot. So a week later, after some exploring of the local area, we found an old pathway around the pond and through the woods into the abandoned grounds. To me, it truly felt like Sunrise Resort incarnate. The old buoys were still in the pond, marking the swimming area. The white walls of the buildings were now stained with graffiti. Trash and liter is just bloody everywhere. The grass grows wild and free, overtaking the old gazebo and basketball courts. An old satellite dish has fallen from her perch. And to top it all off, there is a lot of fire damage. The silence around the grounds was deafening. From the music hall to the residence buildings, everything was utterly quiet.

Though each building on the property had its own unique feel and it’s own share of challenges, the main hall of Lincoln Lake Lodge was by far the most haunting. The once lively dance floor is now a blank and barren wasteland. There is an eerie stillness to a place that was once all about movement. We also found all kinds of old artifacts scattered across the ground. Televisions. Skateboards. Makeshift beds. Couches. Clearly, somebody has been either squatting here or using it as some sort of hangout. The darkest, and most haunting, thing to me that we found was the old piano. This grand instrument, which was once used to inspire all kinds of emotions through her beautiful songs, is now a broken and abused relic of the past. Turned over on her side, with many keys missing, it was truly moving to see such a once treasured item in such a state of decay. Her tunes once filled these now empty halls with the sounds of music and life. Now, there is only the sound of silence left here at the Lincoln Lake Lodge. And the only dancers for this dark tune are the shadows and spirits old. I don’t know what the future holds for this place. It was truly a haunting spectacle to behold. But hopefully, someday, music will once again fill these darkened halls.

“Music is the moonlight in the gloomy night of life.” – Jean Paul