Hook Hospital In Flames: An escape from Crack Addicts and potential smokey death.

Peaceful, serene driveway leadingup to the large vandalized abandoned hospital.
Piles of trash out Front, smashed windows
the main entrance
the hospitals name is neatly inscribed above the columns.
Kids toys... a big wheel and doll house-castle lay broken apart in the dust and chaos of the basement.
Pipes and wiring dangle from the basement ceiling. Just ahead is the darkness leading towards steps up and what mighta been an old emergency room.


As we begrudging left the meeting location late without a member that planned to attend, we had no idea how fortunate the delay was.


Arriving at our intended target location, we are presented with one of the many juxtapositions to be found in this area of Brooklyn: a rotting, abandoned hospital sitting square in the center of a block that is lined with well maintained homes and a newly built Jewish elementary school. This neighbor had been a predominately poor one, but the Hasidic Jews have truly settled here, creating stark contrasts between well maintained, beautiful streets, and poorer, minority dominated streets with many boarded up, burned out buildings.

In its day, this hospital must surely have been an elegant one. The driveway forms a semi circle from the street, wrapping around a tree lined area to the main door. The trees are still here, though there is much trash and high weeds as well.

Given its location, it is little surprise to find that most windows have been shattered by either gunfire or rock wielding youth. It's main entrance and many ground level windows are sealed up with cinderblocks. Some graffiti mares the building's facade. Yet despite the obvious damage, the location has charm. The structure, with embedded columns and thick brick, is inscribed and dated as having been built in 1917.

We inspect the right and rear sides of the building from the exterior, and locate a perfectly suitable entrance on the front of the building. Someone has ripped a hole in a cinderblock wall, and been gracious enough to place steps down into the basement constructed of these blocks and a table.

Just after we enter said location we hear some ghetto squatters approach behind us. s they enter we make no attempt to hide. These may very well be criminal minded people, but hey, we're white, and I have a police radio on me. They're friendly enough, though I sure won't trust them. Afterall, It's 1pm, and they're drinking 'king cobra' beer already. They head into the darkness down the hallway and the lady in the group of 3 states flatly that we shouldn't head up to 'her floor' cuz she says she's got a dog up there. Well OK then!

Knowing the the building is heavily populated with questionable characters, we confine our activities to the front room. Trash is everywhere. Mirrors that once lined the columns are now smashed into pieces. We look around for about 2 or 3 minutes as another man exits the building, and as we head towards the exit, an older, grandfatherly type black man exits with us.

He was saying hi to us before we could even saw him in the darkness. He has this aural about him of a wise man who's seen a lot in his lifetime (despite the can of King Cobra in his hand). He tells us how the building was built in 1917, pointing out the inscription on the front wall, and points out spray painted markings on the driveway where they were surveying the location, a prelude to either knocking it down or redeveloping it as a high school or apartments. As he's telling us all of this, a mere moment after we've gotten outside, we hear a man on the second floor yell "get out - get out - pausing before saying "get out" again. We all look at each other not sure what he's talking about. I mutter "wow - what's that about - sounds like that guy is having a rough morning" before the sirens which were just seconds ago a mere background noise grow very loud, and 2 fire trucks stop short in the street at the end of the driveway.

Could it be? We all look upward... and are mystified.

----> continued --->