It was a late Sunday afternoon and my assumptions were correct. The old railroad grade I found on a topographic map lead right up behind the abandoned 1800s era Kirkbride building. There was still track in place, and rumors that a shortline entrepreneur (Jimmy Wilson of NY&GL infamy) was looking to reopen the line. I loaded up a fresh roll of Fuji film into my Canon A2E, because digital photo quality still sucked. The campus was still active, security was rumored to be on point, and the fire escape was janky AF. It was the spring of 2002, and the spot was Hudson Psych.
This was our first major exploring trip outside of the transit-accessible NYC area. Hudson was the final stop on a long weekend where me and M hit nearly a dozen spots. We thought for sure the fire escape would get us in.
Alas, it did not. Nearly every window was boarded up tight. We went all the way to the top, assuming there would have to be some open window or door overlooked by security. There were none—a testimonial both to how persistent security and maintenance was at the time, as well as how few people were ‘urban exploring’. This was before instagram, before social media, and before the campus was fully closed. I knew of only two people who got in, though I’m sure some local kids had to have as well. The internet was barely used to talk about exploring and nowhere near the level it is today.
As persistent as they were, we were just as determined. We scouted around and didn’t find many other areas ideal for breaking in. This one corner was a little out of the way, too inaccessible for their routine car-based patrols. We finally found a window we liked, but it was eight feet up.
I usually handled getting us in, but M was easier to boost up there and she was itching to rip a board off. It took a lot of prying—as it was nailed in good—but it cracked open. The smell of lead paint and rotting wood flowed outward, practically lifting us up into this glorious window. After a lot of time sizing the place up, we were in.
Climbing up and in, we were greeted by a good sized room, showing all the signs of decay one might find in a building that has seen no maintenance since forever. The floor under the window was soft from water damage, but everything else seemed a-ok. (Two years later a fellow explorer would hop through this hole and fall halfway through the floor).
At last, we were in. Hours of fun await. We went down a short hall to the main corridor. There, M stopped at the doorway, looking downward. Did she drop something? Was there a problem.
A big problem. There was no hallway.
We saw a lot of shit in the city, blown out buildings, no clearance subway tunnels, hostile squatters in a burning building, and more than a few angry dogs. This was the first whole ass building we saw collapsed in on itself (definitely not the last – Greenpoint Terminal was a similar age and as bad with the collapsed floors).
We were not ready to figure out how to get down and around this rubble filled chaos. It didn’t help that the sun was going down and LED flashlights didn’t exist. It was two hours back to the city and we both had work in the morning and a rental car to return. Needless to say, we were not going to venture further. It was still an amazing delight to see. That was the first of a few times I went to Hudson Psych.
It was years before I got around to going again. For awhile the reasons were drama related: taunting an urbexer or three who literally thought they owned it, and later still, taunting a shitbag graffiti artist who also thought he owned it (surprise: go over my friends in a ‘bando and your ass is getting lined).
A few years later Hudson caught on fire for the first time. Unsurprisingly one of those shitbags was present that day. They said it was lightning that started that fire but we all know it was g*d trying to zap that worthless pest. I’ll always regret not giving Junkyard 5 bucks to literally shit on him at a party.
I went again in 2010, with my future wife and a cool dude that lived nearby. It was a chill time, visiting the admin for the first time. No gatekeepers putting up their own locks and stalking in the bushes waiting to call the cops on other explorers. It turned out to be a very relaxing trip from of urbex drama. I thought it would be my last trip there. Then came 2012, and again for the last time in 2024.
Only on this last trip to Hudson did it truly feel comfy. I was with good people, and met even more good people. It was the definition of chill. They had a whole ass balcony set up with hammocks, a library, seats, and random finds pulled from the rubble. Everyone had a true respect for the place. Shithawk took the time to guide me through the place again, highlighting the new roof that was slapped onto the admin building. It felt like maybe this place was going to be ok afterall. Twenty years of random visits here and this was one of the only times it felt like visiting an old friend.
I was just thinking yesterday morning how much I wanted a repeat of that day again soon. And that’ll hopefully happen… probably not at this spot.
On June 3rd 2026, the building caught fire again. This time it seems multiple fires were set. Buildings like these, with no electricity and no one living in them, don’t just spontaneously catch fire in the middle of a moderately warm cloudless day. Someone did this, and there’s a short list of people with the desire to do it.
The deep pocket pedo-class billionaires who buy places like this are all too happy to hire an unseen hand to burn it down. Their goal is obviously money. They can build high end housing, an AI data center, or an ICE concentration camp. The people behind this are the kind of Epstein class people who are never fully investigated or held accountable. Their pockets are so deep they can sit on this property for years before making their next evil moves. We’ve seen this over and over and over again. Greenpoint Terminal, the similarly aged warehouse complex on the Brooklyn waterfront, is now finally set to become high rises, nearly two decades after its similar arson fire.
In a country run by capitalist swine, preservation is rarely the outcome.
is Hudson over? It’s too soon to say right now. Creatives found small pockets of Greenpoint Terminal for parties right up until recently. Perhaps someone will actually be caught this time, or the owners held accountable (yeah right). The future is always unknown, and the past often repeats itself, so it’s probably just a matter of time before this place is bulldozed and reused in the worst possible ways.
RIP Hudson Psych. I’m amazed you lasted this long, and annoyed that this time it’s probably over. The fire is still smoldering as I type this, so we’ll see if there’s any rubble left…
