August 19th - Day 3

Gary, Ind. - Chicago Ill.

            In many Greek/Shakespearian tragedies there was a euphoric high reached at some point in the plot that was quickly followed by a hellish low for the main character. In today’s journey such a plot was played out in Gary, Indiana with Noah and Eric, two explorers from Chicago.

            The day began in sheer amazement and bewilderment at the sight of Gary’s dramatic decay. Vacant lots and abandoned buildings occupy nearly every city block south of Interstate 94 while the downtown (or CBD) stands vacant and abandoned. Streets that should be teeming with pedestrian and vehicular traffic on a nice Sunday afternoon have none. The only traffic present on the roads is the garbage that seems to overflow from yards and onto the streets. Urban planners have a term for such a situation, “The End of the Line.” Gary however, is not merely at “The End of the Line”; it has cleared the buffer and is sitting at the bottom of Lake Michigan. The only reasonable solution at this point is to just start over again, for the buildings that do remain intact are woefully decayed.

            I was so overwhelmed by this sight of utter decay that Eric had to tell me to stop and park. If he had not I would have probably continued driving around in circles in a state of shock and amazement. Our first stop of the day was at the Presbyterian Church in downtown Gary. It was simply stunning, far too beautiful and breathtaking for words to describe. With a six story sandstone cathedral and two to four story school to boot, I could not comprehend that this was abandoned. But it was, and entry to it was far too easy for a building like this.

            Immediately to the left of the entryway was the auditorium for the school and I was immediately drawn to it. The four or so story ceiling was simply amazing and the clothes covered stage with intact scene painting helped to give it a surreal feel. After taking some pictures I headed off to the cathedral which was located on the south side of the building. As I entered the cathedral all I could do was crank my head toward the ceiling and whistle. Before me stood spectacular architecture that was attempting to survive the ravages of time. Words and pictures cannot even possibly come close to describing the feelings and awesome sight of the cathedral. To fully experience it one must travel to Gary and witness it first hand.

            The rest of the building was interesting in its own right but it could not simply compare to the cathedral and theatre. One memorable experience however was running around the building pretending to be in Normandy (during WW II) while war planes in the air show flew above us.

            After meeting with Seth, all of us walked 10 minutes to Gary Union Station. Upon arrival I was willing (and still am willing) to put up a large sum of American money (as Canadian currency is perceived to be weak) to bet anyone that this building will never be revitalized by a private firm. My reasoning is based on the simple fact that the station is isolated by a freeway to the south, two sets of railroad tracks on both sides and a giant steel mill to the north. Add to that the fact that no one lives in downtown Gary and you have a building that will see a wrecking ball more likely than another paying tenant.

            I truly love this building for two reasons. The first being that time has really had its way with the large room and has made it extremely decayed. Secondly, both rail lines on either side of the station are insanely busy and for a train buff and explorer this was a perfect combination.

            Seth had to go to work so that left me and the Chicagoland explorers to explore the rest of Gary. A short walk from the Union Station was Gary’s former post office. The symbols that once represented the power this building possessed had now come to represent the decay that the building and Gary experienced. Its eagles no longer majestically flew high above the clouds but rather sulked in a decadence of decay. Although not much was left in the post office’s main room the decay once again pulled up the slack. Trees and a plethora of plants flourished in the sorting room’s wooden block flooring where Gary’s lifeline to the outside world once bustled with activity. After exploring the basement and roof all three of us made our way a block or two to the remains of an auditorium.  

            The remains of the auditorium consisted only of the main auditorium entry as the rest of the building had burnt to the ground. Although the concept of having only the auditorium left was interesting, the truly fascinating part was the second story and its veritable garden. From the top of the roof I spotted a rather large red bricked building and seeing how this was Gary, I knew it was abandoned.

            One of the great things about Gary is that all of its interesting abandonment’s are located within walking distance (with the exception being CG’s Paradise). The Jackson Five Theatre was no exception as it took only five minutes to reach it and enter its bowels. At first I was unaware that the building we had entered was actually a theatre. The large amount of garbage in addition to the amazingly high ceiling reminded me of Winnipeg’s Amy St. Incinerator and so I assumed the building to be an incinerator. However as my eyes adjusted to the limited light I soon began to see seats and then a stage with a painted backdrop. Suddenly everything made sense and I became giddy with excitement. I quickly rushed up to the upper deck and began to take everything in. As my eyes further adjusted to the light I began to see the full extent of the building’s condition. There was no decorative ceiling to be found nor was there any discernable architecture to be found on the walls. The grandeur that accompanied such a theatre was long gone and upon reflection, it is quite symbolic of Gary’s rise and fall as a metropolitan area.

            It was on this euphoric high that my hellish fall occurred, literally. Perched above the stairs on a concrete ledge sat my camera. I had already taken one picture and was taking a second to make composition adjustments when I heard the slight sound of concrete falling below. I thought nothing of it but not two seconds later my eyes opened wide with horror as my tri-pod with camera plunged the 15 or so feet onto the concrete stairs. All I could do was gasp and hope for the best. Unfortunately, my luck had run out and my camera was out of commission. (Eric and Noah said that I took it quite well but they did not see me at the hostel later that night.)

            Before leaving Gary we decided to travel to an old dairy factory that appeared to be abandoned. Seth, Eric and Noah had never entered the building so it was anyone’s guess as to the state of the building. Upon entry into the grounds it was quite clear that the factory was in no shape to be used. I cannot remember much of what happened during the exploration for the only thing I could think about was my camera. However some of the highlights include the laboratory that contained a large amount of HCL vials, a crap load of water packets for emergencies and the packaging room.

            The shock of not having a camera really hit me back in my hostel in Chicago. I was quite depressed so I decided to drown my sorrows in a Chicago Deep Dish pizza. It did not take long for me to find some locals whom were willing to take me to a kickass pizza place. As they took me there we began to talk and I explained why I was here and why I had not experienced any “tourist crap” as I put it. They were shocked to learn that I was in the South End of Chicago by myself and were more concerned about the people living there than the condition of the buildings. The woman whom I was walking with also made a point to say that she would not even drive in the south side alone in broad daylight. To go off on a tangent many north Chicagoans in the area I was staying in feared the south end of the city, as if every man, women and child were out to get them simply because they were white. Although some of the African Americans I spoke too had some hesitations about going into the south end they did not evoke horrific and terrifying notions of the area. The poor’s needs are often a second thought and this is quite evident as gentrification continues its march southward towards Archer St. Clearly racism is still alive in Chicago and is still dividing the city into the rich north and poor south.

            After thanking the locals for their directions and interesting conversation I went to the pizza place and ordered a medium sized Cheese deep dish pizza with Italian Sausage. My intentions were on eating the entire pizza in the joint but that notion quickly went out the window when I saw the size of the pizza. A thick layer of dough, followed by an even thicker layer of cheese and sausage was topped off by two layers of sauce in between another layer of cheese. It was pure heaven and I quickly forgot about my camera for a while. Three pieces later my stomach was bulging and I was ready to call it a night.