From
atop the modern seven story building, one can look down to a slightly
older building, three stories high. The smaller structure is crowned
with a copper-plated dome, pushed through the roof from within by
several colossal columns. Below the dome lies hospital rubble, a
timeline of abandonment and neglect. Narrow hospital beds and mattresses,
piles of records mixed in with crumbling asbestos tiles, and scraps
of garments spread over the hard cement floors. A trip through the
debris-littered corridors leads to many small, individual rooms,
barely big enough for a bed and a chair. Down in the basement are
a few even more disturbing scenes, not to be mentioned here for
fear of 'crossing over the line.'
Most of the other furniture has
been tossed out the windows