Weekend Excursions

Weekend outings, particularly for photographing old abandoned sites, offer a refreshing break from the routine of weekday work life. There’s a unique satisfaction in encountering the distinct scent of abandonment and capturing the scenes that unfold. It’s even more enjoyable when sharing the exploration experience with someone eager to embrace the thrill of venturing into derelict places.

The weekend began with a visit to the First German Reformed Church in Cincinnati. Built in 1850, the church boasts a limestone facade adorned with four sizable stained glass windows on its side walls. Initially serving a predominantly German-American community, it stood not far from downtown. Over time, demographic shifts led to its closure in 1970, followed by a brief revival that ceased in 1975. Since at least 1993, the property has remained vacant, aside from the basement being used for storage.

First German Reformed Church Offices and Sundries

Little has changed inside since the first visit two years ago. While the windows were once covered, they have since been uncovered. Exterior doors, once boarded up, have been partially freed. Graffiti now mars the sanctuary, and increased water damage is evident from the deteriorating ceiling tiles.

Next on the itinerary was the Parker Tobacco Company in Maysville, Kentucky, a familiar haunt. Once a thriving tobacco redrying and processing plant, it ceased operations in 1997. On my first visit in 2003, the factory appeared remarkably intact, with some equipment still functional. Offices housed dusty computers, files, and books, while old photographs remained preserved in a safe. There was no graffiti or vandalism at that time.

However, a fire in 2007 ravaged the rear wing, destroying boilers and processing equipment. Ruled as arson, it was part of a string of fires that summer in the city. Subsequent deterioration ensued, with offices trashed and extensive water damage causing mold infestation.

In March 2010, demolition work commenced at Parker Tobacco, though progress remained slow by November.

During our exploration, we encountered two former Parker employees on the roof. Engaging in conversation, they shared nostalgic anecdotes about the property, reminiscent of discussions I had with Marquette Cement Manufacturing Company employees. Their melancholic tones reflected the loss of what was once a significant industrial presence in Maysville, intertwined with the city’s tobacco heritage.

One of the men pointed out a detail we had missed earlier: faded paint on a warehouse side, indicating its past use for leaf tobacco.

Leaving Parker Tobacco behind, we journeyed south to the William Tarr House. Abandoned since at least 1985, the imposing Federal-style structure, later embellished with Italianate trim, stands alongside a major highway. Water damage has compromised much of the interior, recently causing the rear second floor to collapse. Structural issues threaten the residence’s stability, including rotting box gutters and loose framework. Once likely owned by A. J. Hitt, a mill owner from nearby Millersburg, the property was later acquired by William Tarr, a farmer and distiller associated with several regional distilleries.

However, the visit revealed signs of intrusion, with broken windows indicating a loss of the house’s former exclusivity.