The Old Jail on New Street

Snow lightly falling, I ventured into the depths of Newark to the Science district around Rutgers to see the Old Jail of New Street. Built in 1837 for the staggering sum of $30,000 to replace it's predecessor that burned down two years before. Just to put that in perspective, that's about $14.5 to $16.5 million dollars in today's money.

I took an interest in this place after talking to a guy who worked on it's replacement: it was there he learned the first rule of plumbing: never bite your nails.

So, not getting much of an oppertunity to explore inside, I'll leave you with these shots.














Merry Christmas.

Be legendary, my friends.

-AKtheJefe

Pleasureland: Lost

I heard from a person who tried to visit it that there was large construction equipment around.

Not a good sign.

Having visited Pleasureland i kid you not two weeks ago, and it was fine, coming here today was like an unmercifully hard punch to the stomach.

Abandoned for decades, withstanding the ravages of Mother Nature's hellish, unmerciful and unrelenting assault, and years of being raided by punks with spray cans, and crews looking to level the once proud and family-friendly attraction.

I'll leave you with the pictures of this fine, fine place.



















































Seeing the three skeletons of the diving boards standing proud, almost defiant against the oncoming -looming- wrecking crews, reminded me of the parable of Christ's Crucifixion.

"One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at Him: “Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!”
But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don't you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”
Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 23: 39-43

Indeed this place has done nothing wrong, and deserves no punishment but to while away and let Nature take it's course, being visited like a holy shrine to Explorers. Now, as Sunday comes to a close and Monday morning drives ever closer and the Crews take to their equipment to tear this sacred place down... we remember not as it closed, in the wake of a violent massacre, not as it was destroyed, but as it was when open: a place of happiness and bliss.

Of Paradise.

Rest in Peace, Pleasureland. 1934 - 2010