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The Former Fusion Paperboard Plant (Part 3)

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Welcome back to our journey through Fusion Paperboard. In this third and final part of our series, we head south of the cardboard plant to explore its wastewater treatment facility. Fusion Paperboard was a leading independent producer of high-performance coated recycled boxboard (CRB), folding cartons, and packaging for major food and consumer product brands across North America. The Connecticut-based paper mill took pride in its sustainable practices, producing 100% recycled, food-grade paperboard. It even earned certification under the Recycled Paperboard Alliance’s (RPA-100%) Recycled Fiber Certification Program. Each year, Fusion Paperboard recycled more than 160,000 short tons of brown fiber material. That’s a significant commitment to reducing waste and promoting a circular economy. But the company’s dedication to sustainability didn’t stop there. The wastewater treatment plant played a key role in managing the environmental impact of its operations. In the next section, we’ll ta...

Exeter Energy Tire Incinerator Plant

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  We pulled up the long, curving driveway and stopped at the gate. A black pickup truck was parked off to the side. Uneasy, we backed down the road, trying to decide whether to go through with the mission. We should have. Later, as I reviewed the drone footage, I saw it — an open doorway in the back. I can only assume it led straight into the tire-burning facility. But at the time, it didn’t show up on my controller’s feed. I wish we’d at least circled, and taken a look at the rear of the plant before giving up and heading to another site. That hesitation cost us. If we hadn’t let a parked truck shake our resolve, we could have been the only explorers on the entire East Coast to document one of the last two tire-to-energy plants in the country — the only one in New England. It wasn’t just a massive industrial site; it was the region’s primary solution for handling end-of-life tires, processing countless loads into energy. But we never went back. By the time we worked up the nerve a...

National Silk Dyeing Company Valley Works

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The first time I set foot here, it was clear: this place was home to those with nowhere else to go. A worn dirt path led me from a nearly abandoned street into what remained of an old brick building. A makeshift shelter—pieced together from boards and tarps—stood neatly in the hollowed-out front, right beside a waste bin. The building had been gutted by fire long ago, leaving behind only a shell.   I moved carefully, not wanting to disturb anyone who might be inside. The path led me up a weathered wooden plank, serving as a walkway where stairs once stood. Stepping into what had been the main room, I found myself surrounded by scattered belongings—broken bicycles, old tools, and household items left in disarray.   To my right, a large blue tent was set up snugly against the wall, a stark contrast to the chaos around it. Someone lived there. This wasn’t just a forgotten space; it was a home, however fragile.   Alone, carrying an expensive camera, I felt the ...

Orange Memorial Hospital of Essex County

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  Four photos. That’s all I managed to take of the abandoned Orange Memorial Hospital in Orange, New Jersey. I had explored countless forgotten places before, but this one was different. It wasn’t just the eerie emptiness or the decay—it was something heavier, something unsettling.   Stepping through an open window, I was immediately hit by the overpowering stench of human waste. Inside, the destruction was almost surreal. Time, vandals, squatters, and thrill-seeking teenagers had left the place in ruins. Papers were strewn across the floors, ductwork hung from the ceilings, and walls bore the scars of years of neglect.   But it wasn’t just the sights or smells that got to me. It was the feeling. A thick, unshakable presence weighed on me, like I was being watched. I had explored countless abandoned buildings alone, yet I had never felt this way before. Something about this place wasn’t right.   Despite my unease, I pressed on, making my way toward the...