Digital Ink'd

Photo courtesy of NYC Municipal Services / 1940s.nyc From Mack Trucks to Apartments: A Century on Empire Boulevard For most of the twentieth century, the block at 73-99 Empire Boulevard in Crown Heights handled the heavy work of the city. Trucks came in for service. Tires were swapped out. Parts were stocked and sold. The buildings on this stretch of Brooklyn were built for vehicles, and for about sixty years, that's exactly what they served. The site directly neighbors the much taller Ebbets Field Apartment complex, which is the housing that replaced the ballpark. By 2025, both were rubble. By September 2026, the foundation of a 13-story apartment building was going in. A hundred years of industrial and automotive history on a single block, cleared in a matter of months. The main building at 73-99 Empire Boulevard went up in 1925 and opened as a Mack Truck auto service facility. At 29,000 square feet, it was built for the scale of commerc...

There is a daycare operating now at 318 North Main Street in Southington, Connecticut. Next door is an ice cream shop. Down the row sit a jeweler and a medical office, arranged in a clean commercial plaza that could pass for any small-town strip in New England. What is underneath all of it is a different story. Before the plaza, there was a fire. Before the fire, there was a corporation that dissolved and left its contamination for the town to deal with. Before that, there was a vat of nickel-chrome solution laced with cyanide that cracked and leaked onto the concrete floor, and nobody around to take legal responsibility for the 500 gallons of it spreading across the building. And before any of that, for nearly a century, there was Beaton and Corbin. It seems Beaton & Corbin started out manufacturing knives before producing plumbing products. The property on North Main Street has been in ...

Photo courtesy of the Winchester Tax Office Pins in the Brook: The Last Ruins of the Union Pin Company J and I came at it through the trees. No path, just tall standing trees and the kind of undergrowth that swats at your shins and grabs your laces, until the canopy thinned and we found what was left. A turbine, tall and rusted, rising out of the woods beside a brook in Winsted, Connecticut. A small generator sat on top of it, also rusted, also still. Beside that, set back from the tree line and facing the residential houses across Lake Street, a sealed and boarded building held its ground. It was August 2019, midday, the kind of heat that slows everything down. We photographed the turbine carefully, then picked our way downstream along the slippery rocks of the brook that fed toward the Mad River past Boyd Street. What J never mentioned, and what I never thought to look for, was the hydropower outlet tucked behind the thick trees just...