Abandoned and beyond Buffalo, NY

11/27/2025

The former historic Nursing School at Millard Fillmore Gates Hospital — a place that once trained and educated healers — is now being slowly carved away for the grand future we’ve all been waiting for… a parking garage.
Because nothing says “progress” quite like bulldozing history for a few painted lines on asphalt 😏🙄

11/24/2025

This abandoned Christian Science church feels like it was built for a movie long before I ever showed up with a camera. The place doesn’t just photograph well—it performs. Light cuts through broken panes like stage lights catching a forgotten set, the dust drifting in the air like it’s been rehearsing its cues for years. Even in its silence, the building has presence… the kind that makes you stop, lower your voice, and wonder who once filled these rooms with song, prayer, or just the scrape of chairs on polished floors.

And honestly, I hope someone gives it a second act. It has the raw, cathedral-like drama a concert hall dreams of, the warm acoustics future wedding vows would echo in, the perfect kind of ruin a gallery could polish into something unforgettable. It deserves more than collapse—it deserves an audience again.

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11/18/2025

These photos are what’s left when time keeps moving and a place stays behind—but walking through this abandoned state hospital, you feel that it hasn’t quite accepted being left. Every room seems to watch you back. Every overturned chair, every rusted bedframe, every echo under your boots feels like a reminder that people once lived entire lives inside these walls, and the building hasn’t forgotten them. It’s as if the hospital is caught between memory and decay, refusing to let either win. Standing there with a camera, you don’t just document what remains—you feel the weight of what refuses to go.

11/16/2025

Two abandoned wheelchairs sit shoulder-to-shoulder in the dust, angled toward each other like they’re still holding a quiet conversation no one else is invited to hear. It’s easy to imagine the ghosts of old routines lingering here—inside jokes traded across the decades, stories whispered into the stale air.

The only sound now is the rising chorus of cicadas outside, their droning hum vibrating through broken windows and rusted frames. Heat presses down like a hand on the back of my neck, and my empty water jug reminds me I should turn back.
But curiosity has its own gravity in places like this.
So I stay.
And I listen.

11/15/2025

One of my absolute favorite channels just dropped a documentary on this former Cheektowaga gentlemen’s club—and it’s worth every minute. If you’re curious, I dropped the link in the comments!

Ruin Road

11/12/2025

11/06/2025

This rec center sat in the middle of the projects — built to keep kids off the streets, run by the police to “build trust.” That didn’t last long. Now it’s just another dead space in a city full of them. Funny how quick they vanish once the photo ops are over.
They called it progress. We just call it what’s left of Buffalos east side.

11/06/2025

Once a Catholic school, now passed into new hands. I spent time with a few of the people who kept this place alive long after the crowds were gone — the caretakers of its last years, who were later asked to close its doors for good. You could hear the ache in their stories, the kind that comes from loving something that can’t stay.

Walking through the halls, you could still feel the laughter, the echoes of lives shaped here. It’s easy to think these closures are just about buildings and paying off a debt the parishioners never owed— but they’re not. They’re about people, memories, and the quiet unraveling of the familiar. Our community feels it, even when we don’t have the words.

11/02/2025

The Buffalo Central Terminal always manages to stir something — nostalgia, frustration, arguments in the comments section. Someone recently insisted it isn’t abandoned and that we’d be arrested for trespassing. She’s not wrong — parts of it are being stabilized. But the rest stands there like a relic mid-exhale, waiting for someone to decide what comes next.

It’s strange watching beauty decay in slow motion. This place has been on pause longer than I’ve been alive (and that’s saying something).

So tell me — if you held the keys, what would you do with it? Revive it, reinvent it, or let it crumble with dignity?