Abandoned Dundas Castle in upstate New York is said to be cursed: its builder died and his family were committed to asylums before they could even move in.

Ralph Wurts-Dundas (1871-1921) was a wealthy recluse who, since he could not BE a Scottish laird, did the next best thing by living like one… at least, that was the plan. In 1907, Dundas bought a log cabin on the banks of the Beaverkill River, deep in New York’s lush and forested Catskill Mountains. The cabin, known locally as “Beaverkill Lodge”, featured many comfort and convenience features but for Dundas only a stone-walled and luxuriously furnished castle would do.

Highlands Fling

By 1915, blueprints had been drawn up and several dozen Finnish stonemasons were brought to the site. To help keep costs reasonable, thousands of locally sourced river stones were used to construct the castle’s three-story-tall walls and grand turreted “witch’s hat” gate towers. Construction moved ahead in fits and starts, however. Dundas was both meticulous and impulsive, at times ordering entire completed sections to be torn down and reconstructed so as to better match his vision.

All the while, Dundas’ emotionally-unstable wife and sheltered daughter lived in a side wing of the original log lodge so the family patriarch could see to their immediate needs. World War I came and went with the nascent Dundas Castle still unfinished, although some fixtures, rugs, and tapestries had already been delivered and were in storage pending installation. Then tragedy (the first of many) struck: Ralph Dundas passed away on October 16th of 1921.

Seeking Asylums

Dundas’ passing saw his wife, Josephine, deprived of her only emotional support and in short order she was declared legally incompetent. On May 1st of 1922, she was committed to the West Hill Sanitarium in Riverdale, Bronx County, NY where she spent the rest of her days. As for the Dundas’ 18-year-old daughter Muriel, she was honeymooning in Europe at the time of her father’s demise.

Poor Muriel might have inherited her mother’s mental issues as she, in turn, was committed to an asylum in Great Britain. That left Muriel’s husband who – this is starting to sound like a broken record – returned to the United States only to be committed to a mental institution. Perhaps Dundas could have saved everyone a lot of bother by building his Scottish fantasy as an actual insane asylum instead of a palatial home. Just sayin’.

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Catskill Keep Abandoned Cursed Castle In Upstate Ny

A proud chapter in the story of American industry came to a close when an abandoned paper mill in Richmond, VA was re-purposed into loft-style apartments.

Richmond, a city of approximately a quarter-million, is the state capitol of Virginia and the former capitol of the Confederate States of America. Founded in 1737, Richmond has long been a center of economic activity though some of its more traditional industrial pursuits – railroads and tobacco processing, for example – have largely given way to post-industrial profit hubs in the legal, financial and governmental sectors.

Pulp Friction

In 1880, the world’s first cigarette-rolling machine was invented roughly 200 miles west, in Roanoke. One might surmise that this abandoned paper mill, photographed by Joel Handwerk of Lithium Photo, produced rolling paper for the local tobacco firms. Smoke ’em if you got ’em!

That’s just an educated guess, mind you. As the photographer paid a visit to the site long after the mill’s machinery had been removed, actual day-to-day functions at the factory are no longer obvious.

Hard Cover Story

Still, it’s hard to disguise a paper mill. “The overall structures have a layout that is consistent with the manufacturing purpose,” confirms Handwerk, who fortuitously chose to carry out his mission of urbex photo-documentation on a bright, sunny day.

“The upper floors are wide open and feature yellow safety pillars and painted-over window panes,” the photographer adds. Enough natural light does manage to get through, however, while the blacked-out windows provide contrasting shadows and dark backgrounds. Handwerk’s images explode off the monitor screen in a dramatically detailed succession of interior scenic vistas.

The Paper Choice

“The basement level provides access to an area that feels somewhat like catacombs,” mused Handwerk, who presumably escaped the aged structure well before twilight fell  and the graveyard shift punched in. A wise move, to be sure – abandoned buildings hide a host of dangers at any hour of the day or night, and it’s not as if anyone’s overseeing what you step onto, into, or off of.

Other hazards urbex hobbyists need to be cognizant of include slick oily floors, rotted wood staircases, loose or missing railings, exposed nails, toxic black mold, unremediated asbestos, and corrosive spilled and/or leaking chemicals just to name a few. Some of those hazards were less obtrusive when Handwerk conducted his photo shoot as the former factory had already been extensively gutted.

Bound and Determined

Kudos to Handwerk for not revealing the building’s name and exact location in Richmond. Sure, graffiti has its place as both an art form and as a valid means of cultural expression but time and time again, graffiti is accompanied by pointless vandalism and destructive metal salvaging. The damage can’t always be attributed to the graffiti artists directly but all too often it occurs in conjunction with their activities.

“This structure is currently being renovated into apartments,” according to Handwerk, quoted from the time he took and posted these images. Residential loft-style apartments now occupy the renovated remains of this former paper mill.

Book Marked

One clue to the former mill’s identity can be found at the Facebook account of The Paper Company Apartments, located on Hull St in Richmond’s Old Town Manchester district. Check out the brickwork in Handwerk’s photo above, and the wall depicted on the front page of Property Results LLC‘s website for The Paper Company Apartments below.

Note the presence of occasional pale blue and orange-tinted bricks common to both images. Coincidence? Perhaps – or perhaps not. In any case, it’s good to see this rough old relic of industrial Richmond make a successful leap from economic engine to residential retreat, hopefully inspiring further efforts at industrial rehabilitation. And that’s a wrap. (all images © 2017 Joel Handwerk)

The abandoned Brandermill Inn and Conference Center in Chesterfield, VA jumped the shark after a failed Ponzi scheme drained all of its operating funds.

Location, location, location… three good reasons to build a lakefront hotel, restaurant, outdoor pool and conference center in Brandermill, Virginia! Indeed, it seemed such a good idea at the time (circa 1984), just a few short years after the National Association of Home Builders had declared the master-planned community of Brandermill to be “The Best Planned Community in America.”

The Brandermill Inn and Conference Center is situated on an 11-acre property abutting the scenic Swift Creek Reservoir in pastoral Chesterfield County, just south of Richmond. The project was conceived by Jim Moyler, who co-owned the marina-front property with BICC Limited Partnership.

After Moyler bought the property and existing infrastructure outright in 1991, he proceeded to sell timeshare units at the Inn along with hosting a series of special events. Moyler was on top of the world with nowhere to go but… down.

By the early 2000’s, the Brandermill Inn and Conference Center was in desperate need of maintenance, repairs and updates. Those things cost money. To get it, Moyler decided to refinance the property to the tune of $3.5 million – $2.9 million to pay down previously incurred debt and $600,000 to be held in escrow for future renovations.

All well and good, except Wexwater LLC, from whom Moyler negotiated the loans, was a dubious venture between Stillwater Capital and WexTrust Capital. Unbeknownst to Moyler, WexTrust was running a Ponzi scheme which, when uncovered, led to the firm’s two principals serving 13- and 21-year federal prison sentences.

Like all good (and bad) Ponzi schemes, it’s all smooth sailing until an investor wants to withdraw funds: Madoff out front shoulda told you that. In 2006 when Moyler sought to access the $600,000 held in escrow, Wexwater effectively blocked him from doing so.

“We went ’round and ’round and ’round on that,” according to Moyler’s attorney, Jim McCall, “and because the money was so necessary for the Inn to make the improvements and to fund some of the timeshare activities, they didn’t have the money to keep going.”

In January of 2006, left with no other options, Moyler was forced to put the Inn’s operating company into Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. The case subsequently converted to Chapter 7 bankruptcy later that year. The Brandermill Inn and Conference Center shut down completely in mid-2006, though the marina continued operating independently.

In 2009 an SEC-appointed receiver successfully sold the assets to 5800 Harbour Lane LLC, a subsidiary of Washington, D.C.-based developer Holladay Corp., subject to the securing of a clean title through a foreclosure. That last little bit took almost FIVE YEARS. All the while, the Brandermill Inn and Conference Center (along with its associated infrastructure) sat abandoned, subject to the vagaries of vagrants, vandals and vermin.

When the foreclosure fiasco was finally settled in March of 2014, Holladay Corp. announced plans to demolish the Brandermill Inn and Conference Center and erect a senior assisted living facility on the site. Urbex explorer and photographer Joel Handwerk of Lithium Photo managed to visit the shockingly deteriorated, 60-room facility shortly before the announcement, thereby preserving its state of post-apocalyptic devastation for posterity..

“Compared to many of the buildings I have photographed, this one is surprisingly modern,” explained Handwerk. “The decorations are straight out of the 1990’s. The hallways have significant ceiling damage, with insulation crumbling down all around.” Nice to know even this darkened cloud has its silver lining, if one is willing to look for it.

“The pool contains several years’ worth of grime and rainwater,” adds Handwerk. “Some of the rooms are surprisingly complete, while others have smashed televisions and significant mold accumulation on the walls.” So, pretty much like far too many existing senior assisted living facilities. Bring your own Bubba Ho-Tep.