Fewsmith Memorial/ Pilgrim Baptist Church

The late 1800s saw the growth of all types of religion in the city. By far, one of the most prominent denominations was the Presbyterian Church. They established their first worship space in the city in the 1660's. Two centuries later the group was building santuaries all over Newark. One example was the Fewsmith Memorial Presbyterian Church. At first the group worshipped inside a small Carpenter Gothic structure that was built along Jay Street in 1886. By 1893 the congregation had grown so much that they decided to build a large beautiful brick sanctuary along Hudson Street. 

The new sanctuary was a beautiful Gothic building, complete with a large bell tower. Despite the beautiful, relatively new building,  Fewsmith merged with the Roseville Presbyterian Church in 1924. Over 150 former Fewsmith members started attending mass at Roseville, which was about 10 blocks west of their original home. A new Fewsmith Memorial Church was also established in neighboring Belleville the same year. Around the same time, a small group that had split off from Bethany Baptist began working out plans for a new congregation. The group would go on to become Pilgrim Baptist Church. After several months of meeting in different members houses, they purchased the Fewsmith building from the Newark Presbytery and moved in on December 14th. 

A few decades passed, and with it came several new leaders. In 1939 Reverend Charles C. Withers resigned, and Elder Wilson of the Bethlehem Baptist church was called in to lead while they determined who would take charge next. Instead, Bethlehem was actually absorbed by the Pilgrim congregation to worship in their Hudson Street building. To memorialize this, a new cornerstone was installed at the base of the bell tower.

Pilgrim was a critical part of the city and region as a whole, which is reflected in some of the hosuing initiatives undertaken by the church. Under the stewardship of Reverend Arthur Washington Jones in 1979 Pilgrim Baptist Village was constructed to help provide low and moderate income housing to the city. The apartments were built on Bergen Ave at 18th St. on land that was once held dozens of abandoned residences. They also helped get single family housing built all throughout the City of Orange. 

The main sanctuary underwent a large renovation project in 1992. Included in the project were new pews, air conditioning and the iconic blue stained glass windows in the main sanctuary. The work was done under the stewardship of Reverend Clarence E. Thomas. 

Pilgrim Baptist continued to do good work in the community decades. Unfortunately over time, as is often the case, the congregation began to dwindle. As the group got smaller and smaller, the bills got bigger. The large brick and wooden structures needed extensive maintenance and repair work. Then in March of 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic hit. 

Churches all over the country were forced to close their doors to worship, while the needs of their respective communities skyrocketed. Pilgrim Baptist was no exception. By the time the pandemic was officially declared over, the congregation had essentially disappeared. They hadn't used their Facebook account in years, but reviews and photos indicate that services were still being held in 2020. The following year they updated the copywrite on their website, but that seems to be the last sign of life I can find.

The buildings were listed for sale in December of 2022, ninety eight years after Pilgrim Baptist moved in. It was on the market for less than a year, before selling for nearly one million dollars. Unfortunately the new owners had no intention of keeping the old church buildings around. Demolition began in November of 2023, just a month after the new owners closed on the property. 

I'm guessing they wanted to act swiftly, to ensure nobody tried to get the old buildings listed on the city or national registers of historic places. Work started with the original 1886 chapel on Jay Street. The large equipment made short work of the old rotted timbers. They paused briefly, to ensure they could get everything of value out of the main sanctuary. However, they made sure to put a gigantic hole in the back wall to ensure it would be too late for any last minute preservation attempts. 

Salvaging the interior elements took about a week, after which demolition commenced in full stride. By the end of 2023, the lot was clear.

Pilgrim joins the long list of city churches that have been unceremoniously demolished in the last few decades. I'm not sure which historic building will be targeted next, but I know this won't be the last. 

Drone photo courtesy of my brother.

Howard M. Down Generating Station

 

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive

Vineland is one of those New Jersey cities that most folks in my native Essex County seem to know very little about. Whenever I'd bring it up, people would shrug their shoulders and say "I really don't know, it's just a weird little place in the pines". The city actually has a fascinating history though. It was founded by a man named Charles Landis who intended it to be a "temperance town". That meant no alcohol was to be sold or consumed within the district. It was this prohibition that led Dr. Thomas Welch to develop his famous fruit juice from the city's namesake grapes. The term "moron" was coined by a doctor working at the Vineland Developmental Center, which still remains a major employer within the city. In addition, Vineland holds the only municipal coal generating station ever constructed in New Jersey. Or, at least it used to. 

Source: TFPNJ Historic Document Archive

The original generating station on the property dated back to 1900. For context, this was only a couple decades after we started burning coal for electricity in the United States. Despite being somewhat revolutionary it was a small facility with equipment that was extremely inefficient by today's standards. The two belt driven stationary engines only generated a combined 270kw.  It wasn't long before the plant needed to be upgraded. A new boiler and a 750kw  generator were installed in 1917. Another 1000kw generator was added just a few years later in the early 1920s. Around this same time the Atlantic City Electric Co began to see the borough's electrical generating capacity as a threat to their business. After failing to muscle the utility out of providing service beyond their border, they offered $1.5 million for the existing plant. The borough was poised to follow through, which sparked outrage among the citizens. They voted down the sale, opting to keep the plant under local control. After the strong show of support the utility felt the need to upgrade the plant again. In 1929 a 3,000kw turbine was installed, the plant's most efficient generator yet. 

Source: TFPNJ Historic Document Archive

The plant was completely reconstructed in 1936 with funding from the Federal Emergency Administration of Public Works. The original 1900s building was unfortunately demolished to accomidate the construction. This rebuild added another 4,000kw to the plants capacity. However, with more generating capacity came more boiling hot waste water that needed to be dealt with. This is one of the reasons generating stations are usually built alongside bodies of water that can be discharged into. Since no such waterway existed in Vineland, a small cooling pool was constructed across the railroad tracks from the main plant. The water was pumped over to the pond where it was dispersed into the air to cool. 

Source: TFPNJ Historic Document Archive

A boiler capable of producing 72,000 pounds of steam per hour was constructed in 1939. Three years later a second 4000kw generator came online. It took five more years for the plant to see another expansion. The addition brought a new 105,000lb/hr boiler, followed by a 5000kw generator another few years after that. The new boiler could burn either coal or oil, so an oil tank was added on the other side of the train tracks. Several homes between Pear and Peach streets were demolished to make room for the tank. The new unit was also the first to utilize a crossflow cooling tower, which was installed next to the cooling pool. The demand for power in the region continued to increase throughout the 1950s. A man named Howard Down, who was the General Manager of the plant at the time, recognized the utility could benefit from hiring a consulting firm to plan out future construction. Each sucessive expansion was done thoughfully and efficiently thanks to this decision. Another project began in 1952, the largest to date since the remodel two decades prior. A 7,500kw generator was hooked up to the newest boiler which was capable of pushing another hundred thousand pounds of steam per hour through the turbines. A bunch of new switch gear, pumps, and a forced down draft fan were also added to the turbine hall. A 1955 expansion saw the addition of yet another generator. This one was powered by a 130,000lb/hr boiler system and was capable of generating 10,000kw. A new, completely modern control room was constructed above the hall, connecting all the complex machinery together. In 1960 a new unit was added to the eastern flank of the building, capable of generating 16,500kw. Another set of crossflow towers were constructed along W. Pear. With the new unit up and running the facility was able to generate 50,000kw. The plant was now one of the largest municipal generating stations on the east coast. And construction wasn't even complete yet. 

Source: TFPNJ Historic Document Archive

Each time a new unit was constructed it was attached to the eastmost section of the plant. That meant by the time the Unit 10 was added to the plant in the late 1960s they were completely out of space. The company continued to have to purchase and demolish neighboring homes to accomidate their expansion. The cooling equipment for the 1960's unit was constructed on land along Plum Street. Down was now capable of producing just shy of 82,000mw.

Source: TFPNJ Historic Document Archive

As time pressed on, greater emphasis was placed on finding cleaner sources of energy than coal and kerosene. The relatively small output of the Down plant and its reliance on coal put it right in the crosshairs. The city couldn't justify retrofitting their old boilers or adding the expensive scrubber equipment that would allow them to continue to burn the fuel the plant was designed for. By 2010 the coal units were decommissioned, leaving only the more modern oil units online.

The following year a 64mw natural gas fired simple cycle generator was installed where the old cooling pool used to be in 2011. The new unit was dubbed Howard Down 11. The crossflow towers for the 1950s units were removed as well to clear up some space. 

Unit 11 was way more efficient and inexpensive to maintain than the old hulking powerhouse across the tracks. In addition, the company built another simple cycle unit in Clayville, bringing another 64mw of power to the grid. Unit 10 inside the old plant was kept around to be switched on during times of peak demand, but those times became more rare as the regional grid stabilized. By 2021 the utility had purchased an adjascent building and began moving all of the offices and workshops over. It was announced the following year that the rest of the old equipment would be decommissioned and the plant would be demolished.

I pulled up outside Howard Down on a warm August morning shortly after the demolition plans were announced. The iconic "Vineland Municipal Electric Plant" sign was dark, but the building was still lit up and humming. I had been keeping an eye on the plant for almost a decade, waiting for it to finally close. I first saw the beautiful brick behemoth while in town to document the former Newcomb Hospital. By then the building was hardly ever being used to generate power, but I remember watching workers going in and out of the front doors when I drove around it in the years after. Ten years after the first time I ever saw it and she still looked exactly the same. 

I was hoping there would be some clue that the workers weren't going inside the building anymore since the demolition was already announced. That wasn't the case. I carefully made my way around the building, eventually making my way to the railroad tracks that bisected the old plant from its modern replacement. It wasn't too long before I was climbing up a ladder that would eventually bring me inside. 

Quietly, I worked my way through the maze of boilers from different eras. I wasn't sure what I was going to find when I got to the generator hall. So often when these stations get updated the old generators are ripped out or torn apart for pieces and scrap. Thankfully that wasn't the case here.

Walking down the hall was like walking through history. Generators of different sizes and from progressively different eras lined the room from one end to the next, eight in total.

I did the best I could to document everything, but I only had my phone on me. I intended to return and shoot everything on my real camera, but time got away from me. While doing research for this post I opened up the street view and was horrified to see that demolition was already in full swing. I was sure by the time abatement started all the local power plant goons would be posting the place all over social media. I never saw another photo though. Hopefully someone did a better job documenting the building as it was such an amazing and rare relic of power generation. 

Only time will tell what will replace the old generating station now that the building is gone. I'm hoping a memorial display is installed somewhere for folks to see. The old neon sign that once graced the roof is set to be restored and reinstalled next to Howard Down 11. At least that will serve as a small reminder of the plant that powered the town for over a century. 

Samuel Hird & Co./ Black Prince Distillery

The Athenia section of Clifton has long been known as one of the industrial hearts of the city. There was once a large steel mill right at the fork of the DL&W's old Boonton Branch. Motorists would better know this as the area where Route 46, Route 19 and the Garden State Parkway all converge today. On the other side of the tracks stood a small textile mill that dates back to the 1920s. 

The main building of the Samuel Hird Company's Clifton location was built in 1925. It was a large T shaped structure dwarfed by a tall brick chimney. 

Hird had originally set up shop in Garfield, but moved his wool manufacturing operation across the river. Early stories from residents tell of sheep that used to graze the land at the corner of Clifton Ave and Paulison. 

A warehouse was added behind the main factory just three years later, and a small strech of rail siding was laid down to accomidate deliveries and shipments for the company.

The only major change to the buildings was that a skybridge was built between the factory and warehouse in 1949 to make it easier to move goods around. 

The Black Prince Distillery moved into the old mill in 1982. They stayed put until 2019, when operations moved down to Tennessee. They stripped all of their tanks and equipment out, leaving the structures completely barren.  Clifton declared the parcel an area in need of redevelopment declared shortly afterwords, and the distillery started working with a group known as Clifton Station Redevelopment LLC. 

The buildings were only vacant a short time before being absolutely thrashed by local kids. This was, of course, due to the property being directly adjascent to the infamous "Gates of Hell". The owners made no effort to ever secure the property or buildings, in a move known as "demolition by neglect". This action ensured the property would become a problem for the city, which would help with redevelopment plans down the line. 

Funny enough, it was around the same time that my girlfriend and I moved to DeMott Avenue. We passed the distillery multiple times every day, watching it slowly disintegrate.  Naturally we spent a lot of time inside the property as well. There ended up being some decent grafitti inside, including one amazing Mexican flag mural. 

It was neat seeing regulars from different groups during our many trips. At one point some local skate rats set up ramps inside the warehouse and had it locked down so they and their friends could enjoy the place without having to worry about anyone showing up to spoil the fun.

Like all good things, the fun had to come to an end eventually. Demolition began on the complex in the fall of 2021. It took several months to level the nearly 100 year old mill, but by the following February the entire property was flat.

At the time this article is being written, the Clifton Station development is well underway. I'm not sure I'll ever get accustomed to coming out from underneath the rail bridge and not seeing the Hird Mill. Even though the structures are gone the memories will surely live on with all of those who found a home in the old vacant buildings while they lasted.

Union Theater

 

Source

The mid to late 1920's in America is generally remembered fondly as time of prosperity and grandeur. The rich were building garish mega mansions while companies reached towards the sky with sleek new skyscrapers. When I think of buildings from this time, I almost always think about the theaters. One such venue from this time is the Union Theater.

While the current interior may lead one to believe otherwise, the building was originally built in 1926. It originally opened as a large single screen theater with just over 1300 seats. Most theaters of this era have beautiful front entrances adorned with Terra Cotta ornamentation or decorative brickwork. For whatever reason the Union seems to have been built with a bland, undecorated front facade. 

Warner Brothers took over the theater from the original owners in 1941. They made a number of upgrades to the building, each time trying to make it more profitable. Unfortunately this resulted in much of the incredible decorative plasterwork being obscured by drop ceilings and other ugly decor. 

1978 the RKO Stanley Warner company put out an ad declaring that they had "twinned" the auditorium. This means they had split the large auditorium into two seperate rooms, which would each be playing a different movie at the same time. It was a common practice theater owners used to try and compete with the growing popularity of "multiplex" cinemas, or movie theaters with several different screens in one building. 

RKO Stanley Warner did everything they could to get the Union Theater to maintain a steady profit, each time coming up short. The now two screen theater was sold to Cineplex Odeon company, who at the time was one of the largest cinema operators in the world. They continued to show movies at the Union for two decades until a restructuring of the company resulted in the sale of many assets. 

By the spring of 1998 the building was once again sold, this time to a pair of men named Spiros and Stefan Papas; a father-son team. The two already owned and operated several nearby theaters, and saw the new project as an opportunity. Unfortunately instead of ripping down the wall and rejoining the two rooms, they went the other direction. They turned the venue into a 7 screen monster. Three new auditoriums were packed in each of the existing two rooms, with an extra screen tucked in the backstage area. The new auditoriums each had recliner seats with plenty of leg room. 

The new renovations seemed to go over pretty well. For over a decade things ran relatively smoothly, but it was eventually closed in 2014. At the time the residents of Union were largely upset at the loss. The cinema was an integral part of the township, and residents wanted a new owner to take over and resume operations. Empire Cinemas moved in the following year.

It seems that Empire came in with the intention of squeezing every penny out of the place that they could while doing little maintenence and no upgrades. Customers quickly began giving the theater horrible reviews, complaining about everything from the concessions to the seats to the screens themselves. Folks even reported rain coming into one of the auditoriums during heavy rains. For years conditions in the theater continued to degrade, until finally the township had had enough. In March of 2020 the township of Union shut down the building for various health and safety standards. They had been soliciting improvements to the building for years, which they claimed to be an eyesore right in the heart of downtown. Empire never responded to any of the inquiries. While many theaters shut down for good in 2020 the Union was among the first of them, finally ceasing operations on March 3rd. 

An article came out the following year that the township was planning to incorporate the land the theater sits on into their redevelopment plans. Unfortunately, their plans didn't include the theater. By this time most people had forgotten how beautiful the building originally was. Most of the decorative plaster still existed above the ceilings but the building was so soggy and built over many people probably had no idea. I made a few visits to the building as remediation began. I was hoping part of the process would include ripping down the false walls, bringing it back to its single screen grandeur. Unfortunately that never happened. It was so badly butchered up that I had to literally climb up into the false ceiling to be able to document the remaining details. I never ended up taking my camera out of my bag.

The story wraps up in 2023, when the building was finally demolished. It's so sad to see another North Jersey town lose its theater. While the building wasn't the most beautiful, the right person with enough money and vision could have done something great with it. Unfortunately we will never know for sure. 

The Oxford/ Van Nest Gap Tunnel

The Oxford Tunnel was a key part of the Warren Railroad, which allowed the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western railroad to run all the way up to Hampden, NJ via the Central NJ railroad. To this day I'm not sure why they decided this would be a worthwhile endeavor, considering the abundant mountains and valleys of Warren County. However, the history of the American Railroad network has proved to be full of arrogance and determination. The Warren Railroad would be no exception. James Archibald and McAllister & Wiestling were the engineers tasked with figuring out just where this new branch of John Blair's Railroad was to go. 

Source

As the planned line made its way to Oxford in 1853 the engineers discovered the most efficient path would involve blasting a tunnel through Oxford Mountain to reach the Van Nest Gap. A lack of resources and time required that a temporary track be installed to get things rolling while they worked on blasting out the tube.  While the nearby Manunka Chunk Tunnels along the same line were finished in two years, the Oxford tube took nearly nine. Trains finally started using the passage in the autumn of 1862.

As the line aged towards the new century, traincars were getting larger and larger. This presented a problem for the tunnel; the existing tracks didnt allow enough clearance for the bigger cars. Instead of spending any more time and money to expand the tunnel, the company chose to replace the double track with a gauntlet track instead. This allowed at least a single train to make it through the tunnel. The portals were also reinforced with concrete at the same time.

The gauntlet was only a temporary solution. Shortly after it was installed the DL&W Railroad began work on the Lackawanna Cutoff. The new line would allow trains to bypass the backup that was caused by the reduction in traffic at Oxford and shaved eleven miles off the journey.

The former right of way through Warren County began to be referred to as the Lackawanna "Old Road". It was mainly used for freight traffic, occasionally seeing use as a backup when the Lackawanna was delayed or impassable. Trains stopped using the Oxford Tunnel sometime in the 1970's or 1980's. The old road changed hands and saw a few partial revivals which makes nailing down an exact date tricky. I'm sure an area railfan will have an answer in the comments before long. Without regular maintenance the ancient drainage systems that once kept the tunnel manageably damp had become blocked, leading to flooding throughout the passage. By 1984 the marble dedication plaque was precariously exposed and in danger of falling. A team of men consisting of local enthusiasts volunteered to retrieve it, and after doing so it was re-installed at the historic Shippen Manor. 

Source

The first major collapse inside the tunnel is reported to have happened in 2007. That's according to premier New Jersey hiker and historian Mike Helbing. Mike grew up in the area, and is as credible a source as any. The man has hiked and bushwacked his way through more disused former rail bed than anyone I know. A second collapse in 2018 left the tunnel in precarious shape. Route 31 goes directly over the west portal, meaning any further deterioration posed a serious risk to anyone traveling over it. Helbing tried to raise the alarms, but local officials seemingly quashed his concerns. A shoddy fence was installed on the east portal in an attempt to keep people out, but the state owned west portal remained unobstructed for months until they also installed an equally shoddy fence. 

There have been no updates on the status of the tunnel in the last few years. Considering Oxford Mountain is pockmarked with collapsed and flooded abandoned mineshafts, it stands to reason the township and DOT will continue to ignore the problem until they can't anymore. I can only hope nobody is traveling on the roadway above when the next collapse occurs.