St. Francis Medical Center

Ive always found the early history of the US healthcare industry fascinating. While doctors operated private practices and made house calls, the first purpose built hospitals in New Jersey were opened by the Catholics. Though often starting small, they would eventually grew into sprawling building campuses, seeing citizens of their home cities into and out of this world. One of the largest campuses of this type in the state was located right in our capital. 

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive 

The Sisters of St Francis of Philadelphia established the first hospital in Trenton in 1874.  The original building was a small two story converted schoolhouse. Shortly afterwards a large three story brick building was built on the same plot.

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One of the most significant early additions was a massive turn of the century Gothic Revival chapel designed by noted Philadelphia church architect Edwin Forrest Durang. 

Source: TFPNJ Postcard archive

Durang was a Philadelphia architect known for his catholic churches. The building was added to the south side of the three story dormitory in 1894.

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive 

In the early 1950's a large new wing was built at the corner of Bert and Hamilton Avenues. 

In 1957 a brand new school of nursing was built at the corner of Bert & St. Francis Avenues. 

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The hospital underwent a massive reconstruction effort in 1963. Almost all of the historic brick buildings were demolished. A new chapel and medical tower were built on the cleared land. 

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive

"Nun performing surgery" United Press Internatkonal Photo
TFPNJ Historic Photo Archive

The beautiful old nurses dorm was demolished in the early 1980s and replaced with a parking garage. A new service entrance was added along Chambers Street.

In 2006 a new entrance was added along Chambers Street. A breezeway was also built connecting the parking garage to the main hospital building. 

Despite the constant upgrades, St. Francis hospital announced they were closing down in 2022. The state insisted that some services remain on site past the closure, so an agreement was made with Capital Health to lease space and maintain basic care. Any serious issues would be transported to the main hospital on Brunswick Ave. 

Unfortunately the plan was short lived, as structural issues forced Capital Health out on June 25th, 2025. A fence was immediately put up around the perimeter of the campus, with signs redirecting those in need to the Brunswick Ave site. 

I had been trying to get inside the vacant sections of the hospital since it first closed with no success. Now that the building was fully empty and security was posted up outside I felt more comfortable working my way in. 

The security team was one of the most well equipped I have encountered so far. Not only were there two gaurds, so both sides of the hospital had eyes, but they also did foot patrols every hour to check for break ins. They employed a Deggi system, which is a security check in tool that increases vigilance. At each corner of the property were 24/7 remote monitored camera towers.

Articles were being published discussing the impending demolition of the hospital in local papers. Another article from September specifically talked about how crews were thoroughly boarding up the hospital to deter trespassers and scrappers. That article specifically mentions Mercer Hospital, another huge abandoned medical center across the city that had become an absolutely lawless headache for city leaders. I wasn't going to be put off though. I love a challenge.

During one of my rounds I noticed a second story window was sitting open. It was out of reach, so I started looking around for a pallet or garbage can I could use. It still would have been a climb, but I could have managed. Then I noticed something out of the corner of my eye; a ladder leaning against the parking garage. From where I was planning on hopping the fence I wouldn't even have to break my stride to grab the ladder. The window was in a recess, so the cameras wouldnt actually be able to see me climbing in..... was this actually about to work out? 

The spot where I hopped the fence was hidden from the street by a van. A tree blocked the cameras. I bent down and blocked my body with the ladder as I dashed to the window. These camera towers had speakers on them to alert trespassers that they've been recorded and security is notified. When I didn't get called out I assumed I was probably okay. The ladder was the perfect height, so I was inside in seconds. I couldn't leave the ladder leaned up against the window though, that would alert security while they did their rounds. Knowing I could dangle and drop to the soft grass below, I decided to push the ladder down. It nested into the tall grass so well that it was instantly camouflaged the second it touched down.

I didn't need a flashlight inside the buildings since the power was still on. That meant the interior cameras could also be working, I just had to roll the dice on that. The bigger issue was that I couldn't see outside as well as they could see me. There were also a number of missing windows on the backside of the auditorium where one of the gaurds sat. I had to crouch down to get from room to room.

Unfortunately the nursing school didnt connect to the main hospital building, so I had to go back outside to get to move on. The chapel was an obvious point of interest so thats where I headed.

The original 1890s chapel was demolished in 1963 and replaced by a contemporary design. The space was never utilized by Capital Health when they moved in, so it was just starting to decay a bit. 

Almost all of the medical equipment was long gone despite the space being very clean inside. The emergency room had already been gutted inside so there was nothing to see there. 

After finding the surgical rooms had also been stripped I spent most of the rest of my time in the basement looking for a morgue, which I never did find.

Despite expecting so much more inside I was glad to have had a chance to see it for myself. Shortly afterwards the parking garage was demolished, fully exposing my old way inside to the cameras.

 

The nursing school was the next to come down, with the demolition progressing northwards. It wasn't long before crews were tearing into the main hospital buildings. 

Its pretty wild to see the differences between what's happened with the St. Francis site compared to Mercer Hospital. While I'm sad I didn't have more time with St. Francis I'm also glad it never became a blighted ball and chain to the neighborhood. 

Thanks for learning with me. 

The Newark Presbyterian/United Hospital

The story of the old hospital in Newark's Central Ward goes back to 1910. At the time of its creation, the Newark Presbetyrian Hospital was operating out of an old mansion. By the end of the next decade, the hospital owned several more houses down S. 9th Street. As the city continued to grow, however, the hospital needed more space. in 1929, a large new six story building was constructed. Sitting on a nearly 8 acre parcel of land. The hospital towered over the central ward.

In 1958, the United Hospital Network formed. It consisted of the Presbyterian Hospital, the nearby "Babies Hospital", the Newark Ear & Eye Hospital, and the Newark Home for Crippled Children. Over the years, the Presbyterian Hospital would provide care for the citizens of the central ward. However, the hospital faced severe turmoil during the Newark riots of 1967. An article in the New York Times reported that the hospital itself came under sniper fire, and several of the surrounding homes were torched. While responding to an alarm in the vicinity of the hospital, Captain Michael Moran was shot off of the ladder he was on. This was truly the worst time in the history of the city. While Newark rebuilt, so did the hospital. The "North Tower" Was constructed increasing capacity to 449 beds.

The downfall of the hospital began just a few decades later in. 1989. The President of the United Hospital network was accused of stealing millions of dollars from the hospital, and subsequently resigned. Two trustees struggled against each other to fill  the position, which grew into a series of legal battles leaving the hospital scrambling for funding. By 1991, the former President was convicted of several felonies. The same year, the replacement president was fired for not moving quicky enough to correct the damage done by the previous administration. Four years later, the United Hospital Network entered a partnership with the Barnabas Health Network, and the Networls name changed to "United Healthcare System". Unfortunealty this only lasted a brief time, and the hospital was shuttered to years later. Nothing that the administration tried could fix what had been done. Not only did the neighborhood lose across to local medical services, the closing also affected hundreds of employees, who all lost their jobs. This was a contributing factor to the the further decline of the neighborhood.

After the closure of the hospital, the property was purchased by "New United" for $725,000.
Headed by Clyde Pemberton, the group had plans to renovate it, but keep it open as a medical campus. In 1999 Essex County purchased the "North Tower" for $6.5 million (Nearly $5.75 million more than Pemberton bought the entire property for), with the intention of moving operations from the Overbrook Psychiatric Hospital there. Despite supporting the plan while in office as a freeholder, Joe Divencenzo changed the county's plan to move Overbrook operations to United site in 2002. The county then planned to move some of their offices into the building, but Mr. Pemberton included a clause in the purchase that the building could only be used for medical purposes. He felt strongly that the area needed a hospital, not more offices. Essex County then intentionally neglected their portion of the building in order to ensure they would be able to take the rest of the property through a condemnation clause.

Then, in 2010, the deed was seized by the county without any warning given to the owners of the property. Plans were announced that the building was going to be razed entirely. After hearing Mr. Pemberton's attorney explain the situation, the court ordered Essex County to do $200,000 worth of repair work to their portion of the deteriorated hospital. Joe D. refused, saying "Why should I put money in a building that is going to be demolished". Two years later, the New Jersey Superior Court ruled that the county misused their authority to blindside the owner and seize the property. Despite this, the county retained ownership of  the hospital. At this point, the Essex County was using inmates from a nearby CEC detention facility to clean up the neglected grounds. One day in 2014, a security gaurd at the United site was assaulted by a man stealing scrap metal. This was the final straw, and official plans were announced that the hospital was to be raised to make way for a new VoTech building. Remediation work began at the end of Spring, 2015. On May 6th, one of the managers was knocked down an elevator shaft after cutting the wrong cord on the machine when preparing the structure for demolition. By November of that year, the entire property was completely empty.

The United Hospital story is laced with corruption and political bullying, so its not a suprise Mr. Divencenzo wanted the buildings gone. These buildings are just more examples of Essex County's blatant and systematic disregard for the historic properties they have been entrusted with. Soon, Essex County will stop obbliterating their history. But that will only be because there is none left to save.

The Newcomb Hospital

The story of the Newcomb hospital goes back to the early 1920's. Leverett Newcomb, a prominent attorney from the city, donated six and a half acres of land and $225,000 to erect a new hospital.

Old postcared of the Newcomb Hospital

He wanted his hospital to be the cutting edge of modern medicine. Constructed in 1924 with its own power station and x ray machine, the new hospital was certainly living up to expectations. Mr. Newcomb only wanted two things in return for his generous donation. He wanted the hospital to be named for him, unlike all the other regional hospitals named by the towns they were constructed in. His second request was that he be buried on the hospital's property.

Mr. Newcomb died on September 16th, 1926, and as per his request he was buried underneath a beech tree in the parking lot of the hospital. Though the hospital would go on to change significantly over the years, he would remain buried in this same spot.

In the summer of 1959, a new wing was added to the right of the small three story original building. This was only the beginning of the hospitals expansion however.

By 1967, a five story addition was built onto the addition from the decade prior. The building was also expanded on the first floor all the way back to the power plant behind the original structure. The new expansion would take months to complete.

Over the years the Newcomb hospital maintained the purpose with which it was built, becoming one f the largest healthcare providers for all of Cumberland County. At its peak, the hospital had 235 beds spread out through 300,000 square feet of building space. The hospital had come a long way from when it was just a small three story building.

Unfortuneately over the years, the original hospital building was heavily updated. The only room to survive over those 80 years of countless renovations was the rotunda. A large round room with a compass rose style terrazzo floor and decorative marble pillars all the way around the perimeter.

Despite all of the growth over the years, the hospital began to lose many of their patients to the other, more modern facilities in other parts of Vineland. It was sold to the South Jersey Healthcare Group, who went on to close the facility in 2004.

Over the next four years, the hospital fell into disrepair. In 2008, the hospital was sold to the Danza group. The group received a six million dollar urban enterprise zone loan in order to jump start development on the blighted property.

The hospital appeared to have caught a break in 2012, when the UMDNJ had an interest in taking over the structure and operating it as a teaching hospital. However, Governor Christie's budget cuts stripped out the university and left it unable to expand as it planned. The Danza group resorted to trying to track down other buyers, but was left sitting on the property for several more years.

Finally in 2015, The Danza Affiliate organization for the hospital announced plans to chop up the property and build mostly assisted living units on the site of the hospital. However, the proposal also called for 11,000 square feet of existing Newcomb hospital building space to be renovated and reincorporated back into the new plans for the property. Included in these plans are at least a portion of the original facade, which is a relief for preservationists after a huge wave of demolition in 2015 saw the demise of seven different disused hospitals across the state.

In December of 2015, a news article ran about the hospital, stating that demolition was scheduled to begin in February of the following year. Developers said that the facility was too heavily vandalized and decayed to save, which was not far from the truth. Over a decade of neglect left the developers with no other realistic option. With only one room original to the construction of the building, it wasn't very hard for me to find myself agreeing. While the hospital served a noble purpose, it now only stands a a testament to the failure of both the he healthcare and historic preservation systems in place of this country. Nobody wants a constant reminder of their failures shoved into their face every day.

Irvington General Hospital

Situated on a small hill along Chancellor avenue in Irvington, the Irvington General hospital was first built on the former Glorieux farm in March of 1924. At the time it was just one small three story Tudor building.

Siegel, Alan A. Irvington. Dover, NH: Arcadia Pub., 1997. Print.

Over the years the small community hospital saw a decent amount of growth, as the small township of Irvington became more and more populated. In the 1950's the Garden State Parkway project began right at the edge of the hospital property.

Before long, dormitories for the staff were built on the southernmost portion of the property. As Irvington and Newark grew, so did the hospital building. Between 1966 and 1969, a large L shaped addition was built to the back and left side of the original structure. This new addition was built right up to the dormitory building, and in 1969 the dorm was demolished. The building would once again be added to in 1987, when a new emergency room was built on the side of the property that runs along Krotik Place.

The hospital was owned by Irvington until 1994, when it was bought out by the nearby Beth Israel hospital in Newark. In 1996, the hospital became one of eight acute care hospitals in the Barnabas Health Network, which was the largest healthcare provider in the state at the time.

Despite it's role in the Barnabas health network, the hospital saw a severe decline in admissions. In 2004, a section of the building was renovated and became a "community health center". Essentially it was a place for underprivileged and uninsured people to get cheap, quality hospital care. A $400,000 grant from the state helped fund the new program. The hospital was mainly open as a psychiatric hospital at the time it was closed by St. Barnabas in 2006.

Many Irvington residents, including the local head of the NAACP at the time Kathleen Witcher, sincerely opposed the closure of the hospital. She felt that the only way the site would be of any use to the residents of the township would be as a hospital. She also felt that initial  plans weren't adequately discussed with the residents of the township, nor was the  initial offer of $3 million enough for the property.

The town of Irvington tried to keep the hospital open after the property was given back to them when it was closed by St. Barnabas, but they didn't have anywhere near the budget to make that happen. It wasn't long before the six acre site was overgrown and falling into serious disrepair. Several offers were proposed to develop the site over the years, but none of them were ever accepted by the town. The proximity of the parkway meant that any development had to be the right one. During this time, the small 160 bed hospital fell into serious disrepair. Scrappers had made their way in and took everything of value. Taggers made their way around the property, leaving colorful scars all over the outside of the building. Thankfully, only a few of them actually made it inside.

Finally in 2013, a development group came forward with a plan to demolish the hospital and build several residential towers on the site.

The 200 million dollar plan was met with overwhelming support from the community. Many of the people interviewed by the local press were thrilled to finally see something come of the site, which had been derelict for nearly a decade. Despite a 30 year tax abatement program offered to the Hilltop development group for the project, it is expected to be the anchor of an Irvington renaissance. A groundbreaking ceremony for the Hilltop development was held on May 18th, 2015. The hospital was supposed to be demolished that same week, but it didn't happen right away. Instead, demolition started in December of 2015.

I was driving up the parkway one day, and noticed a huge gaping hole in the back of the building. The scrap metal was being ripped out of the building and the hazardous materials were abated. Shortly after seeing this I went by the building to get a better look. Sure enough, the building was slowly being picked away at.

Usually, you will hear me arguing against demolition of any historic structure. Especially one that served a community as Irvington General has. Many generations of the towns citizens were born there. Thousands and thousands of people pass by it everyday, hard to make the claim that it is not a landmark. As a matter of fact, I was actually a patient there myself as a child. I had a serious reaction to an unknown insect bite, and it was thought that the doctors here may have a wider range of experience with different bites that you wouldn't usually find in Livingston where I usually went. However, you will not hear me opposing this course of action for the Irvington General site. Heavy modernizing has left the old building with almost no real architectural significance. It would also cost an unrealistic amount to fix all the damage a decade of neglect has caused. But most of all, Irvington needs this. With so much blight and violence prevalent throughout the town, moving forward needs to mean moving away from much of it's scarred past. I sincerely hope to see the renaissance come through, so that a few of the towns other architectural treasures don't fall into the same sort of disrepair Irvington General has.