RCA Building No. 8

The Victor Talking Machine company, established in Camden in 1901, is perhaps one of the most iconic American companies of all time. They started out making phonographs and recording equipment before braching out into the new medium of radio technology. The company expanded into a large manufacturing and office complex in downtown Camden, right at the landing of the Ben Franklin Bridge. The crown jewel of the hulking Ballinger & Perot designed campus was the iconic tower adorned with D'ascenzio Studios stained glass windows depicting the company's trademark "His Masters Voice" logo. General Electric bought out VTMC in 1919 and incorporated it into their new corporation, RCA. Over the next decade they continued to expand the Camden campus, which is when the subject of this article came to be.

Source: Library of Congress 

Building 8 was constructed between 1924 and 1925. This made it one of the few buildings added after RCA had been incorporated. Despite the expansive growth operations at the massive manufacturing center began to dwindle over the next few decades, as was the case with a lot of domestic production. The beautiful D'ascenzo Company stained glass had been removed from the tower windows, and replaced with plywood before finally being replaced again with new, cheaper glass windows.  In the late 1980s the first large scale demolition project began on campus. The two buildings adjacent to No. 8, buildings 1 and 18 were taken down and replaced with surface parking.

By the time General Electric formally vacated the complex in 1992 a majority of the production buildings had been demolished. That included building No. 4, which was attached to building 8. What remained were several warehouses, the generating station, building no. 8, and the iconic "Nipper" Building. The buildings were absolutely ravaged by metal thieves and vandals over the next decade. They found their way to the stained glass windows, and destroyed them. Thankfully the original glass had been removed in the late 1960s and distributed to several universities and museums. The remaining buildings were demolished one by one, The complex became a symbol for the overall deterioration of the city, visible to everyone taking the Ben Franklin into Philadelphia. 

Finally in 2002, after more than a decade of abandonment, the Nipper building was purchased by Philadelphia Developer Carl Dranoff. Work moved quick on the structure which reopened as apartments the following year. Replacement Stained Glass windows were even installed in the tower. Unfortately things almost immediately started to get ugly between the city and Dranoff. Part of the developers plans were contingent on the city doing an environmental survey on building No. 8 and taking on the ensuing cleanup. Afterwards the developer would purchase the building from the city and renovate that into lofts too. However, the city expected an initial loan of 3 million dollars to have been paid off first. Dranofff saw things differently. 

After years of fighting between the city and the developer, The Nipper building was put on the market in 2014. A Colorado based company attempted to purchase the apartment building, but the city refused to transfer the 30 year tax abatement they had granted to Dranoff to the new buyers. Therefore they backed out of the sale. Dranoff then sued the city, claiming they sabatoged the sale on purpose. All this time building no. 8 continued to languish, casting a tall shadow over downtown Camden. 

The highly visible Building no. 8 had long been considered an eyesore, but that was made worse in 2020 when the building was struck by lightning. Large pieces of the facade fell down to the street below, causing the city to erect a fence around the perimeter of the high rise. The following year a superior court judge ruled that the dispute would go in front of a jury. After two more years of backroom deal making a settlement was finally announced in 2023 that would see the developer receiving a small payout, and the city gaining redevelopment rights to Building No. 8. It was around this time that I visited the structure.

I had been getting rejected at everything I had been trying to access one morning in the city. I decided I had better stop pushing my luck and move on to another city. However, I remembered how accessible the old RCA building that stood downtown looked. The structure was unremarkable, but had a fantastic view of the bridge and Philly from the roof. After taking a moment to smoke a bowl in the car, I headed across the parking lot alone to the hulking shadow of a building. I could tell from the well worn path that the building was both a popular place to hang out for taggers, but also a shelter for some local unhoused folks. Not wanting to intrude on anyones space, I was extremely conscious to be as quiet as possible as I worked my way towards the stairs and began the climb up.

After about a half an hour I decided to get on with my day, so I climbed back down the stairs and headed to my car. I never did end up crossing paths with anyone inside, which was a bit of a relief. Currently the building is still standing derelict, and I'm not sure if it will ever end up being converted. Whatever happens I'll be sure to update the post. 

Lauriston Mansion

Source: Save the Lauriston Facebook Page

One of the first things many people in New Jersey associate with the town of Rumson is wealth. Not necessarily the nouveau-riche types with their gaudy beach homes and large power boats. Rumson has always held sort of an "Old Money" charm. It posesses quiet streets and large pieces of property, with homes hidden behind tall fences or thoughtfully manicured shrubbery. The relatively isolated peninsula sits between the Navesink River and Shrewsbury Bay. Plenty of homes here date back over a century, and many have found themselves places on the National Register of Historic Places. However the first home ever to land on the register happens to be one of the most beautiful homes Rumson ever saw. 

This beautiful colonial revival mansion was built in 1913 at 91 Rumson Road. While the ten thousand square foot dwelling boasts all the grandeur one would expect from a primary residence, it was actually designed as a summer home for a man named Harry A. Cesar and his second wife Laura. The mansion was named Lauriston in her honor.

Famed Monmouth County architect Leon Cubberly was chosen to design the home. The name may sound familiar, as Cubberly was the principal architect chosen to design the old Paramount Theater in nearby Long Branch.

The home was an architectural masterpiece, boasting marble walls and fireplaces, hardwood trim, plaster ceilings, just about everything you would expect to find in an extravagant home from the time period. A large sweeping staircase welcomed all who walked through the front doors. 

Laura survived her husband, but she too passed away in 1942. After many wonderful summers the family decided to sell the house to a man named J. Howard Smith.

The building changed hands several times and underwent a number of renovations over the next few decades. The 39 acre property was split up into several different parcels which were each sold and built upon. Six acres were maintained around the mansion, including the main driveway and the gardens that Laura Cubberley had dedicated so much time to. 

Lautiston was sold again in 1981 for $390,000, and the new owners made a few  Each time a room in the mansion was updated, the stewards took decent care to make sure the style of the home was cohesive and stylish. By 2002 the then-owners of Lauriston had taken such a liking to the home that they decided to have the property listed on the National Register of Historic Places. This was the strongest possible move they could have taken to ensure the landmark building and gardens would be able to be enjoyed by onlookers in perpetuity.

Unfortunately as time went on, things went south for the property. It was listed for sale several times between 2014 and 2017. Real estate listings praised the home for its many opulent features. That didn't stop it from falling into the hands of developer Roger Mumford, who bought the property for $3.7 million . Mumford sued Red Bank on behalf of the 2020 NJ Affordable Housing Mandates for a variance that would allow him to massively overdevelop the piece of property. The town quietly settled with him, to the chagrin of hundreds of town citizens.

While residents continued to speak out against the sneaky and unethical way the redevelopment was approved, Mumford took petty vengeance by doing nothing whatsoever to secure the historic building. 

Before long the mansion was the site of several outrageous parties, with the local brats going full Project X on the unattended property.

They destroyed the main staircase, trashed the entire house, spray painted the walls, and punched holes in walls. Within a matter of months the building was entirely in shambles.

This is a classic tactic discussed several times on this blog. A developer buys a property, does absolutely nothing to secure or maintain it, and then claims things are "too far gone" to be saved. Despite being a shady and entirely unethical thing to do, developers across the country continue to do it all time.

Lauriston continued to languish well into 2023. Unfortunately on March 27th, 2024 demolition crews turned up and tore the home down. I can't say much else could have been done with the mansion by then. Once again, demolition by neglect has won. 

St. Joseph's Village/Bergen County Healthcare Center

St Joseph's Home for Dependent Children was a large orphanage that once stood on Piermont Road in Rockleigh. The complex of small, one story brick buildings was built in 1958 on 48 acres of was then undeveloped land.

Source: TFPNJ Postcard Archive

Almost the entire campus was built at the same time. It was known as St. Joseph's Village. The village was founded by the Newark Sisters of St. Joseph as a replacement for their orphanage in Englewood Cliffs which was destroyed by a fire on April 1st, 1953.

Source: Palisades Interstate Park Facebook page

The new facility had a large central chapel, a gymnasium/auditorium, eight dormitories, a food services building, and a few other ancillary structures. The entire campus was connected by long corridors like many other facilities of its time. 

The last major improvement was a modern structure all the way at the west end of the campus. This was the only building that didn't get a corridor connecting it to the rest of the complex.

St Joseph's Village operated until June of 1973, when the sisters decided it was too expensive to maintain and operate the campus. The property was snapped up by Bergen County who reopened the facility as a nursing home. 

The nursing home had a rather mundane history, providing decent care for the 110 people who lived there at peak times. Still, the center endured high costs which weren't fully reimbursed by the residents. In addition, cuts to Medicaid at the time were poised to cost the center another $300,000 anually. An article in 2012 claimed the county was considering selling the facility, which could have caused severe turmoil among the residents. Thankfully they didn't go through with it. 

The facility was still open in 2020 when the Covid-19 pandemic rattled the nation. As a precaution, the administration stopped admitting new residents and and initiated strict pandemic policies. Despite their efforts there was at least one outbreak. Five patients ended up dying, and over 100 other staff and patients contracted the virus acording to a September 2022 Report. Many other nursing facilities that had outbreaks fared far worse, but the losses were still significant. 

A press release from the county went out on July 16th, 2021 stating that they intended to close the center. They cited financial problems among other factors, and pointed to multiple other nursing home closures throughout the state to back that up. The families were able to relocate their loved ones, and the county was able to find jobs for the whole staff at Bergen Regional Hospital and the on site nursing unit. 

Demolition began quietly in 2023. When I first rolled up to document the complex they were already in the process of abatment. After getting inside I discovered that the western dorms had actually been reused as a school near the end of the centers life. The school ended up painting a bunch of neat murals throughout the corridors.

I could tell by the aerial view of the complex that I was getting near the gym building. I was happy to find a large stage when I walked into the room, as well as a rock climbing wall of all things. Unfortunately some of the local kids had beaten me inside, where they managed to make a huge mess. They even set a fire in the center of the room. 

They had built a wall inside the main corridor to seperate the school from the nursing home. As a result I actually had to leave the building and find a window to climb through. As I dusted myself off I was thrown off gaurd by the lights still being on. It made the rest of my visit to the complex a little more exciting. There was a single security gaurd driving around, but they never seemed to notice I was there. 

By early 2024 the entire facility was gone. I'm not sure what the county is planning to do with the land. Considering the size and existing infrastructure I wouldn't be surprised to see it become a housing development.

 I don't get up to the area often, so I'll probably have to wait until Google maps updates to find out for sure. Another New Jersey Healthcare facility gone without a trace. 

Covanta Warren

One of the more interesting experiments in power generating technology has been the implementation of garbage fired power stations. Rather than using a high efficiency fuel source like coal or natural gas, these plants run on municipal waste instead. The premise is the same; the trash is burned and the resulting heat is applied to water in the boilers. This creates steam, which is used to spin a turbine generator. One of the largest providers of Waste to Energy power in the country, Covanta, built one such plant in Oxford in the late 1980's. 

Covanta Warren opened in July 1988. At the time there wasn't much any development around the property. The adjascent landfill was still being cleared, it didn't open for another two years. 

At its peak the facility was handling 550 tons of waste a day. That translated to between 13 and 14 megawatts of power production. That may not sound like very much compared to the output of the average coal plant, but it was still enough to power over 10,000 homes.  

The econonics of Waste-to-Energy facilities are complex, and are largely affected by federal regulations. These pressures eventually began to outweigh the fiscal benefits of keeping the plant open, so Covanta announced in 2019 they were closing the facility. 

The complex only sat idle for a few years. I visited once during that time, regrettably without my camera. It was not the most impressive plant, and Oxford is a fairly inconvenient place to get out to from where I live.

 I found out from my brother one day in March of 2024 that it was in the process of being demolished. I can't say I'm too sad to see it go. I think the area will look a lot better without the obtrusive industrial facility sticking out from the trees. It goes on to join a long list of retired and eventually demolished power plants in the state. 

Brick Presbyterian Church

Source: TFPNJ Historic Postcard Archive

Sometimes a building will be so iconic, it becomes synonymous with a specific neighborhood. Sometimes it's a hospital, or a tall tower, but more often I find it's a church. The first example of this that comes to mind for me is, without a doubt, Brick Church. 

The Presbyterian congregation that founded Brick Church formed in 1832, but it wasn't until 1878 that the iconic red brick structure rose up on the corner of Main Street and Prospect. The new house of worship was designed in a handsome Romanesque style. 

The founding congregation was dwindling by the turn of the century. The building was sold to the Temple of Unified Christians, a small Haitian ministry. 

The large building was more space than the congragation could keep up with. The main sanctuary was slowly falling apart while the Temple used the large choir room in the back. I had been keeping an eye on the building as it continued to deteriorate. Over the years. Every so often I would see a member of the congregation outside the building. One time I asked if I could go inside and take pictures. Unfortunately I was flatly rejected.

The Temple Of Unified Christians eventually left the building in 2020, right around the time Covid was running rampant. I continued to check up on the building, but without an official closure announcement I wasn't totally sure if the building was totally unoccupied yet. Then one day a friend of mine who was in the area let me know there was a door ajar out back. 

The next morning  I was inside documenting the building. The main sanctuary was less impressive than I always imagined, but I was very grateful to finally see what was on the other side of the stained glass.

Then on April 19th of 2023 that same friend sent me a frantic message. " Dude.... did you know they're tearing down brick church??" accompanied by a screenshot that showed the work. I flew down to the site to see it for myself, and sure enough there was a massive hole ripped through the most structurally intact portion of the building.

The demolition was done under the cover of darkness because the owners knew they would never be able to get the proper permits for the work if they went about the demolition the right way. 

Horrified passers-by called the police, who showed up and promptly halted the work. Unfortunately too much damage had been done, and the building was now beyond fixing.

The church sat wide open to the elements for almost a year as the city decided whether or not to allow the owners to finish the job. Eventually they were given the go ahead, and work started up again in March of 2024.

There are so many people to blame here. Whether by ignorance or malice, this historic treasure which was the namesake for the neighborhood is now gone. The demolition was done so quick and sloppily, and with almost no attempts made to salvage the beautiful, priceless interior. Hopefully this loss will serve as a motivation for city officials to never let this happen again.