Preakness Healthcare Center - Abandoned New Jersey

Tunnel Races

Demise of Preakness (2015)

    Preakness was essentially the red-headed stepchild of abandoned hospitals in New Jersey. We acknowledged it's existence, we went a bunch of times, but that doesn't necessarily mean we liked it. It was sort of like if that really cute guy you met at Starbucks ghosted you, but it was Saturday night and you were really bored, so you resorted to texting that kinda cute but also kinda creepy guy from Tinder. Not that I would know anything about that. 

    The first time I visited Preakness, a friend of mine had driven up with me for the day to do some exploring and ultimately meet-up with someone else. This is where the misadventure begins. The person we are meeting up with has been to the hospital once or twice before, so in the car we decide upon an impromptu trip to check it out. By now, it's getting dark out, and a snow-storm has rolled in. My poor Honda Civic can barely manage the turns as we snake our way towards Preakness. Our backseat driver starts to realize that perhaps he doesn't quite know where he is taking us. This is before everyone has smartphones, so it wasn't as easy to quickly narrow down where we needed to be. 

    It's also worth mentioning that the directions were coming from someone I would eventually come to realize is usually so stoned that they couldn't tell their left foot from their right. This is a common theme you might come to notice throughout some of our stories here. No matter, we press on, even as conditions worsen. We eventually arrive, a few wrong turns later, including somehow managing to drive down the sidewalk in the middle of a college campus. My new co-pilot then instructs me to go ahead and leave my car in the Police Academy parking lot. So now it's dark, on a late December evening, as we are leaving footprints in the snow from the Police Academy down to the abandoned hospital. What could possibly go wrong you might ask?

    Nothing. Absolutely nothing. After an uneventful entry and exit, we spend a brief period of time poking around before the screech and rattle of a rusty garage door opening scares us off. It turns out that the town was storing some Public Works supplies in an adjoining building, and some workers had stopped by to pick up snowblowers and other equipment. We venture back to the car, having accomplished nothing more than a brisk workout in the subzero temperatures. 

    My friends and I must have visited Preakness a few dozen times over the years, each time coming out with some sort of new ailment brought on by the staggering amount of mold. One of my fondest memories is one of the first times I hung out with Vacant NJ here. A friend of mine made the trip up from Philly with me to meet-up with him, and we somehow ended up at Preakness. As we were wandering around, we entered the tunnels to see if they connected to the adjacent detention center. After quickly becoming sidetracked, we found a group of relatively new wheelchairs in a corner of the basement. I would like to take credit for coming up with the idea, but I'm not really sure which one of us it was, but we decided to see how fast we could race them down the decline of the tunnel. We raced over and over again in near total darkness until we began to cough up black soot. We laughed so hard that we surely inhaled enough asbestos and toxins to cut our lives short.   

    I usually end these stories by saying how the building was leveled or stands as a pile of rubble, but this isn't true for Preakness. It was not only demolished, but the site it stood upon for nearly a century was blasted out to be used as a quarry. The road we would walk on to go to it doesn't even exist anymore. So much has changed.   

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