Hidden in Plain Sight: Discovering the Abandoned School of Hall Summit
Driving through the overgrown roads of Hall Summit, Louisiana, you might easily miss the abandoned schoolhouse, nearly invisible under the thick veil of nature’s reclamation. Yet, once inside, this forgotten institution proved to be a veritable treasure trove of urban exploration.
One of the rare finds in any abandoned school is the presence of old lockers, and to my delight, all of them were still in place here. While most were empty, a few bore stickers, remnants of a bygone era. One sticker, in particular, caught my eye – it was a message against drinking and driving. An ironic reminder in a school meant for minors who, by law, shouldn’t be drinking anyway.
As I continued exploring, I approached the first set of stairs, which looked precariously sketchy. Determined to see what was upstairs, I found a second, more solid set of stairs to ascend. A tip for fellow explorers: in wooden structures, avoid the corners of rooms as they are often the first to succumb to decay.
My journey through the school led me to the gym, a highlight of my visit. The gym floor, completely rotten, crunched under my feet with each step, yet the basketball goals and scoreboard remained intact, standing as silent witnesses to the past. The locker room still had uniforms hanging from the lockers – they were The Hornets.
As I made my way back to my Jeep, a heart-stopping moment occurred – I stepped over a snake! Thankfully, it was just a water snake, but it still gave me quite the scare. After snapping a few shots from the front of the school, I headed towards my next destination, eager for the next adventure.
Echoes of the Past: Exploring George Washington Carver Elementary
The next stop on my journey led me to George Washington Carver Elementary, an abandoned school seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The open gate and absence of any prohibiting signs made entry easy, but the state of the school told a different story – one of complete abandonment and decay.
Upon entering, I was greeted by a long, outdoor covered corridor flanked by classrooms on either side. As I ventured down one of these corridors, it became evident that the school had been stripped and left to the elements. Roofs were mostly gone, windows shattered, and some walls had crumbled to the ground. Despite the dilapidation, I found myself imagining the lives of the students who once roamed these halls.
The school’s remote location puzzled me – how did such a large institution serve this seemingly desolate area? Pondering this, I continued to explore.
On the other side of the school lay the old auditorium. Without the stage, it was just a large, empty room. There were no seats, curtains, or any other indicators of its former purpose. The emptiness spoke volumes about the extent of the stripping the school had undergone.
At the end of the corridor, I found the gym. Like the auditorium, the gym was a mere shell of its former self. The rotting bleachers and the remnants of supports where backboards and hoops used to be were the only clues that this was once a place of athletic activity. The roof, now mostly on the floor, made navigating the space treacherous. I kept a wary eye on the remaining ceiling, expecting more debris to fall at any moment.
As I prepared to leave, I noticed a large hole in the ground, partially covered as a warning. Peering inside, I saw it was only about four or five feet deep, but still something to be avoided. Driving away, I couldn’t help but stare at the surrounding fields, still wondering where all the students had come from to fill this now-empty school.
A Taste of Simplicity: A Stop Before the Bowling Alley
Before heading to my next destination, an abandoned bowling alley, I made a quick stop at a little country store for a bite to eat. To my relief, they had hot food available, and I opted for the simplicity of chicken fingers.
Upon entering, I noticed a nice elderly lady busy cooking behind the counter. She didn’t see me at first, so I stood there patiently, not wanting to interrupt her routine. Eventually, she caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye, apologized, and promptly filled my order. “No problem,” I assured her.
As I approached the counter to pay, another lady, who appeared to be seated behind the tall counter, seemed to effortlessly slide to the register as if she were floating. It was only then that I realized she wasn’t seated at all – she was height challenged. I hoped my face didn’t reveal my initial misinterpretation as I paid for my meal.
With my appetite satisfied and a small slice of country hospitality experienced, I was ready to continue my journey to the abandoned bowling alley, curious about what remnants of the past awaited me there.
A Burned-Out Dream: Exploring an Abandoned Bowling Alley
The next stop on my journey was a massive abandoned bowling alley, boasting 32 lanes and billiards according to the sign. Located on a busy road, this place required careful timing to enter without drawing unwanted attention. I had to wait for the right moment, avoiding the gaze of passing cars and the potential for someone with ill intentions following me inside.
Finally, my opportunity presented itself. I quickly swung open the slightly ajar door, slipped inside, and pulled it back to its original position in one swift motion. I flipped on my flashlight, eager to explore, but was greeted with major disappointment.
I had envisioned dusty lanes with bowling balls scattered about, empty seats, and dormant pool tables. Instead, I found a burned-out, empty mess. The sadness was palpable. Despite this, I stepped down the lanes, which were mostly intact except for the water that had semi-flooded the place. Looking down the lane, I saw that the pins were still in the mechanism that sets them up.
Venturing onto the lane, I didn’t expect to drop down another level, plunging my leg up to my knee in the most disgusting water I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying a lot given all the places I’ve explored. Thank goodness for waterproof boots and semi-waterproof pants. I quickly pulled my leg out, realizing there was no way I could make it to the pins. I settled for a shot from a distance.
Among the debris, I found Brunswick housing covers scattered about, a trophy from 1984, and a couple of pairs of bowling shoes. Aside from these remnants, there wasn’t much else to see. Timing my exit carefully, I made my way outside and took a few shots of the exterior.
Disappointed, I headed towards my next destination – an old women’s prison – hoping for a more rewarding exploration.
Revisiting Shadows: The Women’s Prison Redux
Having explored the old women’s prison before, I decided to check out its current condition since I was in the area. Steering my Jeep down a dirt and mud road, it eventually narrowed too much to continue, forcing me to proceed on foot. The path I had taken last time was either forgotten or hidden beneath the thick foliage, now much more overgrown.
Using GPS to track the location, I stumbled and ripped my way through the brush. This detour turned out to be serendipitous, as I discovered an old bridge almost completely hidden by the overgrowth. It was an unexpected find, adding a new layer to my exploration.
Finally, I approached the prison. Except for the encroaching trees and vines, it looked much the same as before. Once inside, I noticed that morons had found a way to destroy one set of stairs made of brick and concrete. Despite this, I managed to capture some shots of the front side of the prison this time.
Upstairs, everything was the same. It was still mesmerizing to see all the bars cut down to the concrete wall – undoubtedly the work of scrappers. As it started to get dark, I headed down the trail I couldn’t find earlier. It eventually ended in a tangle of vines and trees, obscuring the path from this side as well.
Taking another detour, I navigated approximately where I thought I was. Finally back on the road, I headed for camp, reflecting on the day’s adventures and the ever-changing landscape of these abandoned places.
A Night in Camp: Reflecting and Recharging
After a long day of exploration, I made my way back to camp and set up my bed in the back of the Jeep. The rain had just stopped, and the air was much cooler, making it the perfect evening to unwind. I started a fire and brought out my crockery to cook up a meal.
As the fire crackled, I prepared a delicious steak and some vegetables. Sipping on some whiskey, I sat back in my chair, staring into the flames and reflecting on the day’s adventures. The discovery of the old bridge, the state of the bowling alley, and the familiar yet altered women’s prison all swirled in my mind as I thought about plans for tomorrow.
Exhausted from the day’s exertions, I climbed into my makeshift abode in the Jeep. I cracked the windows for fresh air and turned on a battery-powered tent fan. The gentle hum of the fan and the cool night air provided the perfect setting for a deep, restful sleep.
Morning Coffee and Mississippi Memories: Exploring Rodney
With a cup of coffee in hand, I set off for Rodney, my favorite city in all of Mississippi. Today’s adventure began at Mt. Zion Baptist Church. The overgrowth was so dense that the church was nearly invisible, with nature appearing to win the battle of reclaiming the land. From the ground, it was difficult to appreciate the full extent of the church’s surroundings, so I sent up my drone to get a better view.
After capturing some aerial shots, I headed over to Rodney Presbyterian. The sight of scaffolding covering much of the front was a positive sign – it meant that restoration efforts were underway. I inspected the grounds and checked inside to see how the old place was holding up.
Sitting inside Rodney Presbyterian, I took some time to soak up the history of the place. The quiet reverence of the church made me wish I could travel back in time to see it in its prime, bustling with life and activity. The preservation efforts gave me hope that future generations might also get a glimpse of its former glory.
With these reflections in mind, I prepared to continue my journey, grateful for the moments of connection to the past that these historic sites provide.
A Journey Through Time: Traveller’s Rest Baptist Church
On my way out of Rodney, I passed through Alcorn and stopped at Traveller’s Rest Baptist Church. The contrast inside was striking: red cushioned pews against wooden floors and white painted walls. Fake but vibrant flowers brightened the sanctuary, adding a touch of color to the serene setting.
In the left corner, the old roof was losing its position, allowing light to shine on the paint-peeling walls. With the absence of a podium, I assumed the preacher used the half wall at the front of the church. Two Bibles sat on this wall, one of them opened, adding a sense of history and continuity to the space.
Curious, I struck a key on the piano. The first key didn’t move, but the next one produced a deep tone, immediately causing something inside to scurry about. I probably scared a mouse that had made its home there.
After finishing my exploration inside, I moved to cover the grounds. The church and its surroundings were beautiful, a peaceful reminder of the past.
With these reflections in mind, I prepared to continue my home, grateful for the moments of connection to the past that these historic sites provide.
The Explorer’s Pause: A Lunch in Natchez
After my morning adventures, I made my way into Natchez and found a cozy hole-in-the-wall restaurant to grab some lunch. Looking like an explorer straight from the frontier, I stood in the doorway, momentarily halting the hustle and bustle inside. Diners paused mid-bite, the grill flamed unattended as the cook stared in my direction, and a waitress froze with her pencil poised over her pad.
I met their stares for a moment before everyone resumed their tasks, as if I wasn’t even there. I made my way to an empty table and seated myself. The waitress approached and took my order without batting an eye at my rugged appearance. After a satisfying meal, I paid my bill and gave a nod to the cook on my way out.
Outside, I placed my hat back on my head, ready to head homeward, content with the day’s discoveries and the unexpected moments that come with the life of an explorer.
The Journey Home: Reflecting on a Successful Trip
With lunch in Natchez behind me, I hoped to stumble upon more places to explore as I made my way home via the back roads. Unfortunately, nothing presented itself. After hours of driving, I finally arrived home, tired but satisfied.
Another successful trip in the books—or should I say on film (SD card). I reflected on the adventures, the discoveries, and the unexpected moments that made this journey memorable. As I unpacked and settled back in, I couldn’t help but wonder: where will the next adventure take me?
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