A relic of Toronto's distillery district, the rackhouse — one of its last undeveloped buildings — offers a glimpse into the city's prohibition-era past.

“That Toronto’s waterfront is used by rum runners at nighttime to transfer their whisky cargoes is a well-known fact. But to catch the lawbreakers is another thing. The whisky men know when to come and go — when Toronto has gone to bed and the waterfront is under a blanket of darkness.”  – Toronto Daily Star, October 6, 1923

The rackhouse once stored thousands of barrels of sprits among its rows and columns, allowing time to age, flavor, and strengthen the proof. Soon, the building will be redeveloped; but for now, we can still catch a glimpse of a foregone era.

Bethlehem supplied steel that built the Empire State and Chrysler buildings. 20,000 employees once occupied the company's sprawling complex, where this Admin Building was active for over 80 years. It is a reminder of a history that warrants preservation in the face of brazen neglect.

Taken from a perspective of a former employee, these images capture moments frozen at the building's closure in 1982. Desks piled with papers, chairs situated at the controls, closets filled with supplies: evidence of acquiescent departure, or of hope that the doors would open again?

This historically and architecturally significant structure has recently been razed, despite calls for its restoration. Perhaps through a closer look, we can confront the neglect that betrayed its legacy.

1901 image courtesy the Steel Plant Museum of Western New York

Buffalo Central Terminal is a monument to the city's resilience. Its imposing art deco architecture embodies the optimism and grandeur of the 1920s, when construction began. But the Great Depression befell the economy only a year after the Terminal's opening, foreshadowing its beleaguered history.

From inception, the immense structure’s capacity exceeded the demand for rail travel. Designed for 10,000 passengers a day, and with its own power station, Central Terminal was perpetually underused. The rise of the automobile and interstate system, the loss of manufacturing jobs, and whispers of organized crime and corruption conspired to the Terminal’s ultimate abandonment. The last passenger train left the station in 1979.

Through the work of tireless preservationists and a visionary developer, Buffalo Central may finally secure the future it deserves. Plans are in place to rebuild the entire surrounding neighborhood, with the Terminal serving as a residential and commercial hub. There’s even a growing movement to bring passenger trains back. Here’s hoping.

The emptiness of a classroom once teeming with raucous activity is especially unsettling. However in at least one case, a derelict school will be rehabilitated for a new purpose, its halls occupied again.

“Kill” can also mean “river,” although the common definition is more apt in the case of Arthur Kill. Dumping toxins into its waters began during the industrial revolution. Runoff from the landfill on its banks poisoned wildlife for decades. But in the past 40 years, environmental legislation and cleanup efforts have made great strides toward rehabilitation.

The Kill’s ugly past endures in these moored ships: usefulness spent, rusted and rotting, their purpose exhausted. But among the distress of the listing shipwrecks, there is beauty as nature reclaims the waste. Oxidation disintegrates steel. Fungus dissolves wood. The past is forgotten.

An overcast day provided a backdrop that was at once bleak and bright. Blue crabs scuttled along, whereas a few decades ago they would have died within hours of being in the water. Even the adjacent landfill is being transformed into a park. Nature, given reprieve, can forgive.

Exploring the Neon Boneyard, I recognized the names on the salvaged signs from casino chips that my father brought home as souvenirs when I was young. Through the relics I was transported to the “golden age” my aunt and uncle told of “when the mob used to run it.”

In Las Vegas, novelty wins. There is a constant metamorphosis - sexier, bigger, louder - to separate visitors from their money. Opposite this sits the Boneyard, quietly preserving the city’s history through the reclamation of iconic signage that would otherwise have been scrapped to build the next big thing.

Once outlandish, these signs mocked convention; proclaiming the vices of gambling, sex, and excess. They beckoned America to the experimental oasis in the desert. Now, patina belies their iconography; their typography and design appear quaint to this generation of tourists.

But when I finished shooting and returned to my room overlooking the strip, it was suddenly easier to see through the city’s elaborate facade, and I longed for a simpler time.

With permission from the Neon Museum.

Traveling off the beaten path reveals roadside attractions once popular before the superhighway was built. Driving on Highway 7 I discovered motel rooms frozen at the moment of their abandon, gas pumps long dried up, desolate woods. In one motel, the floor had been partially cannibalized by its own foundation, exposing the tops of walls and views into adjacent rooms. Take the road less travelled, and take time.

Secluded from the area's commonplace cottages sit the remains of a sprawling 1920s estate. The property has seen numerous owners since the death and subsequent abandonment by its original patrons, but none have maintained its ornate structures. Nonetheless, the grand, eccentric vision of its creator is still manifest in the odd stone statues flanking the meandering stream, the elaborate reflecting pool, and the dance hall overlooking the lake.

These mashups feature photos taken decades apart at the same locations, contrasting past and present and demonstrating Liberty Village's  immense transformation. The aim is to reveal, and revere, what remains of the area's former purpose and historical importance.

1. Baseball: Built in 1877, the Toronto Central Prison chapel was also used by Inglis during WWII to manufacture guns. In 1941, workers take a break from manufacturing to play baseball . Today the heritage property overlooks LV park.

2. Carpet Factory 1920-2014: In 1899, Toronto Carpet Manufacturing Company built an impressive factory, state-of-the art in its time. Today, it houses some of Toronto's most forward-looking tech companies.

3. Liberty Street 1915-2014: During WWI, the corner of Liberty at Dufferin was used to house munitions made at nearby factories. Now, the street is home to thousands of new residents.