Days Before Death: An Exploration of the Tidewater Grain Elevator

The interior ground level exposed us to the first of many literal pitfalls to come. Holes at our feet showed dark floors and machinery twenty feet below, which, according to The Philadelphia Independent, are the rumored homes of "dog-sized rats."

After a few minutes on the first floor, we went back outside for some fresh air, but the attempt was a failure due to the sludge smell from the nearby wastewater treatment plant. Brad and I noticed Chris and another visitor couldn't be found. We figured they had gone upward, but we hadn't seen any stairs. It turns out we just hadn't looked in the right place: there was a haphazard staircase, which appeared to be an afterthought, in a support column.

Heart pounding, I ducked into the stairwell. The stairs were covered with concrete debris from previous strikes of the wrecking ball on the walls above, making the stairway difficult to climb and our sanity easy to question.

The challenges continued after the pile of concrete, including a missing stair (shown in the end of the first half) and a broken one. Above these hurdles, the spiral climb seemed endless, and before we reached the first level, we were well above 100 feet up.

Avoiding more holes in the floor - these providing the fastest way back down to the ground level - we worked our way toward the north wall. As we approached it, we found that there was no wall to be seen, only a decaying floor framing views over Philadelphia. Tentatively shuffling out to the edge, we grabbed our photos of the amazing views, then backed away in search of the next stairway.

Finding it, we ascended four or five more staircases, each of a different variety and in a different location. Although not quite as rickety as the spiral staircase, it's doubtful the fall-protection would've met today's safety standards.

Before we could get to the roof, one more challenge remained: a rusty 20-foot ladder to an exit hatch. The ladder was only connected on one side at the top, and it swung but held strong as we climbed. It made us nervous enough that we both forgot to photograph it.

Once on the roof, 250 feet above South Philadelphia, there was nothing left to do but rest our legs and enjoy the views.

For those interested in a more thorough tour, eighty-seven photos from the exploration are available on my website. These photos, and those of the day's four other explorers, are the last to show the interior of this amazing structure. The Tidewater Grain Elevator was imploded on December 23, 2007.

Photos by author, SkyscraperSunset.com, December 19, 2007.