Raquel Rutledge Abandoned buildings call his name. He senses it as he passes by and sees the shattered windows. The faded paint and crumbling facades draw him in, like a hunter lured by the smell of the North Woods in November. Never mind the signs warning "Danger Keep Out" or "No trespassing." He keeps a blank check tucked in his coat pocket. Bail money, he says. A lesson he learned last summer, the hard way. Nothing matters now but the itch to get inside, to travel back in time, explore what remains, and most of all snap some pictures. Andrew Hamilton is an urban explorer and is among a growing network of people worldwide who venture into deserted factories, underground steam tunnels, empty train stations anywhere that might serve as a private playground, off-limits to the law-abiding public. Linked mostly by the Internet, the number of urban explorers now registered with a Web site in Toronto totals nearly 9,000 and is growing by dozens every day, said the site's host, who would identify himself only as Avatar-X, a 23-year-old computer programmer. "The people who are into this range throughout the entire spectrum," he said. "Students, workers, government officials, chiefs of police. I do know of several police officers." Explorers range in age from 12 or 13 to 60 or 70, with most being between 18 and 30, he said. "I can tell you there are people who do it all over the world," he said. "It's very popular in North America, Australia, the U.K. and Scotland." And yes, in Milwaukee as well. Some consider themselves historians, others amateur archeologists and photographers. They are not, they insist, vandals or graffiti artists. True urban explorers take nothing and leave nothing. "It's going where you're not supposed to go and looking behind closed doors," Avatar-X said. "That feeling of being somewhere where your spirit, your mind, your intuition takes you, not just where the signs say to go." They have seemingly innocent intentions. But police, property owners and public works officials have another name for so-called urban explorers: trespassers. They warn of the dangers of going into dilapidated buildings and underground tunnels. Toxic fumes, asbestos and rotten floorboards are only a few potentially fatal hazards looming in many of the sites. "You could burn yourself on a pipe," said Pamela Hodermann, chief of police at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, where, years ago, the underground steam tunnels were a favorite of explorers. Tunnel-goers also could be killed by poisonous gases or heat from valve leaks or breaks. "You'd get cooked pretty quick," Hodermann said. And even a broken leg could prove fatal because the entrances and exits are so spread out, she said. "You go in at one point, you might not be able to go out for four or five blocks," she said. The university locked down the tunnels in the 1990s, and Hodermann said she is not aware of anyone getting in there since. Other security officials around Milwaukee said they are not aware of urban explorers venturing into abandoned buildings or tunnels. "I'm really skeptical of whether this is occurring," said William Fadrowski, chairman of the Downtown Security Network Association, a group of more than 100 security directors from public and private places downtown. "We have monthly meetings. We have an alert tree that we fax current information about crime trends. . . . We have daily contact with the police department. I have never heard of this problem," said Fadrowski, who is also director of public safety for the Milwaukee School of Engineering. Officials in the district attorney's office, the municipal courts and the Public Works Department also said they had no knowledge of urban explorers sneaking into deserted buildings or the bowels of the city. But Andrew Hamilton and other explorers know and tell otherwise, and have even documented their excursions on the Internet. Photographs of the interiors of numerous buildings, including the old Pfister & Vogel tannery and the Pabst brewery, various drain and steam tunnels and other locations across the state can be found on several Web sites. In fact, Hamilton says he's been in the Pfister & Vogel building on Water St. nine times in the past year or so, including one cold night in December. Dressed in jeans and a dark shirt and coat, the 20-year-old from Mequon parked his car along N. Milwaukee St., just up the hill from the massive six-story structure that was abandoned in early 2000. With double-lined gloves, hand warmers, a bottle of Gatorade, a small SureFire flashlight, his camera and his cell phone ringer turned off he walked the perimeter of the 350,000-square-foot, weathered building. "This gate is unlocked," he said, discreetly kicking it, before walking further. "This door can be opened from the inside," he said pointing to a boarded-up door. "The barbed wire is down at the end of the fence." His eyes scanned the traffic along Water St. "You've got to watch out for the Coast Guard, too. They sometimes patrol the water at night," he said. "This bus stop here provides a great coverup. You can scout out the situation and look like you're waiting for the bus." Then Hamilton felt the itch. Heart pounding. Adrenaline blasting. You could hear it in his voice. "I just gotta get a few pictures," he said. He stepped back from the bus stop, slipped through the gate directly behind it, crouched down and darted into the shadows. Minutes later he burst through a door on the fifth floor leading to a small deck. The next second he vanished. And for the next 20 minutes he tramped through the maze of rusted machinery and old offices, soaking in the giant dinosaur IBM computers, badges scattered on the floor and a memo dated Dec. 17, 1999, outlining the holiday schedule. He imagined the hundreds of workers busy transforming thousands of cowhides into leather for shoes, cars, belts and other goods every week. "This is pretty cool," he said quietly from his cell phone. This time, unlike in June when he and a friend went spelunking through the deserted Pabst brewery, Hamilton made it out undetected. No sign of the nine squad cars that nailed him that time. There would be no night in jail talking to thieves and drunken drivers. No trespassing charges which were later dropped and no phone call to his parents seeking bail. His face flushed, another adventure in his repertoire, it was clear: He had his fix. Jake Maciejewski knows the feeling. The young Neenah man, who graduated from MSOE in May, has explored the Pfister & Vogel building as well as many others in Milwaukee and around his hometown. "It's maybe a way of recognizing the death of all the efforts of the people that put all the work into the places, that none of that stuff is permanent. . . . That after we leave, nature takes over," said Maciejewski, 22. Maciejewski says his fascination with exploring dates back to grade school days when he sneaked away from an event to explore a darkened, off-limits area of the school. Steve Duncan operates a Web site, undercity.org, and came to Milwaukee this year to explore the Pabst brewery, with the property owners' permission, for a Discovery Channel documentary on urban exploration. "It's a great city," he said. "With its social and industrial history, it's perfect" for urban exploration. Duncan spends most his time in the belly of New York City. Equipped with oxygen meters, respirators, waders and other gear, Duncan has been exploring since 1996. The terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, coupled with the prevalence of cell phones, have made urban expeditions more difficult, he said. Duncan has been arrested or detained three times since the attacks the first in November 2001 when he took photographs with a telephoto lens from the rooftop of a cathedral. "Somebody called it in as a terrorist with a rifle," he said. His most recent encounter with police was in the summer while peering down a manhole. Somebody reported him for suspicious activity. "That would never have happened prior to 9-11," he said. "They would have been like Oh there's a kook wandering around,' and cops wouldn't have taken it very seriously." Arrests such as Duncan's and Hamilton's serve as wake-up calls to police and others tasked with ensuring public safety, said Milwaukee Police Officer Mark Buetow, a community liaison officer for District 1. "If these kids are doing it, how come some al-Qaida terrorist can't be shoving fiber optic telecommunication cables in there," said Buetow, who learned of urban explorers when Hamilton was arrested. "Unfortunately we have some landlords who don't care enough to keep the buildings secure enough to keep them out." Owners of Pfister & Vogel said they were not aware of the sieve-like security at the abandoned tannery that is soon to be luxury condos and apartments, or that it's a favorite recreation site of local explorers. "We try and keep it as locked up as securely as possible," said Richard Lincoln, senior vice president of the Mandel Group, which owns the property. "We also recognize that short of posting guards on the property 24 hours, it's not absolutely secure." Like walking in your grandma's attic Einar Tangen understands the difficulty in keeping determined explorers away. After all, as head of Business Improvement District No. 2 in the Historic Third Ward, he knows what drives them. "It's part of our pioneering spirit," he said. "There's something about abandoned spaces. . . . You walk in and you get these soaring ceilings and old wood and you see how the building was and how it was being used where huge machinery was. It's cool. It's like walking through your grandma's attic." Tangen imagines a day when urban exploration is no longer illicit. "Somebody should start a business: Urban exploration in a safe and fun manner," he said. "People are always looking for something interesting, a little dangerous and a little taboo." ---- Copyright 2010, Journal Sentinel Inc. All rights reserved. (Note: This notice does not apply to those news items already copyrighted and received through wire services or other media.) (C) 2005 The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. via ProQuest Information and Learning Company; All Rights Reserved |