Gary Indiana, an industrial mecca of a city and once gleaming poster child of an urban metropolis as synonymous with the rise of the great American steel factories as it is with the spiraling decline of the once massive industry. So prosperous was the United States steel industry that The City of Gary's soul was essentiality engraved into the very metal it produced, receiving its namesake from Elbert Henry Gary, a founding chairman of United States Steel Corporation. For decades The Steel City thrived, happily surfing along the wave of jobs and the bustling economy that steel supported, quickly rising to become one of the largest cities and economies along what is now referred to as the Rust Belt region of the United States. However, as the value of steel began to destabilize beginning in the 1970's, the economic wave quickly began to sputtered into mere ripples before drying up and leaving behind a soulless city, lost within a maze of empty streets and vacant buildings abandoned by the very people who had been forsaken by the once plethora of factory jobs which dried up as quickly as the industry itself.
Amazingly, much of the original steel infrastructure including numerous steel factories still pump out product to this very day along the south shores of Lake Michigan. However much remains in a state of entropy too. Corroded steel stacks and long silent blast furnaces continue to reach skyward, having become a permanent etch into the skyline of Gary. Long gone however are the days when these same factories used to employ people by the thousands. Gone are the sounds of slag trains and coal cars screeching along miles of railroad track and endless plumes of black smoke billowing into the air, emanating from the hundreds of stacks piercing the sky like narrow needles. Today just a small puff of smoke hangs over the horizon as the remaining steel industry barely survives, existing in stark contrast, a shadow of decrepit buildings standing like rusty skeletons against the open sky. A haunting reminder of what happens when a city reliant on a single industry collapses around the very people who once supported it.
Much like an individual person without passion, this city with its soul now ripped from its very foundation had now found itself without purpose. As Gary struggled with the loss of steel, its once bustling streets, buildings, and remaining citizens drifted into a seemingly permanent state of decay. Left behind by the absence of industry was a massive void which naturally found itself becoming filled with greed, corruption, drugs, and violence. It is import to remember that Gary is not inherently bad, nor are the people who live and work within its borders. However, Gary is hurting and with such pain often follows suffering and abuse. And that is just what happened to Gary for many years following the collapse of Big Steel, Gary was used an abused. From greedy politicians, underlying corrupt politics, and a public eye that often refused to face the daunting problems holding back the city from being able to transform into something new.
Such blatant corruption brings me to a story about waste and greed as captured by the above picture. A typical image of a crumbling, long abandoned warehouse, so nondescript and unassuming that it has nearly become swallowed up and forgotten within a densely overgrown field of weeds and new growth trees which have grown into a natural fence like perimeter around the building. This warehouse with an industrial history was once lined with machines and presses designed to punch out thousands of screws, bolts, nuts, and various other metal fasteners. Today, those machines are long gone, replaced instead with dozens and dozens of piles of discarded clothes and garments, so molded over and rotten that it is often impossible to discern a pair of pants from a shirt, for the entire pile has clumped together like a giant disgusting mound of shit, often wreaking similarly so. What has now degraded into nothing more than musty cubes of mold once started out as donated clothing destined to make their way to third world countries such as Uganda and Liberia, to be recycled and reused. However, the picture already gives away the corrupt ending, for the clothes now rot within what can perhaps be considered a third world city.
The cloth piles can be linked to a nonprofit called, Gary Urban Enterprise Association. A Google Search for GUEA will provide much more specifics on the actual corrupt doings of the company. However, I'm not much interested in the specific history of the corruption scandal, which has been wonderfully told and retold. Instead I appreciate the finer details of the adventure itself; the scent of the fetid clothes which essentially formed these massive sponges sucking up anything liquid, from water to oil, and PCB's galore. Climbing the clothes mountains to capture the above picture I can recall as my feet effortlessly sunk into the saturated rags followed by a slurry of nasty grey-water quickly pouring into my shoes, soaking my socks before trickling between my toes. If was as if I too became one with the waste and garbage around me. I learned from my moments photographing Gary Screw and Bolt to understand the often grave consequences of what happens to people, places, and things when their intended purpose is lost or sold off for a profit without caring about those that built a livelihood around it.
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