Flood Middle School, Englewood, CO - Part 1
Back to School Special: Flood part 1...
Formerly located at the southeast corner of the busy Broadway and Hampden Ave interchange in Englewood, Colorado. Flood Middle School's main entrance was actually 3695 S. Lincoln Street, which is where the above picture was taken. The building was constructed in 1920 for use as Englewood High School, housing grades 7-12 until 1951. A new high school was built a few blocks to the southeast. The old Englewood High School was renamed Flood Middle School, after principal Mary Louise Flood. (Strangely not named after the oft-flooding Little Dry Creek, which flows a block north of the school.)
The First Abandoned Englewood Photo Tour: Flood Middle School, Saturday, April 13, 2013
I'd been planning a photo tour of the area for a few months. Nothing major, my goal was simply wanting photographs of some local endangered building for my collection. That idea quickly spiraled into many hours of research and numerous sessions of walking around various parts of town with my camera. Preserving a disappearing history that few people are taking the time to notice. Then turning the whole project into a 150 page perfect bound book.
Two of my targets on this day were Flood Middle School and the former Englewood Masonic Temple (story to come!) buildings. Given their close proximity to the oldest parts of Englewood, these buildings once had major significance to the city, but were now considered obsolete eyesores. They would be gone as soon as someone put up enough money for something new to replace them.
On the west side of the building, the three segments on the lower left side, are the original structure from 1920. Broadway is at the far left, Kenyon is at the bottom, Lincoln Ave. on the right side. Flood had several additions and renovations during it’s 87 year run, a larger auditorium to the north and multiple additions to the east.
As Englewood aged, school enrollment dropped over the last 15 years. Due to shrinking classes, Flood was closed in the spring of 2007. The school district decided Flood's 300 students and staff were to be consolidated at Sinclair Middle School (about two miles south), which would then be renamed Englewood Middle School. The Flood site was then put up for sale.
Flood Middle School's old building sat idle while the property deteriorated, waiting for that sale. For the next five years, it was used as a storage facility for other nearby schools. The school district planned to sell the school as quickly as possible, but that didn't happen. The 4.5 acre property was appraised at $3.1 million, including the former school building and large empty lot across Lincoln Ave. When closing the school became inevitable, the district hired a real estate consultant to evaluate the property and possible redevelopment of the existing structure. But the school didn't sell. 2007 was simply too bad of an economy to try and get a project like redeveloping a large school accomplished. New retail wasn't interested in spending the energy and expense of repurposing a building of that size, despite the appealing location of the property.
Demolishing Flood would add a great deal of additional expense to buying the property, but would need to be done in order to bring new life to a prominent piece of land in the heart of Englewood. The district found that redevelopment of the school building wouldn't work, demolishing the former school would have to take place in order for the land to be re-used productively. The city of Englewood was open to rezoning from school and multi-family uses to residential, retail, office or institutional uses. In the meantime, other district schools took advantage of the leftovers still in the building. Light bulbs, white boards, projector screens, desks, tables, bookshelves, filing cabinets and locked storage cupboards were available on an as-needed basis. Drive on over to Flood and pick up whatever your school needed!
The raised section above the center doors, in the middle of ornate columns was removed in the remodel during the mid 1950's. All personality from the original Englewood High School was stripped away, replaced by flat, square, tan brick.
Flood's west side faced Broadway Ave, and I drove by it daily. Wondering what was going to happen to it. Activity inside Flood picked up significantly in recent months. I knew it would be torn down, but when?
In the early spring of 2013, I found the following nugget on the City of Englewood’s website:
“Environmental remediation has begun and demolition of the former Middle School is scheduled to commence in mid-May. The PUD (Planned Unit Development) to redevelop the former Flood Middle School property became effective on January 8, 2013. The PUD permits a maximum of 350 residential apartment units contained within two buildings.”
Heheheheh... PUD...
Anyways... One thing remained crystal clear; Flood was about to meet the wrecking ball, and I needed to get up there to photograph the school, before I couldn't.
Without knowing the order in which all the events that got the sale and demolition going at the time, I later found the Englewood School Board called a special session on March 26, 2013 to approve the sale of Flood Middle School (building and property) to Bradbury Homes for "slightly more than $1.8 million." Bradbury planned to close on the property by the end of March, but a hold up with Xcel Energy delayed the actual closing until April 10, 2013. Once that was taken care of, Bradbury hoped to begin demolition in mid to late May.
Bradbury planned on clearing the land to build approximately 250 apartments, inside two four story buildings, with all parking on site. Four story parking ramps would be built inside the wrap around apartments, one would be built on the Flood site, and the other in the athletic field across the street. The apartments would be geared for median income and above tenants, with 1 bedroom units renting between $1,300-$1,500/month. (That price has gone up significantly as the market developed.) The new apartment complex has been named "Alta Cherry Hills."
Back in the 1940's, the town of Englewood was rapidly expanding, and more room for students was needed. In the early 1950's, a new Englewood High School was built a few blocks to the southeast. The old school became Flood Middle School. With it's new purpose, a massive remodel was ordered. Unfortunately, Flood lost a great deal of it's character in that remodel. The exposed red brick trim was all cut away, the stubby tower in the middle was shaved off, and the existing building was wrapped in sterile tan brick, with light blue sheet metal panelling for accent. They definitely made it a great deal uglier for it's new purpose...
Flood's location placed it near both my Englewood addresses, and on my most travelled routes around town. I was familiar with the building after seeing it nearly every day since 1996. Photographing it before it was demolished for something new and ugly seemed important to me. This idea had been on my to-do list for a while, now it was time to cross it off.
I walked around the entire property, getting as many photos as I could from the sidewalk, searching for shots that would let me peer into an open window to catch a glimpse at the layout inside, as well as anything left behind. Surprised and delighted to see how run down the building was. Broken glass, chipped and cracked concrete and brick, rusted metal stains running down the exterior. Overcast sky above cast the appropriate light on my subject. We picked a good day for this...
Parking the Honksicle on the corner of Lincoln and Kenyon, Laura and I got out and took some pictures of the southeast corner entrance. A few minutes later, Mr. S. (name changed) pulls up behind us in his hearse. (We met Mr. S. earlier in the afternoon, in a part of the story I edited out of this post. More incentive for you superfans to buy the book!)
He asked us what our interest in the school was, and if we had attended classes here. I explained that I just wanted pictures of the building before it was torn down. Mr. S. was once a student at Flood, he said he has mixed feelings about the inevitable demolition, due to a lot of bad memories from his time there. On the other hand, there is sadness for the city to lose a little more of it’s history. This lead to a lengthy conversation about Flood's history, then Cinderella City, leading into the subject of urban exploration.
Asking me if I'd been inside, I replied that I'd like like to, but hadn't. He said it was pretty easy to actually get inside the school if we wanted, pointing out the gap in the chain link security fence blocking access to the courtyard. We would simply have to pull up the slack and roll underneath...
He pointed out which board covered a window that had been broken out, allowing us to crawl into to get inside. He warned us that the lights are on in most of the rooms, and the school is in good sight lines to residences. Getting inside undetected isn’t easy here, there is very little coverage in the area, with a lot of people living nearby. The security cameras and motion detectors are still active, but not monitored that closely.
Further warning me of possible consequences if I got caught inside the building:
"Most likely they will tell you to leave, but you could get a misdemeanor ticket for trespassing. However, if you took anything from the building, the charges could quickly be raised to a felony."
He relayed a story of when he was inside the Gates Rubber Factory, he had a bolt in his pocket, taken off the floor. Advising me that you don't want a charge like that on your record for the rest of your life, especially when it's for something that is really stupid. Great advice. As tempted as I was to really explore the interior of this intriguing building, I didn’t need to bring any more hassle into my life.
Fifteen years ago, that may have been a different story...
I started off photographing the main student entrance, on the southeast corner of Lincoln and Kenyon, and walked towards the north end of Lincoln Street. The entrance to the three story school, was an offshooting spilt-level section of the brick, glass and blue metal panelling motif, doors on the south side with semi-intact windows.
The doors on the north end of the entrance foyer were boarded up, so I couldn't see inside of those. Ground level east facing windows were sealed off, with the exception of a couple I could see inside. For a building only being closed six years, it looked to have been a lot longer. Vandalism was evident, but tagging wasn't overwhelming. Windows were broken or missing, replaced with plywood or left with open holes, likely from thrown rocks.
The school's foyer was mostly tan brick, with some old hanging globe light fixtures suspended from the ceiling. Defaced by spray painted wall markings made by the demolition crew, to prep the building for it's demise, could also be seen through the windows.
Peeking inside the uncovered window by the pine tree was a table, with a desk chair frame underneath. On top of the table was a well aged and incomplete notebook. I really wanted to see what that notebook had to say... It needed to be saved... On the floor behind that, was a large picture of the school mascot, the Englewood Panthers. Which also needed to be saved... Neither of them likely were...
Uncovered window closer to the south doors offered a different view of the ascending stairs, as well as more demo crew booty... A shopping cart from Safeway, a portable toilet (so the water had likely been shut off weeks ago), a clock stuck forever on 7:36 and a sign warning me of security cameras taking pictures of me taking pictures of them. Oh, the steel railing had already been sawn off the staircase.
Just south of the entrance was the frame for a sad little bench. Rusted and missing the actual bench, save for one tiny square, still bolted into the top. Doesn't look very comfortable these days...
Beyond the door was a hallway to the north, and doors leading into the round building. All the lights were on inside, exposing piles of chairs against the wall, and another shopping cart amongst other closed-up school related stuff.
At this point in my tour, I doubled back to catch up with Laura, who was still talking to Mr. S. He drove off and we walked back up Lincoln street. Past the fenced off courtyard, and down towards the basketball courts and parking lot.
Across Lincoln street was a large field, used for school athletics. It was overgrown with weeds and very neglected. But it too was tobacco free! I made sure to finish my cigarette while walking around the field, taking more pictures.
Many of the windows boarded up and a couple that are wide open for very easy access to the inside...
If a person wanted to simply walk in and explore an awesomely significant and intact historical structure, that wont be around for much longer... If one were to want to do such a thing... There would be the entrance you'd need to use... Just sayin...
Inside a chain link fenced off area just north of the courtyard, with wooden slats obscuring view, I found several sinks leaning up against the building. Next to some rusting metal exhaust system. On the other side of those were some rust stained concrete stairs.
I Found a wet softcore porn mag next to some cement stairs by the basketball court, stained brown with rust from the metal pipes used as railings. The outdoor cement rink was the home for a pair of left behind tennis shoes.
A "park rules" sign was placed above the entrance. Next to that was a "No Trespassing" sign. Kinda contradictory... I cant remember if the rink had barriers around it, to make it more rink-like, but the looks of the pavement, something shaped like that had once been there.
We walked back up Lincoln Avenue and Laura decided to wait in the car, while I walked around to the Broadway side of Flood.
Continuing on to the southwest corner of the property, was another entrance. This was the set of doors I was most familiar with seeing, because it was the first part of the school I saw driving north on Broadway. A simple sidewalk leading up to three stairs and inside to the school.
Behind the doors was a small foyer, with windows to the north, lighting up the room. Doors on both sides of the horrible fake wood paneled east wall, lead into the school. Items scattered around the foyer included some books, 2x4s, and a small wooden staircase going up about two and a half feet.
Facing Broadway on the west side was a lot of large tan brick walls. In the middle were classrooms, and the oldest part of the school building. Flood's original red brick long covered by an ugly remodel that placed large blue panels above and below the windows, mostly covered by rusting metal blinds.
Leading up to the middle of the building is a sidewalk to a set of double doors. I'm assuming this would have been the main entrance of the school before all of the additions and remodels over the years.
Flood was cleared pretty empty, looking through the west side front door. Light fixtures had been removed. What I'm assuming to be a row of lockers had been pulled from the back wall. Extremely worn carpet, covered in dusty footprints clung to the floor. It was clean enough, but tired and ready to go.
A door on the south side of the gymnasium sits with fading paint and tagging on it. The railing to the door has an interesting W pattern to it. This same style of railing was used at the "new" Englewood High School a few blocks away. Flood was given a facelift in the mid 1950's that was used a lot of the same design elements, so both schools have a similar look to the exterior.
Trendy for the day, butt ugly for any time after it...
On the west side of the gymnasium, three doors lead inside to a staircase that went up. On both sides. Which seemed kind of strange to me. Next to the doors was a brick and cement bench, in a small sitting area just off the Broadway sidewalk.
The north side of the gymnasium was closed off by a security chain link fence. Though the decorative fence beside it could have been scaled with next to zero effort. I don't think there would have been much reason to. With no windows and only one door, there would have been no easy access points into the closed school from here. This fence just gave the illusion of keeping people out, who wouldn't have been able to do much had they penetrated such an awesome barrier.
Three weeks later, the demo fence was set up around the perimeter. If I’d waited much longer, I couldn’t have gotten the pictures I did without breaking the law. The plug was about to be pulled on Flood...
Not only was the perimeter fenced, but asbestos removal began in earnest. In what reminded me of a reverse life support, all points of the building had hoses and dumpsters attached. The largest operation based outside the north auditorium... With red asbestos warning tape worn as an accessory to it's own funeral.
Formerly located at the southeast corner of the busy Broadway and Hampden Ave interchange in Englewood, Colorado. Flood Middle School's main entrance was actually 3695 S. Lincoln Street, which is where the above picture was taken. The building was constructed in 1920 for use as Englewood High School, housing grades 7-12 until 1951. A new high school was built a few blocks to the southeast. The old Englewood High School was renamed Flood Middle School, after principal Mary Louise Flood. (Strangely not named after the oft-flooding Little Dry Creek, which flows a block north of the school.)
Flood Middle School in 2000, from Broadway Ave.
Photo courtesy of the Englewood Public Library.
The lettering of Flood Middle School was removed shortly after the school closed in 2007.
*****
I'd been planning a photo tour of the area for a few months. Nothing major, my goal was simply wanting photographs of some local endangered building for my collection. That idea quickly spiraled into many hours of research and numerous sessions of walking around various parts of town with my camera. Preserving a disappearing history that few people are taking the time to notice. Then turning the whole project into a 150 page perfect bound book.
Two of my targets on this day were Flood Middle School and the former Englewood Masonic Temple (story to come!) buildings. Given their close proximity to the oldest parts of Englewood, these buildings once had major significance to the city, but were now considered obsolete eyesores. They would be gone as soon as someone put up enough money for something new to replace them.
Satellite view of Flood Middle School courtesy of Google Maps.
As Englewood aged, school enrollment dropped over the last 15 years. Due to shrinking classes, Flood was closed in the spring of 2007. The school district decided Flood's 300 students and staff were to be consolidated at Sinclair Middle School (about two miles south), which would then be renamed Englewood Middle School. The Flood site was then put up for sale.
Englewood High School in 1920, just prior to construction being finished.
Photo courtesy of the Englewood Public Library.
Flood Middle School's old building sat idle while the property deteriorated, waiting for that sale. For the next five years, it was used as a storage facility for other nearby schools. The school district planned to sell the school as quickly as possible, but that didn't happen. The 4.5 acre property was appraised at $3.1 million, including the former school building and large empty lot across Lincoln Ave. When closing the school became inevitable, the district hired a real estate consultant to evaluate the property and possible redevelopment of the existing structure. But the school didn't sell. 2007 was simply too bad of an economy to try and get a project like redeveloping a large school accomplished. New retail wasn't interested in spending the energy and expense of repurposing a building of that size, despite the appealing location of the property.
Demolishing Flood would add a great deal of additional expense to buying the property, but would need to be done in order to bring new life to a prominent piece of land in the heart of Englewood. The district found that redevelopment of the school building wouldn't work, demolishing the former school would have to take place in order for the land to be re-used productively. The city of Englewood was open to rezoning from school and multi-family uses to residential, retail, office or institutional uses. In the meantime, other district schools took advantage of the leftovers still in the building. Light bulbs, white boards, projector screens, desks, tables, bookshelves, filing cabinets and locked storage cupboards were available on an as-needed basis. Drive on over to Flood and pick up whatever your school needed!
Englewood High School in 1925, from Broadway and Kenyon Ave.
Photo courtesy of the Englewood Public Library.
Flood's west side faced Broadway Ave, and I drove by it daily. Wondering what was going to happen to it. Activity inside Flood picked up significantly in recent months. I knew it would be torn down, but when?
In the early spring of 2013, I found the following nugget on the City of Englewood’s website:
“Environmental remediation has begun and demolition of the former Middle School is scheduled to commence in mid-May. The PUD (Planned Unit Development) to redevelop the former Flood Middle School property became effective on January 8, 2013. The PUD permits a maximum of 350 residential apartment units contained within two buildings.”
Heheheheh... PUD...
Anyways... One thing remained crystal clear; Flood was about to meet the wrecking ball, and I needed to get up there to photograph the school, before I couldn't.
Without knowing the order in which all the events that got the sale and demolition going at the time, I later found the Englewood School Board called a special session on March 26, 2013 to approve the sale of Flood Middle School (building and property) to Bradbury Homes for "slightly more than $1.8 million." Bradbury planned to close on the property by the end of March, but a hold up with Xcel Energy delayed the actual closing until April 10, 2013. Once that was taken care of, Bradbury hoped to begin demolition in mid to late May.
Bradbury planned on clearing the land to build approximately 250 apartments, inside two four story buildings, with all parking on site. Four story parking ramps would be built inside the wrap around apartments, one would be built on the Flood site, and the other in the athletic field across the street. The apartments would be geared for median income and above tenants, with 1 bedroom units renting between $1,300-$1,500/month. (That price has gone up significantly as the market developed.) The new apartment complex has been named "Alta Cherry Hills."
Englewood High School in 1940, from Broadway and Kenyon Ave.
Photo courtesy of the Englewood Public Library.
Back in the 1940's, the town of Englewood was rapidly expanding, and more room for students was needed. In the early 1950's, a new Englewood High School was built a few blocks to the southeast. The old school became Flood Middle School. With it's new purpose, a massive remodel was ordered. Unfortunately, Flood lost a great deal of it's character in that remodel. The exposed red brick trim was all cut away, the stubby tower in the middle was shaved off, and the existing building was wrapped in sterile tan brick, with light blue sheet metal panelling for accent. They definitely made it a great deal uglier for it's new purpose...
Flood Middle School in 1970. Lincoln Ave. entrance.
Photo courtesy of the Englewood Public Library.
Flood's location placed it near both my Englewood addresses, and on my most travelled routes around town. I was familiar with the building after seeing it nearly every day since 1996. Photographing it before it was demolished for something new and ugly seemed important to me. This idea had been on my to-do list for a while, now it was time to cross it off.
I walked around the entire property, getting as many photos as I could from the sidewalk, searching for shots that would let me peer into an open window to catch a glimpse at the layout inside, as well as anything left behind. Surprised and delighted to see how run down the building was. Broken glass, chipped and cracked concrete and brick, rusted metal stains running down the exterior. Overcast sky above cast the appropriate light on my subject. We picked a good day for this...
Flood Middle School in 2013. Lincoln Ave. entrance.
Photo courtesy of me!
Parking the Honksicle on the corner of Lincoln and Kenyon, Laura and I got out and took some pictures of the southeast corner entrance. A few minutes later, Mr. S. (name changed) pulls up behind us in his hearse. (We met Mr. S. earlier in the afternoon, in a part of the story I edited out of this post. More incentive for you superfans to buy the book!)
He asked us what our interest in the school was, and if we had attended classes here. I explained that I just wanted pictures of the building before it was torn down. Mr. S. was once a student at Flood, he said he has mixed feelings about the inevitable demolition, due to a lot of bad memories from his time there. On the other hand, there is sadness for the city to lose a little more of it’s history. This lead to a lengthy conversation about Flood's history, then Cinderella City, leading into the subject of urban exploration.
Asking me if I'd been inside, I replied that I'd like like to, but hadn't. He said it was pretty easy to actually get inside the school if we wanted, pointing out the gap in the chain link security fence blocking access to the courtyard. We would simply have to pull up the slack and roll underneath...
He pointed out which board covered a window that had been broken out, allowing us to crawl into to get inside. He warned us that the lights are on in most of the rooms, and the school is in good sight lines to residences. Getting inside undetected isn’t easy here, there is very little coverage in the area, with a lot of people living nearby. The security cameras and motion detectors are still active, but not monitored that closely.
Further warning me of possible consequences if I got caught inside the building:
"Most likely they will tell you to leave, but you could get a misdemeanor ticket for trespassing. However, if you took anything from the building, the charges could quickly be raised to a felony."
He relayed a story of when he was inside the Gates Rubber Factory, he had a bolt in his pocket, taken off the floor. Advising me that you don't want a charge like that on your record for the rest of your life, especially when it's for something that is really stupid. Great advice. As tempted as I was to really explore the interior of this intriguing building, I didn’t need to bring any more hassle into my life.
Fifteen years ago, that may have been a different story...
I started off photographing the main student entrance, on the southeast corner of Lincoln and Kenyon, and walked towards the north end of Lincoln Street. The entrance to the three story school, was an offshooting spilt-level section of the brick, glass and blue metal panelling motif, doors on the south side with semi-intact windows.
The doors on the north end of the entrance foyer were boarded up, so I couldn't see inside of those. Ground level east facing windows were sealed off, with the exception of a couple I could see inside. For a building only being closed six years, it looked to have been a lot longer. Vandalism was evident, but tagging wasn't overwhelming. Windows were broken or missing, replaced with plywood or left with open holes, likely from thrown rocks.
The school's foyer was mostly tan brick, with some old hanging globe light fixtures suspended from the ceiling. Defaced by spray painted wall markings made by the demolition crew, to prep the building for it's demise, could also be seen through the windows.
Behind the glass were stairs taking you to the second and third floors,
as well as down to the basement level.
Peeking inside the uncovered window by the pine tree was a table, with a desk chair frame underneath. On top of the table was a well aged and incomplete notebook. I really wanted to see what that notebook had to say... It needed to be saved... On the floor behind that, was a large picture of the school mascot, the Englewood Panthers. Which also needed to be saved... Neither of them likely were...
Uncovered window closer to the south doors offered a different view of the ascending stairs, as well as more demo crew booty... A shopping cart from Safeway, a portable toilet (so the water had likely been shut off weeks ago), a clock stuck forever on 7:36 and a sign warning me of security cameras taking pictures of me taking pictures of them. Oh, the steel railing had already been sawn off the staircase.
Just south of the entrance was the frame for a sad little bench. Rusted and missing the actual bench, save for one tiny square, still bolted into the top. Doesn't look very comfortable these days...
Behind the bench frame, and set back from a small driveway cut into the property
was an odd round part of the building.
was an odd round part of the building.
Two small doors were the only entrance on this side.
Through a window to the left of the doors, I could see another clock,
this one was stuck forever on 12:04.
On the west side of the round building was another glass door, not boarded up,
but with another Security Camera warning sign.
Next to the door, hung a sign on the wall reading "Welcome to our tobacco-free school!"
Well thanks, sign! Don't mind if I light up a cigarette in your honor!
Beyond the door was a hallway to the north, and doors leading into the round building. All the lights were on inside, exposing piles of chairs against the wall, and another shopping cart amongst other closed-up school related stuff.
At this point in my tour, I doubled back to catch up with Laura, who was still talking to Mr. S. He drove off and we walked back up Lincoln street. Past the fenced off courtyard, and down towards the basketball courts and parking lot.
Across Lincoln street was a large field, used for school athletics. It was overgrown with weeds and very neglected. But it too was tobacco free! I made sure to finish my cigarette while walking around the field, taking more pictures.
The east side of the building's small courtyard, accessing an open first floor,
which had been fenced off for years.
What was left of the courtyard looked especially sad.
Tread marks from equipment left tracks on the sidewalks leading into the courtyard.
Weeds and small trees now growing through cracks in the sidewalk.
Many of the windows boarded up and a couple that are wide open for very easy access to the inside...
If a person wanted to simply walk in and explore an awesomely significant and intact historical structure, that wont be around for much longer... If one were to want to do such a thing... There would be the entrance you'd need to use... Just sayin...
Inside a chain link fenced off area just north of the courtyard, with wooden slats obscuring view, I found several sinks leaning up against the building. Next to some rusting metal exhaust system. On the other side of those were some rust stained concrete stairs.
I Found a wet softcore porn mag next to some cement stairs by the basketball court, stained brown with rust from the metal pipes used as railings. The outdoor cement rink was the home for a pair of left behind tennis shoes.
On the north end of the property were some basketball courts and an inline skating rink.
The basketball courts were sealed off by a chain link fence.
At this point, you could still go out onto the rink area, as it hadn't been fenced off yet.
A "park rules" sign was placed above the entrance. Next to that was a "No Trespassing" sign. Kinda contradictory... I cant remember if the rink had barriers around it, to make it more rink-like, but the looks of the pavement, something shaped like that had once been there.
I was photographed photographing the south parking lot...
Or the nice rusted meter. I'm not sure the order in which it happened...
The auditorium on the northwest corner of the property was separated by a fence,
so I didn't get any closer.
It was also sealed off from the raised sidewalk between the basketball courts,
that was a north entrance into the main school building.
We walked back up Lincoln Avenue and Laura decided to wait in the car, while I walked around to the Broadway side of Flood.
Continuing on to the southwest corner of the property, was another entrance. This was the set of doors I was most familiar with seeing, because it was the first part of the school I saw driving north on Broadway. A simple sidewalk leading up to three stairs and inside to the school.
No skateboards or scooters allowed!!!
Behind the doors was a small foyer, with windows to the north, lighting up the room. Doors on both sides of the horrible fake wood paneled east wall, lead into the school. Items scattered around the foyer included some books, 2x4s, and a small wooden staircase going up about two and a half feet.
Side view and from behind the small foyer.
Facing Broadway on the west side was a lot of large tan brick walls. In the middle were classrooms, and the oldest part of the school building. Flood's original red brick long covered by an ugly remodel that placed large blue panels above and below the windows, mostly covered by rusting metal blinds.
Leading up to the middle of the building is a sidewalk to a set of double doors. I'm assuming this would have been the main entrance of the school before all of the additions and remodels over the years.
Flood was cleared pretty empty, looking through the west side front door. Light fixtures had been removed. What I'm assuming to be a row of lockers had been pulled from the back wall. Extremely worn carpet, covered in dusty footprints clung to the floor. It was clean enough, but tired and ready to go.
A door on the south side of the gymnasium sits with fading paint and tagging on it. The railing to the door has an interesting W pattern to it. This same style of railing was used at the "new" Englewood High School a few blocks away. Flood was given a facelift in the mid 1950's that was used a lot of the same design elements, so both schools have a similar look to the exterior.
Trendy for the day, butt ugly for any time after it...
On the west side of the gymnasium, three doors lead inside to a staircase that went up. On both sides. Which seemed kind of strange to me. Next to the doors was a brick and cement bench, in a small sitting area just off the Broadway sidewalk.
The north side of the gymnasium was closed off by a security chain link fence. Though the decorative fence beside it could have been scaled with next to zero effort. I don't think there would have been much reason to. With no windows and only one door, there would have been no easy access points into the closed school from here. This fence just gave the illusion of keeping people out, who wouldn't have been able to do much had they penetrated such an awesome barrier.
******
Demolition begins on Flood Middle School
Three weeks later, the demo fence was set up around the perimeter. If I’d waited much longer, I couldn’t have gotten the pictures I did without breaking the law. The plug was about to be pulled on Flood...
Not only was the perimeter fenced, but asbestos removal began in earnest. In what reminded me of a reverse life support, all points of the building had hoses and dumpsters attached. The largest operation based outside the north auditorium... With red asbestos warning tape worn as an accessory to it's own funeral.
Including the triple door, double staircase entrance...
Flood was about to go, and I was going to be there with my camera!
Coming Soon... Flood part 2: "Let's Tear This Sucker Down!"
******
This piece was an adaptation of the Flood Middle School story that appeared in WQ70: Abandoned Englewood.
(That means it had less pictures than the internet version...)
WQ70 was printed August, 2015.
(Copies still available!)
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