Hinchliffe Stadium

We emerged from an overgrown access path behind Hinchliffe Stadium into what would have been in days gone by right-center field. The vastness of the U-shaped structure from that vantage suggests not a baseball or football stadium but a raceway, as it was indeed used for from time to time.

The remnants of a morning thunderstorm had just burned off, and our clothes clung to our skin from the humidity as we climbed onto the bleachers for a better view of the park. There we found a spot to interview our guide, Brian LoPinto, founder of Friends of Hinchliffe Stadium. We set up the shot and began our questions.

At some point during the interview I noticed a pinching sensation in the backs of my thighs. Afterwards, when I stood up, my jeans glittered with shards of fiberglass from the deteriorating bleacher seats. Every step I took after that was like walking in a pair of pants made of staples.

We went on with the shoot, circling the perimeter of the grandstand. At the top of the stadium, directly behind where home plate once stood, lay five empty concession windows like hollow eye sockets in a skull. We were wary about investigating the interior of the concession booths after we had spotted a tattered vagrant disappearing into one of them as we interviewed Brian. By the time we passed by for a look, however, the man had vanished. Still, we found evidence of him nearby floating in a wayward toilet bowl and scattered and smeared about the concourse just outside the windows. A black swarm of horseflies fled the scene as we approached. It was time to go.

—Daniel Ross, producer