Like most urban explorers, I have a few locations in my pocket that I can rely on for a consistent, if not always exciting, experience to show my friends. One such location was the abandoned water pump station in South Orange, NJ, just a few miles from where I grew up. This nondescript, two-room structure became a right of passage for many bored kids growing up in the surrounding area — look what I did, I’m edgy, I explored an abandoned building!

Getting to the place was, quite literally, a walk in the park. Nestled in the southern edge of South Mountain Reservation, any hiker wandering by could spot the chimney, wander up and explore with impunity thanks to gaps in the structure. Fans of ‘The Sopranos’ likely visited: it was the location of A.J. Soprano’s car bursting into flames in the finale. The bargain-basement fencing that eventually went up around the building was a joke, as anyone could nudge past it.

All of that accessibility came at a price; it was a constant smashing-and-burning target. Even on my first visit in 2011, it was clear that the place was ready to come down. The roof was almost nonexistent, and the floor was crumbling away into several deep pits of tangled, dormant machinery below. It’ll forever be a mystery as to how it didn’t collapse onto itself; recently, the harbingers of building death began lurking around. The forest around the place was cleared, and construction vehicles were parked outside. I haven’t yet been past the area, but it’s likely gone.

It’s a shame to see one of my first urban exploration locations go; throughout the visits over the years, my photography got better and better. In a way, it was a photographic yardstick as I photographed other abandoned places, always coming back for a visit to a structure that started it all. It wasn’t all great: a careless moment resulted in my camera bag — which contained a brand-new Nikon D810 — plummet off the walkway and into the catacombs below. A few kind filmmakers in the adjacent room used a mic stand to fish it out for me.

On the other hand, the pump building is long past its sell-by date for good exploring. On my last two trips there, the floor was in such decrepit shape that I didn’t take more than two steps inside. Better it get removed now than before someone gets seriously injured (or worse).

For a lot of folks, it’s good riddance to an eyesore in a picturesque slice of parkland. For me, it’s a wistful farewell to a basic, but reliable, bit of exploring fun that helped to spark a lifetime of fascination with all things abandoned.