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Al Sihah Shrine Temple

In the heart of Macon, Georgia, the Al Sihah Shrine Temple stands as a quiet but enduring witness to more than a century of civic tradition, architectural expression, and community life. Though often mistaken for a religious site, the temple is actually part of Shriners International, a fraternal organization known for its philanthropy, ceremonial culture, and longstanding support of children’s healthcare.

The Al Sihah Shrine was established in the early 20th century, around 1910, during a period when fraternal organizations were flourishing across the United States. These groups offered social connection, mutual support, and opportunities for civic engagement at a time when such networks were central to American public life. From its beginnings, Al Sihah became a focal point for members throughout Middle Georgia. Like other Shriner chapters, it embraced a blend of pageantry and purpose by hosting elaborate ceremonies while also contributing to charitable initiatives, most notably the Shriners Hospitals for Children.

Constructed in 1931 in downtown Macon, the temple building reflects the prominence of fraternal institutions during that era, not only in its scale, but in its striking stylistic choices. While many Shriner temples drew from Moorish-inspired motifs, the Al Sihah Shrine Temple also incorporates elements of Egyptian Revival architecture, a style that gained popularity in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Egyptian Revival design is characterized by bold geometric forms, stylized columns, and decorative motifs inspired by ancient Egypt—such as lotus capitals, winged sun disks, and symmetrical, monumental facades. These features aligned closely with the Shriners’ ceremonial identity, which drew on imagined Middle Eastern and North African themes to create a sense of mystique and ritual. At Al Sihah, this influence is evident in the building’s strong lines, ornamental detailing, and overall sense of grandeur. The architecture was not merely decorative, but also symbolic, reinforcing the organization’s theatrical traditions and distinct cultural identity. Designed as a multifunctional gathering space, it featured expansive meeting halls and, later, a grand ballroom added in the 1950s.

Inside, the building was further distinguished by decorative artwork from muralist Athos Menaboni, whose contributions in the early 1930s added cultural depth and artistic refinement to the space. Athos Menaboni immigrated to the United States from Italy in 1921 after serving in the Italian army during World War I. He found his way to Atlanta, where his artistic talents were quickly noticed by prominent architects, leading to commissions for decorative paintings in private residences and public buildings throughout central Georgia.

For decades, the Al Sihah Shrine Temple served as a vibrant center of social and civic activity. Members gathered for meetings, celebrations, and parades, while the organization itself maintained a visible presence in community events throughout the region. As the group expanded, it developed Shrine Park, a large property outside downtown Macon that became a hub for outdoor events, recreational activities, and organizational operations. This expansion reflected both the growth of the Shrine and its adaptability to changing member needs. Like many historic fraternal buildings, the downtown temple experienced a period of decline in the late 20th century as membership patterns shifted and social structures evolved. In 2004, Al Sihah Shriners vacated the temple building, moving their entire operations to Shrine Park.

After sitting vacant for more than a decade, the former temple building drew renewed interest in 2018 when it was purchased by Epic Venues, a California-based company. The plan was to rebrand the property as “The Temple” and transform it into an event space for weddings, banquets, and private gatherings. Although renovations began soon after the acquisition, progress abruptly stalled without public explanation.

In 2021, the property changed hands again, this time to Atlanta-based Artisan Interests, a land investment and development firm. Their vision marked a dramatic shift: converting the historic structure into an esports arena, supported by a hotel and a parking deck. Despite the ambitious proposal, little visible progress has been made since the announcement. For now, the former Al Sihah Shrine Temple remains largely untouched, an imposing, silent landmark still waiting for its next chapter.

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W. J. Bullock, Inc.

Founded in the 1930s by William John Bullock, W. J. Bullock, Inc. began operations in the Wylam neighborhood of Birmingham, Alabama, as a secondary smelter specializing in the processing and refining of nonferrous metals, primarily zinc, copper, and aluminum. The foundry produced brass ingots, slab zinc, deoxidized aluminum, Babbitt-pattern aluminum, and zinc ash. At the time of its establishment, W. J. Bullock, Inc. was the only refinery of its kind in the country. These metals were essential raw materials for a wide range of products, and Bullock’s plant became an integral part of the region’s network of metal producers, helping to establish Birmingham as a major industrial hub.

Additions to the plant in the 1940s included an office, bathhouse, and chemical laboratory. These expansions were planned and designed by the local architectural firm Shaw and Renneker, which also constructed a bathhouse for the T.C.I. plant in Winona during the same period.

In 1950, Bullock undertook a $250,000 expansion that added 60,000 square feet of new plant facilities, an increase of nearly 50 percent in floor space and a comparable boost in production capacity. Several years later, William J. Bullock retired and moved to Fort Lauderdale, where he remained chairman of the board of W. J. Bullock, Inc. until his death in 1973.

In his retirement years, William J. Bullock was an avid fisherman. In 1963, while fishing near the southern tip of Florida in Everglades National Park, he and three other anglers caught several three- to five-pound jacks to use as live bait. Their captain then ran 16 miles out into the Gulf to a favored spot, rigged a heavy rod with 125-pound test line, and dropped a live jack into 60 feet of water.

Bullock later recalled that the bait had scarcely reached the bottom before a powerful strike hit. For the next 15 minutes, he battled the fish before handing off the rod, and the struggle went on to exhaust all four anglers in turn. When the captain finally brought the fish close enough to gaff, it thrashed violently, forcing him to choose between losing the gaff or being pulled overboard; he released it, and the gaff sank. Another 15 minutes passed before the fish was fully subdued. The captain then maneuvered the head alongside the boat, slit the lower jaw, and threaded a line through it. With the catch secured, the group towed the massive fish 16 miles back to port.

W. J. Bullock and his 416 lb. sea bass (Birmingham Post Herald)

W. J. Bullock, Inc. remained a family-owned operation throughout its history. Following his father’s retirement, W. J.’s son, William E. Bullock, Sr., assumed the presidency of the company. A graduate of Auburn University and a World War II veteran, he led the firm while also serving on the boards of several business organizations in the Birmingham area.

The company was notable for the longevity of its workforce, with many employees spending their entire careers at the plant, a rarity today. Among them was J. H. Borland, who joined the company in 1943, held a variety of positions over the years, and ultimately retired as president in 1983.

The W. J. Bullock foundry in 1950.

For more than 75 years, the W. J. Bullock foundry operated quietly alongside Birmingham’s larger industrial neighbors, producing metal ingots that supplied manufacturers throughout the Southeast. Yet, like many industrial facilities of its era, the plant also contributed to the environmental legacy of Birmingham’s heavily industrialized neighborhoods.

Working at the foundry was dangerous because it involved constant exposure to extreme heat, heavy machinery, and hazardous materials. Workers regularly handled molten metal that could cause severe burns or even erupt violently if it came into contact with moisture, and they also lifted heavy molds and castings that often led to crushing injuries and physical strain. These risks were tragically illustrated on the evening of November 30, 1964, when Pinkerton security guard Jack Combs was making his rounds and heard an explosion from the zinc department. Rushing to investigate, he discovered that a cupola had exploded, covering Bullock employee Clarence Cunning in molten metal and setting his clothing on fire. Despite the danger, Combs acted immediately, tackling Cunning, tearing off his burning clothes with his bare hands, and giving first aid before calling an ambulance. Cunning was taken to West End Baptist Hospital with severe third-degree burns, but he survived, and his recovery was largely credited to Combs’ quick and selfless response.

A ceremony was held for Jack Combs in March 1967 in the Gold Room of the Thomas Jefferson Hotel, where he was awarded a $500 savings bond and the Pinkerton “Award of Valor” from company president Robert Pinkerton. At the time, it was considered the highest non-military award in the United States.

By 1975, federal environmental oversight had tightened under the U.S. Clean Air Act, and the Environmental Protection Agency identified W. J. Bullock, Inc. as one of several Birmingham-area facilities facing emissions challenges related to particulate matter and nonferrous smelting. These emissions were part of a broader pattern of industrial air pollution affecting North Birmingham and Wylam—communities that endured decades of soot, dust, and heavy metal residues in the air and soil. Environmental planners later noted that facilities like Bullock’s were often located near monitoring sites that recorded elevated levels of fine particulate matter and trace metals, underscoring the cumulative impact of even smaller smelting operations on local air quality.

In later decades, William E. “Bill” Bullock, Jr. assumed the presidency, continuing the family tradition of leadership. A graduate of Auburn University, he joined the firm in the early 1970s and went on to guide it through decades of change and challenge before his passing in 2022. His obituary reflects not only his role within the company but also his deep ties to the Birmingham community, underscoring how closely the Bullock name was woven into local life. Following his death, ownership of W. J. Bullock, Inc. passed to his cousin, Buck Barnhart.

By the end of 2010, change had come to many of Birmingham’s older industrial facilities. W. J. Bullock’s smelting operations ceased in October 2009, when the company stopped melting metal and briefly shifted to a sales office while decommissioning discussions were underway. With the furnaces cold and machinery silent, the foundry gradually transitioned from an active industrial site to an abandoned relic.

In the decades since its closure, the W. J. Bullock property has remained on the market without a buyer. Scrappers have since removed portions of its machinery and equipment. Today, the site stands as a quiet monument to Birmingham’s industrial past. Its towering structures, broken windows, and overgrown grounds reflect a city transformed, where once-vital factories now sit dormant between memory and change. Unlike preserved historic sites such as Sloss Furnaces, which was restored as a museum of industry, the Bullock foundry remains largely absent from the historical record, its presence preserved primarily through photographs and the recollections of those who worked there.

Thank you for reading. Please share the blog with your friends. I appreciate your support. You can find me on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. For more amazing, abandoned places, check out my photography books.

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Dry Cleaners

Established in the 1970s, this family-owned dry cleaners faithfully served its community for decades before quietly closing its doors. When it shut down nearly 20 years ago, it was left almost entirely untouched. Inside, racks of clothing still hang in place, while presses, conveyors, and cleaning equipment remain exactly where they were last used—creating the uncanny sense that work simply stopped mid-day and never resumed. Today, the building stands as a remarkably preserved time capsule, offering a rare and intimate glimpse into the daily life of a neighborhood business, frozen at the moment it was abandoned.

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Old Plantation House

Built in the 1850s in rural South Carolina, this stately home once stood at the heart of a vast cotton plantation that stretched across the surrounding farmland. Its original owner married three times and raised twelve children within its walls. Together with his nephew and a farm laborer, likely an enslaved man, he constructed the house by hand, shaping each piece of timber and brick with care.

Designed in the classic I-house style, the home features tall brick chimneys and rests on a foundation of sturdy brick pillars and hand-hewn sills fastened with wooden pegs. Square nails and cypress shingles were crafted right on the plantation, reflecting the self-sufficiency of 19th-century farm life. In later years, the house served as the town’s first post office, with the owner’s son-in-law appointed as its inaugural postmaster.

In the early 20th century, a powerful earthquake toppled one of the chimneys. A renowned local brick mason not only rebuilt it but also designed the brick entryway that now frames the property’s front approach. Decades later, a hurricane in the 1980s swept through, destroying several outbuildings including the corn house, stable, and the old barn that once doubled as a lively community square dance hall. Remarkably, the property has remained in the same family for generations and today is recognized as a centennial farm, a living testament to endurance, craftsmanship, and Southern heritage. Despite a number of renovations, the home still retains many of its original features.

Locals say the story of this old plantation home isn’t quite finished. According to previous owners, a mysterious figure is said to linger in the attic, sometimes seen gazing from the rear windows in the fading light of late afternoon. Whether ghost or memory, the presence adds another layer to the home’s long and complex past. Vacant since the passing of its last owner more than a decade ago, the property now rests quietly beneath the southern sky as a haunting reminder of the generations, and the secrets, it still holds.

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Dental Clinic

Tucked along the Lumber River, Fair Bluff, North Carolina sits near the North Carolina-South Carolina state line. Fair Bluff was a quiet, small town with a modest downtown strip, generations of families living on the same streets, and storefronts that had survived decades of change. One of the many businesses near the downtown strip was this family-owned dental clinic that had served the town for decades.

In October 2016, Hurricane Matthew stalled over the Carolinas and sent the Lumber River surging beyond anything most residents had ever seen. Nearly the entire downtown flooded. Homes were submerged. Businesses were destroyed. More than a thousand residents were displaced almost overnight.

At first, for many, rebuilding felt possible. However, before the town could recover, disaster struck again. In 2018, Hurricane Florence delivered another catastrophic flood. The second blow was the one Fair Bluff could not absorb. Buildings that had barely been salvaged were ruined again. Insurance claims mounted. Investors pulled back. Hope thinned.

Like many rural Southern towns, Fair Bluff was already struggling due to a declining population, limited industry, and a shrinking tax base. When federal and state buyout programs offered residents a way out, many accepted. Entire neighborhoods were cleared. Houses were demolished. Streets that once held generations became empty grass lots.

In the years that followed, most businesses in the flood zone never reopened. Rather than trying to rebuild the old flood-prone downtown in place, town leaders adopted a plan to relocate the commercial center to higher ground. By December 2023, only a handful, such as a single restaurant, gas station, and Dollar General, remained active near the old commercial strip. The old downtown area was planned for demolition and conversion into a park or riverfront space to acknowledge the realities of repeated flooding while giving the town a new identity.

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