Punk Rock Art Photos: "Still Life: Defunct Medical Clinic"

 

<The long view, 

from the parking lot...>

Hard to believe, once upon a time, but this now-silent medical clinic, Moonham & Associates played a major part in the rhythm of our lives, when we first moved to the town we currently call home. Even in its current condition, you can see it was a state of the art structure, for the mid-2000s (though it was built in the late '60s).

Thoughtfulness abounded in the design. Ample parking in an ample lot, including more spaces for people with disabilities than you normally see. Central, accessible location, off a major five-lane road.

Numerous amenities, like a patient drop-off area. (If you're looking at the first photo, you drove up a small path, behind the array of blue disability parking plates, and then left, up a small asphalted hill, and back down again.) Every detail...

<Constant exposure to wet, rainy weather 

hasn't worked wonders for these signs.>

...seemed carefully considered, even if the waiting rooms still seemed stuck in the mid-'70s Mike Brady Gothic era, as I call it, with all their color schemes, comically narrow armchairs, cramped, unforgiving waiting rooms, and splotchy, questionable color schemes.

Bit by bit, however, the various medical practices here shut down, and pulled out. As we later discovered, Moonham's slow fade revolved around the wishes of our local hospital, that had started building three outpatient clinics on the outskirts of town -- just past the south side, where we live. The gravitational pull of "one-stop shopping" proved irresistible...

<The weather has done a number 

on the wood finish here, too, 

as you can see here.>

...or so it seemed, at the time. The actual back story is more complicated, as I learned, when I started digging online into the history of Moonham. At its peak, the clinic employed roughly 35 doctors, and 200 employees, of whom 40 -- in the billing and collections departments, naturally -- followed their employers to the new location. (Everyone else, presumably, had to dust off their resumes.)

The one local news story I found, from 2011, suggested the reorganization hadn't been smooth. Millions of dollars in unpaid property taxes had piled up since 1999. An additional $10 million in bank loans for real estate and equipment, also loomed, though organizers waxed confident that Moonham had enough assets...

<Closeup view of the clinic's slow fade.

As you can see, the elements 

have really taken their toll.>

...to cover it all. Explanations for the clinic's demise ranged from greed, to inefficiency, though the sources quoted in the story pointed to independence as the big reason. Some doctors supported the closing, and some didn't, but they all wanted to run their own affairs. It's the hobgoblin that dogs any sort of collective arrangement, as the boys behind fabled enterprises like Apple Records will tell you (or Motown, or Stax, or... You get the picture).

With so many partners involved, I can see how that issue got tricky, although I'm assuming that they had to vote on everything, including monthly board meetings, and all the usual organizational folderol that accompanies them (annual and quarterly reports, for instance). The story mentions that the hospital already owned a portion of the property, although...

<This sign marked

the crest of 

the patient dropoff area.>

...nobody seems in any hurry to develop the 4.42-acre site, which has sat empty for over a decade now, and the Squawker and I had stopped visiting around 2010, as we followed our fellow patients to the new digs. 

The property itself was sold in December 2018, for an undisclosed sum, to an equally undisclosed owner (the hospital, I'm guessing, though without confirmation, we obviously can't say for sure). Its current market value is $1.066 million, which generated $31,000 in property taxes last year. I'm guessing they've long since caught up.

<The view from the outer left edge 

of the parking lot...>

So there you have it. A small town version, I suppose, of the territory covered on the VICE Network's ruin porn show, "Abandoned." With subjects ranging from Cold War-era fallout shelters, to decaying malls, and the remains of Route 66, it's enough to make you feel like small potatoes, indeed (though I'm not as enamored of the later episodes -- which seemed like an excuse for the host to indulge his skateboarding hobby). 

<...and a closeup shot 

of the signs, as faded as the rest.>

Truth to tell, I'm a little hesitant myself to feed anybody's ruin porn narrative. In many ways, the story here simply reflects a business transaction, one directed by a major player (our hospital). At that point, the players involved had two options: swim against the tide, and risk moving somewhere else, or joining it. Not surprisingly...

<I've heard of the "broken window theory," but even this snapshot seems like an extreme version, doesn't it?>

...most preferred the latter option. It reminds me of the old joke that you hear cynics drop among themselves: "You say it sucks to be alive? You're right. Most days, it does." Pause. "But it sure as hell beats the alternative." Ba-boomp! But seriously, folks, a funny thing happened to me on the way to seeing my offices, my practice, and my staff getting turned upside down. Even so, as the above photo suggests, there's no doubting...

<Nobody has had to worry about

following the instructions for quite some time.>

...that Moonham has definitely seen better days, and it definitely looks like worse for wear. The faded signs (above) scream of a stereotypical Abandoned 101 experience, and of course, no real movement to scavenge the bones of the property, from blacktop to bricktop, seems likely. Not immediately, anyway.

So what are the city fathers planning on doing about this gaping vacancy in our town's otherwise well-scrubbed back side? I haven't heard in a long time, and my Google walkin' fingers couldn't find a definitive answer, so your guess is as good as mine. 

Going on our latest drive-through, however, the Squawker and I agree on this much: if Mother Earth wants to reclaim the property, it's off to a flying start. Lack of urgency does things like that. Or maybe something's happening behind the scenes, but nobody's announced it yet. We'll see what how it looks in a year or two. --The Reckoner

<Words: The Reckoner>

<Images: The Squawker>