For two years, I lived across the street from Oak Knoll Veterans Hospital - the main building looming out from an urban wilderness, over a hundred acres of ornamental and landscaping planting gone feral. I watched the windows of the tower reflect the sunset in the evenings, and wondered.

For two years, I tried to be a responsible adult - one who was, in my opinion, too old to risk a trespassing ticket. Even a few years before, I would have been over the fence in a second, but I was trying to fit into societal norms at the time, little knowing i was making for myself a life as bland as the day job i worked.

Eventually, after a series of panic attacks led to what might be termed a "breakdown", I was briefly hospitalized, put under the care of a couple doctors, a psychatrist and psychologist, and pumped full of enough drugs to sedate several twitchy little white boys. Though I had moved away from Oak Knoll, it stayed on my mind.

Coincidences aligned - read the Mole People, saw Dark Days, happened upon Infiltration and ordered the entire run, remembered running around storm drains as a teen - and it all came together, when my psychologist told me to "try something new". She said (correctly) that I was afraid to do anything that I didn't already know I would be really good at - so she wanted me to pick something that was made up entirely of stuff that i wasn't good at.

Let's see - suck at climbing? check. poor overall physical condition? check. Fear of heights, dark, spiders etc? check. I was set.

I hooked up with an old college friend, got him psyched on the idea too. He named himself Squib, so all we needed was a crew name, which my wife provided immediately, based on one of our favorite movies. The ROUS crew was born.

The night is still somewhat of a blur - i couldn't really tell you how i got over the fence, except that it was clumsy. none the less, i found myself on the otherside of a barbwire fence, staring into the dark woods and wondering exactly how many security guards, crackheads, homeless people, gang members and serial killers were in here with me.

Squib couldn't make it in at first, not being a skinny little bastard like me. Everytime he climbed the fence, it would bow outward, making it impossible for him to through his weight over the fence. I suggested he take off his shoe to get a better toe grip, and succeeded in making the situation even more ridiculous than before. Eventually, I found an L junction where the fence was more stable, and he joined me on the other side of the fence.

That night I made a wonderful discovery - I wasn't afraid at all. in fact, I really enjoyed myself, even when the buildings all appeared to be locked down (not true, but that's a different story). I had just assumed I was scared of these things because everybody else I knew was.

We wandered the grounds for a few hours, mostly in silence, stunned by the silence and fractured remenents of what had been almost a mini-city of in of itself. Suprising myself as much as Squib, I climbed decaying stairs, recklessly crossed crumbling rooftops, and weaseled through small openings in structures. Looking back on it, Squib was more terrified than having fun, but I didn't even notice, I was so caught up in the experience. For the first time in a long time, maybe years, I felt completely at peace, totally in the moment.

Fast forward to now, still exploring. Squib never came again, but thankfully, Mr Sleep joined me on my third trip, and has stuck with me ever since. We have been any number of places, drains, abandonments, etc but Oak Knoll still holds a central place in my heart, and for the ROUS crew in general. Most of us made our first explorations there, and we still return to it fairly regularly, and still find new things. The crew has grown over time, but myself and Mr. Sleep remain the heart of the operation.

Believe or not, my psychologist not only approves of my "new hobby", she has requested prints of some of her favorites of my photos. I no longer have panic attacks, and haven't been back to an active hospital since i started visiting the abandoned ones. Outside of my marriage, urban exploring is the most important part of my life, and i spend an abnormal amount of my free time on it.

Only a few days ago, I returned to Oak Knoll with mr. sleep, and was again reminded how important Oak Knoll was to me - and how, ironically, it continues to be a place of healing, despite its closure and abandonment.