Where Do Payphones Go When They Die?

Photographer Dave Bledsoe discovered a secret westside payphone graveyard at 135th Street and 12th Avenue. I hope they’re happy together in their retirement home. I’ll never forget all the times I dialed collect when my mom forgot to pick me up from school, and instead of saying, “This is a collect call from… ‘Emma’” she’d hear “This is a collect call from… ‘MOMMMM where are you basketball practice got out 30 minutes ago UGHHH I need a ride OK by — .’” Getting your message into the time window was always such a rush. [Gothamist/flickr]