For as long as I can remember, my family visited the New York Catskill Mountains on vacation. We had a huge extended Jewish family, and over a hundred of us would reunite in one of the many Borscht Belt hotels. My father would sit in the lobby and talk with our relatives, sometimes all day and into the wee hours of the night. I would run around with my cousins from the soda shop, to the ice rink, to the game room. Spending time in these hotels, I learned the value of family and close bonds and felt that strong feeling of commonality. It was a simple and wonderful time. An era important to New York history as well as Jewish culture. By the mid-1990s, the Catskills hotel area had declined and we, like most families, decided to meet elsewhere. But my memories of those times are vivid. A few years ago, I returned to these hotels and began documenting their condition. These trips were both sad and beautiful to me. The memories I have of these places makeup who I am, and these images somehow help me reconnect. I wandered these abandoned buildings finding bits and pieces of that amazing time, just left there to rot. Pieces of the past enduring snow and rain, gathering cobwebs and mold, and slowly deteriorating with age and neglect. I know that one day soon, there will be nothing left.