I’ve never really gotten a good look at Crosley Tower – neither exterior, nor interior. Upon the start of its demolition, my FOMO had me mourning. As the tear down progresses, however, I apparently need not fret.
In April, “The Crosley Tower Horror” was released on Steam for a very reasonable $1.99. I’m by no means a gamer, but I am an enthusiast for all things Cincinnati niche. So I opted to give it a try.
In this “Urban exploration horror puzzle,” you’re a trespasser in Crosley, tasked with making it to the 16th floor. Your assignment? Retrieve the D.E.M.O.N. Sphere for a science experiment. Your nemesis? Asbestos. Lots of it, made all the worse by the fact that you have asthma. Alongside finding clues that’ll get you to the top floor, you also collect inhalers and batteries, which you use throughout the game to preserve your health and flashlight as you navigate asbestos-speckled spaces.
It’s a pleasantly creepy game. You rummage through cabinets in darkened circa 1969 labs, and piece together clues in abandoned notes. And while rumor has it that a man experiencing homelessness may inhabit the upper floors, signs point to something more sinister throughout the game; the start of the game includes a newspaper clipping referencing “many years of disappearances.”
It’s no secret that Crosley Tower enjoys its own hyper-local fandom, and a simultaneous, burning hatred that extends nationally. The Crosley Tower Appreciation Club remains one of the most popular groups on UC’s campus. Meanwhile, back in 2017, Architectural Digest put Crosley first on its list of the “7 Ugliest University Buildings in America.”
Juju Stojanovic has explored feelings like these. With both parents working at UC, the now-DAAP student grew up frequenting campus, where what she calls a “brutalist chunk of concrete” always stood out. Because of its form, yes, but also because of what her childhood self saw as a certain humanity.
“There were these portholes that were at the top that I think are just very personifiable as eyes,” Stojanovic said.
Today, she’s the mind behind the Crosley Display Face type design. Her research into Crosley history for the type design, and her subsequent discovery of a whole Crosley “culture,” eventually spawned her Capstone project: “Ode to Crosley,” a 372-page book diving into the Crosley zeitgeist via history, photographs and other creative tributes.
Meanwhile, Louisville native Annie Thompson, a CCM graduate, didn’t grow up in the shadow of Crosley.
“I didn’t really think twice about the building, to be honest with you, at first,” she said. “My freshman year at UC was 2020, so I was barely even on campus.”
She still found herself fascinated by UC’s characteristically varied architecture as a whole. Tapping into this interest for her Capstone project, she soon discovered a strong contender for a subject.
“One building stuck out a little bit from among the rest,” she said with a chuckle of her preliminary research.
She ultimately opted to pursue a Crosley-focused Capstone herself, producing a 15-minute documentary: “ Crosley Tower: A Special Hunk of Concrete.”
And in the era of its demolition, tributes have apparently become more intricate. This game, alongside Stojanovic’s projects and Thompson’s documentary, is arguably one of them.
The game design isn’t super complicated, but, as I learned from my conversations with Stojanovic and Thompson, it’s probably made by someone who knows the building interior well – they even included the exalted first floor conversation pit.
Indeed, the 16th floor was locked off to the Crosley curious for the last few years of the building’s existence. The labs really were that outdated. Asbestos was a legitimate concern.
The Crosley Tower Horror is developed and published by Steam user “ithinknotm8!” Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to track down who this actually is, but, based on the apparent level of detail, I’d wager they’re a student or alum. Or perhaps just a major brutalist building fan with a very active imagination.
Both Stojanovic and Thompson use the same word in our conversations to describe Crosley Tower: “liminal.”
And despite neither having played the game, it’s a spot-on descriptor for it. Stojanovic recalls exploring the floors of the building (apparently this used to be a common UC pastime), and getting the sense of something lurking behind every closed door. The game – and apparently the building – might very well be considered the Cincinnati version of The Backrooms.
This game may also be a reflection of the relationship between Crosley love and the digital sphere. In her conversations with alumni from previous decades, Stojanovic learned that Crosley only relatively recently became such a hot topic.
“Some of them told me that the discourse about it on campus was just not as much, and I think the internet is something that has helped to increase that,” she said.
So far, and despite the mixed opinions on the building itself, the game only has one negative review (“0-10 My dad is getting tired of checking under my bed for the Crosley tower”). From what I can tell, it’s pretty straightforward gameplay (I really have no basis for comparison, except maybe Mario Kart). You wander through abandoned floors, you rummage through random filing cabinets, you hold your breath– all in an eerie quiet.
For $1.99, I’ve found that it also offers a surprising amount of gametime for such a simple concept (although bear in mind that I am still new to this). Most of my attempts to beat the game have lasted 30-40 minutes, if not more – and there are no checkpoints or saves.
At time of writing, the asbestos keeps besting me. I have yet to discover the potential horrors that await on the 16th floor. Yet I can rest a little easier knowing that, through this game, and the entire Crosley subculture I’ve become acquainted with, there is one scary thing we’ll never need to fear – forever losing the memory of this Cincinnati architectural icon.
