A late-night visit to a famous filming location ended in tragedy in DeKalb County, and FOX 5 Atlanta reporter Kevyn Stewart says police are still working to pin down exactly how it happened.
Stewart reported from Emory University’s Briarcliff property, where a fenced-off, long-vacant building known to many fans as “Hawkins Lab” from Netflix’s Stranger Things became the backdrop to a fatal fall.
Then, in a follow-up report, FOX 5 Atlanta reporter Annie Mapp spoke with the teen’s father, who is now pleading with other young people to stay out of abandoned buildings – because, as he put it, the risk is real, and the consequences don’t rewind like a TV show.
A Late-Night Visit Turns Fatal
Stewart says police believe the young woman was exploring the building with friends when she fell. He reported that the building behind him was “cordoned off” and had “been abandoned for some time,” yet people still find ways to get close.
In Stewart’s telling, this wasn’t framed as a stunt or a dare. It sounded like something that happens all the time in the social media era: someone sees a place they recognize, and curiosity takes over.
Stewart reported the teen who died was 19-year-old Leah Palmirotto. He said she fell to her death early Friday morning, and authorities were trying to learn how she ended up on a part of the building where a fall became possible.
In the background of Stewart’s live shot, there’s an uncomfortable reality: abandoned buildings don’t “turn off” just because they’re empty. They stay dangerous, and in some ways they get worse with time.
Stewart also captured the reaction of tourists who had come to see the spot because of the show. One visitor told Stewart they’d heard the building might be demolished, but didn’t realize what had happened there.
The shock in that reaction is the same shock a lot of people probably felt hearing the story. The idea that a recognizable pop-culture landmark could also be the scene of a death feels like two different worlds crashing together.
Why This Building Draws People In
Stewart described the site as a popular location not only for Stranger Things fans, but also for photographers and “urban explorers” who like taking photos of “dystopian-like ruins.” That’s a big part of why this property stays on people’s radar even after it’s been shut down.
There’s a pull to places like this – especially for younger people who want a dramatic backdrop, a unique shot, or just the thrill of standing where something famous was filmed. But real-life abandoned buildings don’t come with a stunt coordinator, a safety team, or a “cut” button.
Stewart explained the building’s long history. He said it served as a mental health facility at one point, and that Emory used it for different academic purposes after acquiring the property in 1998.
Stewart also reported the building has been vacant since 2024. That detail matters, because empty structures often deteriorate quickly—stairs loosen, floors rot, railings fail, and lighting disappears.
Stewart said the plan for the wider property involved a private firm developing and operating a senior living community. In other words, this wasn’t just a forgotten ruin; it was part of a site in transition.
And Stewart described it as a massive area—42 acres—with demolition underway. A place that big can be hard to fully lock down, even if the intent is to keep the public out.
During his report, Stewart also raised the obvious question: was there security overnight? He said it was unclear.
That uncertainty is important because it points to the gap between “posted signs and fences” and what actually stops a determined person. A fence can be a barrier, but it can also be a challenge for someone who sees it as a test.
A Father’s Warning After The Knock At The Door
A few days later, Annie Mapp reported from the same property, and the tone shifted from shock to grief.
Mapp said security was now guarding the site. Seeing guards after the fact is always a gut punch, because it quietly admits what everyone is thinking: if this had been tighter earlier, maybe a family wouldn’t be planning a funeral.
Mapp spoke with Leah’s father, Todd Palmirotto Jr., and she described Leah as a “true adventurer” who was known for “lighting up any room.” He told Mapp, simply, “She was perfect.”
That line hits hard because it isn’t polished. It’s the kind of sentence a parent says when the loss is too big for complicated words.
Mapp reported that Todd Palmirotto Jr. said officers came to his door with the news. He told her, “I was blown away. I just wasn’t sure.”
There’s something brutal about that moment—the world splitting into a “before” and an “after” because of a knock at the door. And it’s a reminder that tragedies like this don’t stay at the site; they travel home with police lights and a conversation nobody is ready to have.
Mapp also reported police believe Leah was with friends when she fell from the five-story building. Her father told Mapp he believed she may have visited the site more than once.
That detail matters because it shows how normal this can start to feel. The first visit becomes a story. The second becomes “we’ve done this.” And that’s when risk can start to feel smaller than it really is.
Todd Palmirotto Jr. told Mapp he wanted people to understand that exploring abandoned places is dangerous, especially when you’re with people you “really don’t know.” He said it was something that was “always” in the back of their minds—that something could happen.
That warning doesn’t sound like a lecture. It sounds like regret.
And then there’s the part that no parent should ever have to say out loud. Mapp reported Todd Palmirotto Jr. said he was praying for one thing: “I’m just hoping it was instant. I just hope she felt no pain.”
There isn’t an “uplifting” way to process that sentence. It’s just the raw truth of grief trying to find one small mercy.
What Police Say They’re Still Sorting Out
Both Stewart and Mapp stressed the same point: police are still investigating what led to the fall.
Stewart reported authorities were trying to learn “how and why this happened.” Mapp echoed that investigators were still working to determine what led to Leah’s fatal fall.
When a case involves trespassing and a fall from a height, there are usually a lot of unanswered questions – where the group entered, what areas they reached, whether there were hazards like missing rails or damaged floors, and what exactly happened in the moment before she fell.
Stewart reported Emory released a statement saying that while there are “no trespassing” signs, the university was enhancing security at the site. That response is typical after a tragedy, but it also shows the school knows the property draws attention.
Stewart also captured reactions from people nearby who didn’t want to go closer once they learned what happened. One person told him they were “happy just staying right here and looking at it from afar,” adding, “I don’t need to get any closer.”
That’s probably the smartest line in either report. You can acknowledge a place, look at it, even take a photo from a safe distance – and still choose not to cross the line into danger.
Another person told Stewart something that’s hard to argue with: “If someone wants in, they’re gonna get in no matter what.”
That might be true in a basic sense, but it’s also where prevention lives. Most people aren’t unstoppable. Most people are persuadable. Most people will turn around if the barrier feels real enough, visible enough, and serious enough.
The Bigger Lesson About “Urban Exploring”
Stewart called the death “unfortunate,” and the word almost feels too small. A young woman is gone, and the people who loved her are now living in that permanent “missing seat at the table” reality.
Mapp’s reporting puts a human face on what can otherwise feel like a headline about trespassing. Leah wasn’t a character in a show. She was a daughter, and her father’s words make that impossible to ignore.
It’s also worth saying plainly: abandoned buildings are not playgrounds, even if they look like movie sets. The danger isn’t just “falling.” It’s unstable floors, broken stairs, exposed metal, dark corners, and the simple fact that if something goes wrong at 1 a.m., help may not arrive fast enough.
There’s another truth, too, and it’s not comfortable. Sites tied to famous films and shows become magnets, and magnets pull people who don’t always understand the risk.
Stewart’s report explained why the building is so well known – because of Stranger Things, and because it’s been used in other productions as well. That fame can make the building feel like a tourist stop instead of what it really is: a closed, decaying structure with real consequences.
And Todd Palmirotto Jr.’s message, as Mapp reported it, is the one that deserves to stick: don’t go in. Don’t assume it will be fine because someone else did it last week. Don’t confuse a recognizable location with a safe one.
Because for Leah Palmirotto, one night of exploring became the last night of her life – and now, a father is left hoping the only comfort available: that it was quick, and that she didn’t suffer.
A former park ranger and wildlife conservationist, Lisa’s passion for survival started with her deep connection to nature. Raised on a small farm in northern Wisconsin, she learned how to grow her own food, raise livestock, and live off the land. Lisa is our dedicated Second Amendment news writer and also focuses on homesteading, natural remedies, and survival strategies. Lisa aims to help others live more sustainably and prepare for the unexpected.
