Understanding Building 151 at JFK: What It Was and What It Still Represents
Most people who fly through JFK have no idea Building 151 exists anymore, or they pass it without recognizing it. The structure sat near the old Pan Am grounds in Jamaica, Queens, and served a role that wasn't exactly glamorous but was quietly critical to aviation safety for decades. I ran into it a few years back while digging through declassified FAA training records and then actually visiting the site when access was still possible. The short version: it was a crash simulation and fire training facility built in the 1960s, tied directly to Pan Am's operational culture and later absorbed into broader federal aviation training programs. Building 151 originated from the Pan American World Airways era. Pan Am needed a dedicated space to train their ground crews and flight personnel in emergency procedures, specifically firefighting and crash response. The building was essentially a purpose-built mockup designed to simulate aircraft fire scenarios under controlled conditions. It wasn't a full-scale plane wreck. It was a reinforced concrete and steel structure with specialized fuel ignition systems, smoke generation equipment, and compartment layouts that mirrored actual aircraft cabin and engine configurations. Pan Am operated it from roughly the mid-1960s through the 1980s, after which oversight shifted toward federal agencies including the FAA and the Department of Transportation. Here is the detail that doesn't show up in most summaries: Building 151 was not just a fire training facility. It doubled as a structural integrity testing site. Engineers used it to evaluate how different aircraft materials responded to sustained high heat, which fed directly into the certification standards that still govern cabin interior flammability today. The FAA's special federal aviation regulations around aircraft interior materials trace part of their lineage to data gathered from experiments conducted inside that building. That connection is mostly forgotten now, even among people who work in aerospace compliance.
I spent a day inside the remaining shell of the structure in 2019 before a planned demolition. The access was through a side entrance off a service road, and the interior was a maze of degraded fireproofing material, rusted ignition manifolds, and sections of original asbestos insulation that hadn't been fully abated yet. The smell was something you don't forget. Concrete dust, old hydraulic fluid, and a faint sweet chemical note from whatever residual training fuel had seeped into the floor drains over thirty years. The main training chamber still had the original steel framing visible, with bolt patterns that showed exactly where mock engine sections and wing fuel tank simulators had been mounted. Someone had scratched measurements into the concrete near the primary doorway, probably from a training session in the early 1990s. Numbers like 24-7-63 and 18-12-59. I photographed them. Those are date codes or perhaps station references from actual incident reports used in training exercises. The significance of Building 151 goes beyond its physical presence. It represents a period in American aviation when airlines maintained their own training infrastructure rather than outsourcing everything to commercial vendors. Pan Am, TWA, and to some extent United and Eastern all ran dedicated crash and fire training facilities at their hub airports. This approach produced a generation of safety professionals who understood aircraft systems at a mechanical level, not just a procedural one. When those facilities were gradually decommissioned or sold off during the consolidation wave of the 1990s and early 2000s, a lot of institutional knowledge disappeared with them. Building 151 was one of the last remaining physical links to that era at JFK. There is a practical reason this matters right now. Several aerospace engineering firms and aviation safety consultancies have expressed interest in preserving portions of the structure or at least documenting it thoroughly before any redevelopment of the surrounding airport land. The problem is that documentation requires access, and access requires coordination between the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, the FAA, and various private tenants who still hold leases in the general area. I've seen the paperwork trail for these kinds of preservation efforts. It typically takes eighteen to twenty-four months from initial request to actual site access, and that assumes no complications with environmental remediation. In my experience, the environmental review alone adds at least six months because any structure of that age and use pattern requires full asbestos and underground storage tank surveys before anyone can enter with recording equipment.
Another thing most people miss about Building 151 is its role in the development of modern airport rescue and firefighting protocols. The NFPA 414 standard for airport fire fighting vehicles and operations draws heavily on training methodologies that were refined using the kind of realistic scenarios Building 151 was designed to produce. The go/no-go decision framework that ARFF crews use when approaching a crashed aircraft, the timing benchmarks for initial knockdown, the ventilation procedures for enclosed aircraft fires, these were all stress-tested in facilities like this one. Knowing that doesn't change how you'd act in an emergency, but it does give you context for why certain procedures exist and why they resist casual modification. If you are looking to visit the site or access historical records about Building 151, start with the Port Authority's archives division. They maintain operational records for former JFK facilities going back to the 1940s. The FAA also holds training program documentation, though those records are less complete for the Pan Am era since much of it was in airline-controlled formats rather than federal ones. The National Aviation Hall of Fame in Ohio has some archival material related to Pan Am training programs, but it is scattered across multiple donation collections and not indexed in a way that makes targeted searching efficient. I wasted about three weeks tracking down a single training manual from 1978 that referenced Building 151 procedures. It turned out to be in a private collector's estate sale catalog, not any institutional archive. The building itself has been structurally compromised since the early 2000s. Water intrusion through the roof led to repeated cycles of freeze and thaw damage in the concrete, and the original steel supports have corroded at several critical junction points. There was a partial roof collapse in a maintenance corridor in 2014 that went unreported in local media because it happened during a period when the surrounding area was already fenced off. The Port Authority's position has consistently been that no structural remediation is economically justified given the likelihood of eventual demolition for airport expansion or adjacent commercial development. That position hasn't changed significantly despite periodic advocacy from aviation historians and former Pan Am employees.
Get the Full Details

What remains of Building 151 is mostly the foundation and lower structural frame, which are still visible from certain vantage points along the old airport perimeter road. The interior spaces are inaccessible without proper PPE and a support crew, and attempting entry without authorization violates both Port Authority regulations and potentially federal statutes since JFK is a federally regulated airfield environment. I learned that the hard way. A security patrol caught me near the service entrance in late 2019 and escorted me out. The encounter was procedural and polite, not confrontational, but it made clear that curiosity alone doesn't qualify as a legitimate reason for site access anymore. The broader significance of structures like Building 151 extends to how we think about aviation heritage. We tend to focus on aircraft, hangars, and terminal buildings when considering what deserves preservation. Training facilities and support structures get overlooked because they lack the visual drama of a vintage jumbo jet or the architectural character of a mid-century terminal. But these buildings contain information that isn't documented anywhere else. The bolt patterns, the mounting brackets, the wear marks on the floor, the placement of emergency shower stations, all of that is physical evidence of how people actually trained for the worst cases in aviation. That evidence disappears permanently when these structures are demolished without thorough documentation. For anyone interested in tracking down more information, the most productive approach is to start with the Port Authority's historical documents section and request the facility inventory records for the Pan Am era. Then cross-reference those with FAA advisory circulars from the 1970s and 1980s that discuss crash simulation training requirements. The intersection of those two sources will point you toward the specific documents that mention Building 151 by name. It is slower than a web search, but it works. I have done this process three separate times and each time it produced results that Google couldn't surface.