Buchanan was a company town unwilling to grow with its company. Then, after almost 100 years, that company left. How a rust belt city put on–then taken off–the proverbial map. Michigan edition.
Clyde Iron Works made the highest capacity cranes in the world in Duluth, decades after the industrial town got rusty. Then, a few years ago most of the complex was demolished to make room for a hockey rink. The machine shop is now a bar and grill.
This Duisburg sintering plant is world famous as an industrial ruin; I couldn’t pass it by.
Where I come from, the word “warehouse” is usually preceded by “just another,” but Detroit is a place where you can find anything, even the status quo, neglected on a street corner…
On your left you see Dock 6, retrofitted with conveyor belts, swarming with hard men and cold trains, bathed in orange light and smelling of taconite, oil, and sweat. On the right is a stripped, dark, empty, motionless chunk of steel jutting into Lake Superior, an island in so many ways. Read on to find out where the good days went.
Climbing that ladder let me see through the steam, by the orange light of the sunset dumping through the sooted skylights like the shop lights on the dead crane. It had been a while since it lifted a locomotive off its chasis, but the smell of grease was still strong enough to lubricate my sinuses
The underground history of some of Duluth’s most notable sewers, drains, and substreet creeks.
What do steam engines, Henry Ford, and shipbuilding have in common? Sure, Detroit, but let’s be specific–I give you the Dry Dock Engine Works, a Detroit relic about to go through yet another overhaul…
In nineteen-oh-nine when the winds blew colder,
Nine-hundred and twenty feet long…
In mid-1880s, a few men began tunneling under downtown Duluth looking for a fortune. Now there’s no trace of their labor under the Point of Rocks, is there?
It started as a rumor, then I heard it over and over–there was an abandoned train tunnel outside Duluth.