A rare look into one of the last wooden grain elevators in the country, Globe. Along the waterfront in in Superior, Wisconsin, industrial technology spans almost the whole 20th century. If you enjoy history, lakeside skylines or just impressive carpentry…
At its peak, Port Arthur and Fort William was home to more than 30 elevators once. Some of them remain, but many are abandoned.
Minneapolis was Mill City; flour mills and linseed mills dotted the landscape, and not just along the Mississippi River. To support the world’s biggest flour and linseed companies, a huge network of grain elevators were built by various interests just outside of the east bank’s industrial districts. I investigate these elevators and the factories immediately around them one by one. Welcome to Mill Hell.
In Duluth, 28 terminal elevators dominated the harbor. Some exploded, some burned, some were demolished, and a few remain. This is a close look at the last 125 years of grain trade architecture in the city.
This building seemed a bit too eager to murder me, but it was too late to turn back. Built with inadequate materials, due to WWI material shortages, and built in a hurry, due to its sister plant burning to the ground, every day this building still stands flouts time, nature, and gravity.
This 1931 barge loader irked the City of St. Paul for decades–it literally sits over the Mississippi River, making it troublesome to demolish. It turns out that this concrete tower lasted just long enough to get redeveloped. See how, and learn the whole story.
Named after the ‘baker King’ and endorsed by a Duke, this elevator has led a charmed existence on the banks of the Kam. Between almost sliding into the river and being set on fire by teenagers, it’s amazing that it still remains. Here’s an article to show our appreciation, with guest co-author Ava.
Sentinel grain elevators watch over the Manitoba prairie: its ghost towns, its defunct flour mills, and its endless fields.
If there was something I didn’t think I needed more of in my life, it was grain elevators. After growing up a midwest explorer in a place with the nickname ‘Mill City’, I was tired of these concrete towers; I thought I had seen it all. Santa Fe taught me exactly how wrong I was. Climb with me 120 feet above Chicago and see why…
Built in 1923 as a major terminal elevator, it would go on to have booms and busts. By ‘boom’, I mean, it had the nasty habit of exploding.
It’s an industrial lighthouse keeping watch over the Mississippi and its favorite city. Some read the flashing neon as “GOLD MEDAL FLOUR”. I read “REMEMBER”.