It seems someone planned on stealing the fridge, but gave up on the second floor.
A reminder to the manlift riders to get off the belt before they hit their heads on the ceiling. This is the top level of the headhouse, where dust collectors would extract most of the grain bits from the air to reduce risk of explosion.
The great stenciled number on this chute caught my eye.
From an unsteady perch atop the blast furnace, the morning light began to leach into the complex below.
The aft lifeboat survived auction, although now all it holds is an emergency ladder to help men who’ve fallen overboard get on deck.
The top of the docks are so rotten in places that you can see the lake through the boards. In the foreground you can see the controls for the chutes, which work on a clutch.
One of the oldest buildings had a wide central staircase with well worn steps. They were utilitarian and beautiful.
Chicago looks in as we look out, for holes and trolls where anything goes.
Looking across a skyway at the dust-collecting funnels, one of the few pieces of equipment that haven’t been completely decimated by time and the elements.