Part of the grain dust venting system, dislodged from its place above the dumping hatches under the grain cribs.
As if they were planning to move the furniture out of the hospital, it all sits in the main hallway in the ground floor.
From the 1909 addition, it’s obvious how much water it takes to carry a single wall to, into and through the cracks between the floor tiles: exactly one roof’s worth.
The nurse’s station on this floor, a ward still in its original design, featured a half-door where patients could get their medicine. Portra 160.
This was one of two skyways that went between production line offices. It’s easy to tell because it’s not reinforced for machinery to travel through it. I also like that it’s a double-decker, so to speak.
Looking through a secure ward door at the destroyed rooms beyond.
Looking from the brewhouse at the death of its sister building, across Minnehaha.
Not ghosts. Slow-moving explorers’ shadows create a ghostly effect in the ‘Old Ward’–the second floor of the Service Building.
The nitrating house was a chemically dangerous place, so it had thick metal and concrete shield for every station right next to an emergency shower.