Looking past the Osborn along the side of the Hughitt Slip, where there have always been grain elevators for more than 100 years.
The house across from the Harris offices were decorated in a unique way.
A staircase leads behind three of the dock chutes, seemingly to nowhere. The lower on the left held one end of a string of lights above the dock.
The small door leads to the offices, the large door leads to the shop. My back at this time is to the corrugated steel wall. At the time I wondered why there was just one steel wall, not knowing that 40 years before there was another spot for an engine here. This section of the roundhouse has become a sort of town dump–car seats, cans of paint and tires are piled into its corners.
Vines are finding their way into the roundhouse.
On deck, looking at the door to the engine room.
Looking at the ghost sign from a rust-locked cement conveyor that linked the silos with a packing warehouse.
A sign facing the city on an exterior wall–a sort of motivational poster.