The end of the dock, done quickly and cheaply with wood. The towers were for lights, so ships could be loaded at all hours.
The lower door is where the rocket exhaust would flow into the blast pit during initial launch. The upper doors would vent the rocket so the erector and other equipment in the building would not be (as) damaged.
Shadows of the timberwork and cribbing are cast across cracked lake ice. My footprints follow cat tracks.
The roof was in bad shape, but too beautiful to avoid. This is the spot were I used to study medieval Latin.
A switch for the yard engines, now on the edge of the property where nobody will find it.
Reflections of graffiti during spring melt.
One of my favorite shots from that year, conveyor line parts stacked and hung with Postal Service bins from decades ago.
When I first saw Ogilvie’s from the ground, I promised myself to look back when i found my way into this little pitched outcropping which seemed to have the best view of Thunder Bay I could imagine. It turns out, though, that there is no floor in that section; it is just extended machine access! Oh well. Mount McKay in the background in the last light.
Ask your dentist about brushing your teeth with asbestos!