From a distance (here, Union Yards), you can still see ARMOUR spelled out on the smokestack in white brick.
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The taller of the two smokestacks on site. Note the crack around its crown.
Carvings on the back of a barracks building.
Between the gauges for the power plant boilers and the steam pump flywheels.
Two versions of Detroit. One where buildings stand tall and proud, and one where they wilt under the sun. It’s an amazing juxtaposition.
My first night on Minneapolis’ Lighthouse–now an old picture and distant memory… I still remember the exhilaration and the view of the city off one edge of the roof and the Mississippi River over the other.
Ladders crawl the back of the signs. Graffiti writers’ right of passage.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
Sunset came fast, and when the good light died inside the Industrial Loft, I walked around the back to find the whole complex glowing.
The Sivertson’s sign seems like from a different time. I’ve never seen it lit, but I bet it’s beautiful.