The last batch of molded metal stuck in the chute, this metallurgical furnace was falling apart brick by disintegrating brick b the time I got to it. On the upper floors there is a sophisticated network of vents and chimneys to make these little furnaces as hot as possible.
Looking through the trestle toward the ghost town.
Standing next to the now-demolished records room.
The license plate reads “Farm Truck”.
Numbers on a pillar counted tank capacity for a removed water container; an unhinged door in an unhinged factory beguiles those looking for an exit.
A pink room with very heavy doors that reminds me of the rooms at some of the insane asylums that I’ve explored.
A comrade lights-up where so many workers apparently congregated to do the same.
One of a few rolling workbenches to keep the thousands of pulleys, cogs, and belts working properly.
On the other side of the hole through this wall was a printout with the Kool Aid Man on it.