Old parts catalogs litter the floor. The office overlooks empty shelves. Graffiti glue peeling paint in place.
The complex was so big that trains could make deliveries through the middle of it, passing below this striped skyway.
Part of an ongoing series on found American flags in shuttered factories.
I am not sure, but I think this section was a storehouse; it has two ramps that connect the rail yard outside and the blacksmith shop. On all of the historic doors that face that part of the yard, signs caution workers to look out for cars…
The gulls wait to eat the next load of spilled grain. Arista 100.
A row of houses north of Pommenige.
The old men’s ward is an example of what the hospital resembled before part of the complex was modernized. Small rooms, light switches outside the door, small observation windows set into heavy wood. If you ask me, though, the tile work across the floors is the most spectacular.
One of the last times I saw the skyway standing. ADM’s Meal Elevator is in the distance.
No matter what environmental disasters industry throws at Mother Earth, she will bounce back.