A series of interconnected offices that look like they hadn’t been painted in 40 years.
The roof was in bad shape, but too beautiful to avoid. This is the spot were I used to study medieval Latin.
A me-sized hole in the half-demolished skyway looks about a story down to the ground. Step lightly. Arista 100.
The bottom of the elevator which seemed too modern for the building. The top of the elevator opens into open air, as the second floor has long since collapsed.
The beet juice was boiled down to make a syrup, which would be drained down the trough to the crystalizers.
A panorama of the Shipping/Receiving building on the northeast end of the block. In the old days this would be facing the ‘Dry Dock Hotel’, a boarding house owned by the company, presumably for the use of the men having their boats repaired here.
One chute drops grain on a conveyor for storage in the north silo cluster, while another is ready to deposit the flow where the conveyor cannot reach. Instead of engineering the belt to trip in reverse, the silos under the workhouses have their own chutes.
The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.