If you look closely, you can see the rain dropping into the building. This is the part of the chapel with the collapsed roof–not the carvings on the choir loft.
A gate large enough to accommodate a missile, next to the ruins of the guard shack. Wyoming is the intersection of lonely and beautiful.
The mill itself is one giant room sectioned into levels–more catwalks than concrete. Here you can see the evaporators and have a sense for the miles and miles of pipes that zigzag through the plant.
I found out some of my friends were going to be married while I was on top of Gold Medal one evening while it was snowing.
The head distiller could walk out of their office to this balcony and overlook the whole fermentation process in a glance.
Chester Creek’s lower sections change, demarking decades of change for Superior Street.
This seems to be the space where upholstery patterns would be drafted. On the table were half-finished notes on a new design.
That floor isn’t dirt–it’s old rotting grain that’s formed into a sort of moldy mud.
This electric Wellman crane was added to extract coal from ships for the power plant that Erie built beside their dock. Now, with the advent of self-unloading boats, it’s been replaced by a funnel and conveyor belt.