One of the clusters of elevators. Doors would open on both sides so that vehicles could be moved through them if necessary. There is only one set of stairs in the whole building.
The texture of the cracking poured concrete ore pocket is somewhere between stone and driftwood.
The zebras had the right idea when they saw the pink beds–run.
An original, minimally remodeled bathroom above the cafeteria reminds us what the whole complex once looked like.
Cracked gauges have a certain quality that hearkens to movies, I think. One can imagine the gauges going off the scales before dramatically cracking, throwing glass right at the camera. This damage, however, is unfortunate vandalism.
The old crane swung on windier days over the Worthington Steam Pump. This is probably last used to disassemble the antique generators, which are all now gone.
The pigeons and raccoons have no use for these, so they will sit empty until snow or fire removes them by force.
Circa-1960s graffiti. Someone got their ass kicked.
The working end of the blast furnace, where molten metal would flow like lava out of the furnace… a process called ‘tapping’.