Peeling paint reveals the room numbers of the past.
The shaft house, where hydraulic steel doors allowed or denied entry into the mine shaft. Overhead is a light and alarm. If it sounds, the mine is being evacuated, and you best not go in and best stay the hell out of the way. Locals dump tires here, now.
Peeling paint reveals the room numbers of the past. Kodak Trix-400 on Canon T40.
An ajar car elevator car afar, technically.
Off the beaten path is this old LTV sign. Now it points to a ghost town and dead dock.
An old sign directed patients and visitors back to toward the central parts of the hospital.
Beside the shaft building are two fans on skids, indicating they were used underground.
One level below where the cotton was nitrated, the fumes must have been powerful. This floor had several massive ventilation fans in its walls.
All of the fire alarms had been triggered.
“This way,” then, “No, that way!”
The tunnels were full of bricked-up doorways. I wonder how many rooms under there are totally sealed from the outside world…
In the nitrating house.
In the steam plant, steam pipes bundled in canvas and asbestos criss-cross the walls.