Holes were cut into the floor to extract equipment from the basements. it was interesting to see the I-beams extending through all the levels of Studebaker.
Records of ore samples, mostly ruined by the water flowing into the space.
A snapshot of the most preserved classroom in the orphanage.
A strange arcade machine in the basement.
A score keeping chalkboard underground in the armory’s firing range.
Lined concrete vats in the basement of the asylum for fermenting pickles, presumable because the brine-vinegar solution was too harsh in a time before stainless steel.
Smashed TVs and stone foundations in a former common room in the basement.
The basements of the barracks were often stone and brick, and many of them were connected by short tunnels.
Gloves hang in the basement of the former quality assurance labs.
Beds line a basement room that is part way between the concepts of inside and outside. Boards and bricks were falling while I was photographing it—stay out.
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.
Looking down range. You can tell where most of the rounds hit by the dark marks in the wall.
One basement room has a pile of x-rays of miners, taken and stored by the company.
Days after the long-flooded basement was pumped out. Note the water lines!
Looking into the tunnel system from below the Women’s Ward. The tunnels were used mostly by staff to move food and laundry.
The basement of the asylum was a strange place. Take, this fireplace, for instance, in an otherwise barren room. Random cinderblock (left) has created a little room behind the fireplace. To round out the strangeness, a toilet was plumbed into the middle of the space. Note the stone foundations.
A light-painted portrait of one of the few remaining carts that moved everything from fresh eggs to soiled laundry through the tunnels.
Below the factory floor is a network of hallways and tunnels, all flooded with water.