Camera: Voigtlander Bessa
Film: Acros 100
Camera: Voigtlander Bessa
Camera: Voigtlander Bessa
Film: Acros 100
The huge snowfalls of 2011 brought new collapses across the buildings.
Giant ingredient hoppers stand on a concrete floor covered in peeled paint.
Tarpaper telling time-
Wood wittling weather-
Rust rot ruins.
A bridge crosses the main street of the village; one that goes nowhere. Ambiguity intended.
Frankie on the White Pine Mine vehicle access shaft. The mine was traditional inside… all room-and-pillar.
Inside this small iron clad mine is a couch and some clothes. It seems that for a short while, someone was living inside of it…
A machine to cast copper billets.
Kodak Tri-X 400/Leica M7. The office (first floor), laboratory (second floor) and mill behind it. Everything was clean and pristine.
The front of the power plant (right), the distillery itself (center), and the regaling house (left).
Between the room with mold sand and the space where the car’s metal bits would be put together, a pillar is marked as structurally vital.
The former BESCO building in the last light of day.
The steam plant could be vertically traversed with this one-man belt driven elevator.
One of my favorite photos of the ADM-Delmar #1 skyway, when it stood. Taken at sunset, with the reflection of the overcast sky in the remaining windows.
In the brewhouse between the preheating tank and kettle room. The spiral staircase goes into a kettle annex where a few smaller stainless steel kettles hide. If you looked right from this frame you would see the bottom of one of the kettles like the bottom of a steel mixing bowl.
A little cloud passes over the Five-Stack powerplant ruins, like a puff of smoke.
This “pit” would allow workers to crawl below locomotives to service them.
These Twin Cities kisses
Sound like clicks and hisses.
We all tumbled down and
Drowned in the Mississippi River. -The Hold Steady
A sign of where man met machine.
From inside a painting shed, where heatlamps and a vented roof made sure that the Caddy looked like it was worth the price tag.
Go on and jump in, if you want, there’s even a ladder to climb out.
Wind-battered catwalk lights between the shaft house and headframe/rockhouse building.
The steam-powered hoist that pulled ore and dropped men from the mine. Note the hydraulic-operated brake on top with its massive brake pad. Now scrapped.
Rivets are sexy, and this old machine has more than a fair share.
Miners at the turn of the century had better taste in typography than the average person does today.
The power pulley that ran air compressors straight off of the steam plant’s axel.
Looking through skylights of the payroll office toward the Cheratte No.1’s tower. This is where workers would wait in line to receive pay, surrounded by the mine workings.
Almost all of the doors and windows on the ground floor have been boarded, leaving the ground level very dark.
Looking up from the industrial courtyard.
Scrappers tried to take this steel pulley out of Fisher, but it proved too heavy.
This peak is a little over 7,000 feet high and is a popular hiking spot. As a bulky Minnesotan who is better built for an arctic expedition, I stuck to the mesa.
A heavy steel rail door to help funnel explosions upward, rather than outward.
The newer tunnels were fitted with these fluorescent lights, although some skylights (block glass embedded in skywalks) let in some natural light during the day.
A teeter totter sits in front of the Memorial Building.
A small upper level was accessible via ladder through the hole in this ceiling. Ben for scale.
Robotic pincers to move molten rods of glass between machines.
Park Insurance Agency is no longer in business, nor would you be able to dial that phone number.
Generations of Two Harbors teens smoked their first weed in this abandoned building, in my estimation. Comment if I’m right!
One of the only extant assembly line tracks in the body painting department. No photographer leaves Fisher 21 without capturing some version of this spot; hope you like mine.
A wide view (15mm) of the shadow 4B is casting on 4A. Light leaks because of cheap camera.
This elevator was built in 1922 and was used until the passing rails were removed in the mid-1970s.
A storm passes over BOMARC’s center row of launch buildings. You can clearly see the tracks on which the roof would retract for launch.
Looking through a launcher doorway at an outbuilding… the fire truck garage, if I recall correctly. Fomapan medium format in Pentax 67.
This photo illustrates how vertical the complex is.
Fall in line, act skinny, watch out for low hanging pipes. Don’t ask me where in the maze this was… 90% of the plant looked like this; vast rooms and catwalks with crisscrossing pipes and valves.
While the stokers are gone, the pipes bringing pulverized coal down were left.
A shuttered house at the end of the block doesn’t even have boards on it anymore.
A bank of vertical filing cabinets, probably dating to National Guard days.
I love that the administration building–almost 100 years old now–still carries the original name.
Circa-1960s graffiti. Someone got their ass kicked.
Watching the comings and goings of doctors, nurses and new patients was a mainstay of asylum routine; one can find it easy to imagine pale faces pressed against the block glass windows, staring out at the world moving past them.
A custom ladder to cross conveyor belts on the work floor.
A hydraulic ‘bridge’ couple lower onto the tracks to bring mine cars into the shaft house, presumably for repair. I haven’t found this system anywhere else, but it makes a lot of sense.
A facade that tells the story of demolition and neglect. The sign on the garage door indicates that if one finds themselves there, that they enter the buildings at their own risk. If only property owners in the US took this philosophy!
It is unclear whether this area was for coal dumping or ore dumping, though the huge dents in the steel plating suggests the latter.
From the catwalks below the hoisting motor in Shaft No. 1.
A photo from the early 2000s before the conveyors were scrapped.
Rows of offices under the power plant, which was in the middle of being demolished during my adventure. Despite the snow, this was meant as an interior.
The only good shot I have of the top of Battery A, in the upper left. Though it seemed to have been disused before its neighbor it had a lot less growth on it.
Ringling, MT is spread thin across the grassy land.
Lost words over the auditorium entrance.
A steel powder keg serves as a door prop on the static-proof wood core floor. Note the ‘XXX’ marking to the left of the double door.
Aluminum spools replaced their wooden counterparts, later in the factory’s history.
In the distance, the San Haven Sanatorium water tower.
I wonder if these windows were bricked after the 1950 explosion with the hopes that, if another silos blew, the people in this office would be better protected.
These dump cars moved copper ore to the top of the furnaces… it’s about two stories above ground level.
Cauterized wounds on the factory floor, where the middle of the newer mill opens up to allow massive equipment. Now the pipes are cut and the equipment is gone.
I’ve been in a lot of different mines. Some on tours, some not. If you pass through Howardsville, Colorado without going on the Old Hundred Mine Tour, you’re missing out. This is what Santiago Tunnel looked like in the 1940s when it was near the end of its life.
In an old ward, two men would have shared this room.
This view of BCT shows the portico where the main entrance is at the base of the office tower, and the clock.
Since this picture was taken, the roof has totally collapsed in this area.
The piano must have been a nice distraction; there is very little to do in Roberts.
Looking out of the American diesel crane at the gantry crane that ran the length of the dock.
Chester Creek Infall, near Duluth’s old Armory. The creek will not emerge again until it is near the Lakewalk.
A few of the stalls in the older section of the roundhouse, the noon sky peeking in.
Looking toward a void–formerly a hallway to the mineshaft–now a hole in the ground.
The top floor of the Meal Storage Elevator.
The BOMARC launch buildings are spaced on a large concrete pad that looks like a parking lot. Out of view are underground pipes for fueling and cooling the rocket motors.
Catwalk crating, welded over the yard crane operator cab’s windows.
When the ship loaders were added, a doorway was cut through the metal silo to make a room for the grain handling equipment. Note the dust sensor in the corner of the torch-cut archway.
The building behind Daisy was demolished, leaving these tanks and a pointless conveyorway. Now it’s bricked (see over door near right corner of mill) and the tanks are exposed to the elements. There are a few holes in the area that have a healthy drop, so you should avoid the area.
Imagine the voice of an entitled White suburban mother. She’s now talking about oral hygiene in the “urban” (Black) schools.
The superstructure for the sea-leg skyways serves no purpose now… the offices are bricked up, too. Why?
The Sun Rooms, or Common Rooms, reminded me of the Panopitcon turned inside-out.
The tower of Dominion certainly dominates the elevator row.
I like to imagine this as fountain.
Little crosses on the side of the church, near a broken window.
One of my favorite shots from that year, conveyor line parts stacked and hung with Postal Service bins from decades ago.
I wonder if these handcarts will become decoration for the hotel being building next to the silos.
This seemed to be the newest building on the property.
Part of the decommissioned plant was used by the Air Force for virtual bombing runs. This is the guard shack for the radar station.
Not a part of the Foundry, but the Enclosed Body Building. The rebar welded over the windows and the rust patterns with the lighting makes this geometric photos one of my favorites from the year.
Part of the plant has been reused as a scrap metal yard.
The King Elevator is connected by a manlift and this spiral staircase. The manlift was down–can you believe it? Note the cool turns in the vertical railings. Arista 100 on 120.
Looking from the shaft room into the room where an electric hoist would be.
Looking toward the power station at the edge of the explosives plant.
An orphan culvert and camper, both tossed aside where nobody that will see will care.
Looking out of the boarded windows in the Great Western Sugar office.
A jankey ladder leads to a platform over a wooden tank. Here’s hoping my usage contributes to jankey being accepted into the dictionary! Thanks, lexicographers.
Shells of mixing buildings.
Bits of pulp hang from a rough grate on the first floor of the plant, which was dark because all of the equipment blocked the light. This is a grate picture.
The top floor of the Dominion Elevator. Acros 100 on 120.
The sexiest feature of Kurth is this steel arch over the silos on its south side. The manholes in the floor open to the silos directly, and flimsy grates might catch a hurried worker. Grates were removable so that workers could descend into the concrete tubes, so a few are missing today.
In the quality assurance labs there is a old safe.
Outbuildings near the perimeter fence. Beyond is all ranch land.
Kodak Tri-X 400, Leica M7. Serious enough to write across the side of the tank, but not serious enough to have a sign made.
A truck loading dock for raw materials. Looking at the concrete, you can sort of tell where the rails used to run.
A back-lit tree with the silhouette of a roof spire in the background.
David Aho, the owner of Mitchell Engine House, poses beside the boiler.
The incinerator’s hardened steel door… useless, but still sexy in a heavy-industrial kind of way.
Zachary Taylor’s very own Scottish castle, spring-side in the Kentucky backcountry. Boarded and waiting, but in surprisingly good condition, considering the decades. I especially love the tower on the right side of the frame.
A windmill marks one corner of GOW.
2005. This is very likely the oldest image I have on the website; I took this in the early 2000s with my first camera when I was new to the hobby. I still like it quite a lot.
Chester Creek takes many such sliding dives where it empties into Lake Superior.
This building seemed like a pump house or compressor house. It was full of empty concrete mounts.
A classroom, perhaps from the days when the city owned the building.
In a now-demolished building, a skylight begins to separate.
Panorama from where the skyway connected the cleaning house and elevator. ADM Meal Storage is to the right, ADM-4 is to the extreme right, and Kurth is on the left.
Between two brick buildings is a metal one with many windows set into it. Having been in many mills of similar design, I conjecture that this was the milling building, where machines ground the corn before it was boiled.
A 5-minute exposure of the tunnel and stars, and even some of Duluth’s city lights bouncing off the clouds. A single off-camera flash in the tunnel gives the effect of an oncoming train.
My first night on Minneapolis’ Lighthouse–now an old picture and distant memory… I still remember the exhilaration and the view of the city off one edge of the roof and the Mississippi River over the other.
A winding flue between the ovens for Furnace 6, capped with sketchy catwalks.
Standing where the Standard Oil’s boiler used to sit; the coal room is on the right, and would have been filled from trackside.
Although it’s difficult to spot at first, there is a traveling mini crane down the way about the three windows. This was installed to service all of the fabrication machines that would be in this section.
A typical Chateau wall. Kodak Tri-X 400 in Leica M7.
The top floor of the condemned Russell Miller mill “B”, which would have housed sets of powerful electric motors to power the plant’s dust collectors and grain purifiers.
To get more light into the wards, the building was narrow and had angular rooms, often staff space, perpendicular to the main hallway.
Don’t know what’s heavier… the bricks or shadows.
A corner of the addition is lined with glass cabinets, formerly filled with beds.
There are 700 of these storage bunkers. Their design was to funnel explosions upward, rather than toward other buildings, to minimize secondary explosions.
Ava between ammo warehouses and railroads.
The fences helped discourage patients from throwing themselves down the stairs.
Near the base of the mesa is a modern house, which seems to be a ranch of some sort. What a fantastic spot to live, but for the fact every rainstorm floods the arryos, muddy ditches at the bottom of gullies, making it impossible to travel.
A cottage for masons infected with TB to live together.
The people that stayed here carved bowls from the mesa itself to collect water.
A look straight down into the chutes were taconite pellets would dump into the dock hoppers. Rebar was a safety measure to keep workers from being buried alive, were they to slip into the holes.
Looking at the headframe for Shaft 3 from the tower for Shaft 1. Below is the roof of the Dry House. It was hard to remind myself that these building have been abandoned longer than I’ve been alive.
A view of the government presses, with pages of law across the floor covered in footprints.
This building had no identity issues. My chief regret was not spending more time documenting the ghost signs around the complex.
A massive water tower easily tucks into the shadow of Blast Furnace #6.
The sidewalks are littered with rocks.
Gloves hang in the basement of the former quality assurance labs.
In the steam plant, steam pipes bundled in canvas and asbestos criss-cross the walls.
Construction in 2014 reveals a lost stone sign.
This building looked like some sort of office.
The clock, which was sold after Amtrak dumped the building, was returned to the Waiting Room in 2005.
A me-sized hole in the half-demolished skyway looks about a story down to the ground. Step lightly. Arista 100.
Checking out the neighbors. Shot on a the legendary Pentax 67.
When it was convenient, the sugar company would pull equipment, even pipes, from one mill for another.
Water vapor was collected and condensed to be reused in other processes. Kodak Tri-X 400/Leica M7
Hip bump girl.
My first picture at Nopeming, sometime around 2004. The same year that the county stopped mowing the lawn.
The bottom of the elevator in the new foundry.
Standing atop the dust collector, the factory breaks down into diverging patterns, processes.
Without their walls these Solvent Recovery Line buildings look like blast walls. Their concrete inner structures were part of the design so if there was an explosion inside it would ‘blow out’ with a puff instead of a bang. Now most of these are demolished or overgrown.
Below the historic National Guard Armory.
The back side of the hotel is plain, but for a fire escape.
The middle missile launcher, as seen from the roof of its neighbor.
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.
I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.
This section of the production floor was constantly dripping. Someone had laid down giant plastic sheeting to attempt to protect the lower floors, but it hasn’t worked.
The top floor of the apartment seemed so empty without the furniture that once adorned it. Instead, my eyes were drawn to the worn paths in the floor between the rooms.
So much relies on one thing stacked on top of another thing.
Pozo Mine, the most menacing mine building I’ve ever seen. Black and white film, shot with the Fuji GX680, a beast of a camera.
The chapel (left) and surgical suite (straight on) move in an out of view as fog rolls up from the St. Louis River valley.
“This way,” then, “No, that way!”
Let’s play a game called “FIND THE PIGEON”! There is one bird in this photo of dust collectors atop the King Elevator train shed.
Beautiful belt wheels above the grain cribs. Getting to the spot where this was taken is now impossible, and I don’t know whether these remain or not anymore.
The main buildings were mostly interconnected and in good condition. The dry air helps to preserve the wooden structures.
Looking out of the demolished skyway. Note the big hole in the floor. The lens is too wide to keep my foot out of it… I’m hanging in the superstructure that I climbed to make this photo.
I like to think of this as a giant straw, through which the factory is slowly draining the earth, leaving nothing but reinforced concrete below…
Train-mounted snowplows pushed the snow through the fence and against the old offices.
The most derelict of the old bonded warehouses. Note the barrel elevator on the side of it!
The stone chapel sits beside the main house and received a particularly heavy dose of gothic architectural touches.
Trees by the beautiful Nurse’s Cottage above and behind the Kirkbride. One side looks out over farmland while the other faces the back of the hospital grounds. As of 2014, the city is allowing artists to rent spaces inside.
A street side exposure of the original 1914 section of the orphanage. Turned into black and white to deemphasize all the graffiti across the front steps.
Most of the gauges on the control panels were broken.
Thick glass windows allow workers to check the beet juice levels in this steel tank. You can tell by the reinforcement that it had a lot of liquid and had to hold against immense pressure. Kodak Tri-X 400/Leica M7.
Wagons and horses were kept in the building on the left, separate from the rest of the complex in case of fire. In the distance is the boiler house, separate for the same reason.
Before it was demolished, there was one good staircase the led to the middle of the dock. Trees grew from it.
The left cave is the largest of the three, and shows the most evidence of expansion.
“Daisy”… probably for the mill, as it was unusual for women to work at Daisy.
Rogers Mine is one of the most structurally sound mines in the Iron River area that isn’t part of a museum.
I am sure even the workers had trouble remembering which pillar hid the phone. Note the “ON” written on the electrical socket, too.
The top of the grain handler of Ogilvie’s. The flagpole serves as a lightning rod. In fact, I would not be surprised if that was its primary purpose.
A scrapped steam turbine, perhaps. In the background you can see a gutted casing for another turbine.
When block glass shatters, it looks like ice.
Windows provided the 250-some workers with fresh air and light, and helped to keep flour dust from building up in the air, helping to prevent explosions. Today, machines control air flow better without windows, so they were bricked.
A look at the Longmont Sugar Mill in May 2014.
I wonder when fluorescent lighting was added.
In the mine offices, hooks and a board with numbers was the system to keep track of who was in the mine and who was safe.
When the Mitchell project is complete, I’ll miss the textures on the face of the boiler.
The steel awning and its elegant staircase are one of my favorite features near the old carpentry shop. The gymnasium-theater is in the background.
The belts on these mills have long ben missing.
A side view of the oven pusher from the ground. The tallest coal bunker looks tiny in the distance, though on the scale of the factory it’s practically on top of me as I’m taking the picture.
Copper poured from this furnace and was cast by the autocaster on the right into billets.