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.
The holes were for men to poke reluctant ore with long poles, with the hope that a lucky jab would let the load slide down into the boat below. Now they’re just traps.
Looking into the coke batteries in the extant oven… chunks of coke are still hanging from the inner walls, despite the exterior’s wrecking ball pummeling.
The side of Saskatchewan Wheat Pool #7, still active, is hypnotizingly regular. From a distance, its texture resembles parchment. Its color resembles the color of the wheat in late October.
Part of the grain drier system in ADM #1 crawls up the side of the building like a steel vine.
A series of interconnected offices that look like they hadn’t been painted in 40 years.
Identical warehouses seem a little newer than the rest of the plant. I suspect these were added in the mid-1950s for the Korean War, during which about 200 buildings were added to the complex.
One of my favorite visual feature of grain elevators, especially big ones, is how they repeat.
Rivets are sexy, and this old machine has more than a fair share.
Hard to find your seat when it doesn’t know its own name.
Above the old machine shop is a packing building and a crate of cardboard label rolls.
Offices above the labs. Note all the air handling equipment. I love the utilitarian design.
Small rooms in the basement of the asylum were seemingly too tiny to be used, even for storage.
I can confirm the existence of the long-rumored Federal Rectangle Research Institute labs.
There are 700 of these storage bunkers. Their design was to funnel explosions upward, rather than toward other buildings, to minimize secondary explosions.