The Clipper was one of the most popular Packards, but its production was cut short by WWII. Had they produced the car instead of Rolls Royce plane engines I imagine there would might be driving a Packard today, rather than a Ford.
Looking from the brewhouse at the death of its sister building, across Minnehaha.
After climbing the elevator shaft to the illusive second level, a new pallet of colors were revealed.
These wide spools sit atop the abandoned tracks that lead to the train shed, which was later repurposed into a truck shed.
Power House, 2000s
From the roof of the larger power plant’s Building A, Hastings, MN’s lights burn behind the smokestacks.
Demolition about 75% complete.
Model: Devan. Instagram: sextmachine
The side of the main elevator, severed by “Woodchucks”.
From bottom to top: The demolished Dock 3, the abandoned Dock 4, and the active BNSF Taconite Dock.
Many of the higher floors were more or less demolished–usually more. These would have been condos had ‘The Arcade’ project come to fruition. Now there are simply wide open floors punctuated only by pillars and meaningless hallways.
I wanted to see the third floor to get a better view, but the third floor had already been demolished. The old walls had cascaded down the staircases. This building is gone, now, as you can expect.
This door led to a now-demolished skyway crossing Minnehaha Ave connecting the brewhouse to Fermentation, also demolished.
The same view in 2007.
Superior, WI, some have said, is a suburb of Duluth, MN. It’s more like a sub-suburb, I would argue. It’s the industrial district that is technically in another state, one that sells beer on Sundays. Perspective is looking out of the mostly-disassembled larger (newer) elevator.
The elevator works on gravity… this is where a conveyor belt was to move the grain toward the main elevator to be loaded into ships.
A broken-down wooden grain chute.
This was not always the top of the elevator.
Looking toward a void–formerly a hallway to the mineshaft–now a hole in the ground.
About a second after the explosives were triggered.
Watching the demolition of one stockhouse from another. The two cranes were removing steel storage tanks.
The conveyor between the shore and Dock 2. Note the gap in the aerial walkway that used to connect Dock 4 to the rest of the complex.
In what used to be a hallway under what used to be a skyway, each with what had conveyor belts for the grain that once was stored here. The fog doesn’t change.
This higher level floor was cleared out ahead of a failed development plan. The skyscraper office building suddenly became something that looked like a parking ramp.
Thanks to the demolition (I’ll never say that again), the inner structure of the bins are revealed. So much wood!
How many buildings are in this pile of blocks? Not as many as there are piles, I can bet you.
Looking across the ruin-strewn brownfield left from ACME’s operation and demolition.
The offices were cut in half, letting the fog roll in and the photographers roll out.
All electrical rooms were surrounded by walls, for obvious reasons. Now all the walls are gone, for reasons less obvious.
Here, you can see the edge of the foundation of the 19th century roundhouse.
A more recent look into the milling floor… the past decade hasn’t been good for this mill.
Carter Color used to occupy this block.
The railworks was totally demolished.
The coal extractor swings back and forth, ripping coal from the ground and throwing it on a conveyor belt to be burned a few miles away.
Looking down Pommenicher Straße from Gaststätte Rosarius, the monstrous machine about to devour the town bites at the ground.
The depot at the head of town seems to be being disassembled. Behind it is a dead signal where the tracks used to be; they’ve been pulled.
S&X seen in the background through the fog.
Now, to add a human scale.
Here you can see the end of the scrapping phase in 2011.
Squinting from the top floor through the skyway, one can feel small, like they’re in a heavy industrial dollhouse.
Don’t you love the shape of the house on the right?
To run new gutters through the building, some of the plaster walls of the Chateau had to be smashed through.
The taller of the two smokestacks on site. Note the crack around its crown.
Note that the back of Stockhouse #4 is missing. A year later, Fermentation was on the ground too.
For some time, tugboats were stored next to the elevator.
While the last of the Studebaker production buildings were being demolished, I visited again. Here’s a shot taken shortly after the demolition crew left for the day.
Easier-to-demolish parts of the power plant were torched apart. Catwalks to nowhere meant lots of dead ends.
One side of the street is demolished. The other is not.
In the background you can see the crane, which would in the weeks to follow bring all you see here to the ground.
This was one of two skyways that went between production line offices. It’s easy to tell because it’s not reinforced for machinery to travel through it. I also like that it’s a double-decker, so to speak.
Demolition following the arson of the Administration Building.
On this production line, the office was elevated far above the floor.
Demolition about 50% complete.
Demolition crews got a taste of this 5-story power plant and decided to take a month-long smoke break. Here’s the bite.
The approach to Dock 4 is long demolished, so it is only accessible when the lake freezes.
Looking up at the network of elevators at the Saskatchewan Wheat Pool. Its train shed doors stand open under the void where conveyors should be. You can see where they used to connect on the left and right. The outside of the building is covered in racist graffiti.
I’m very happy to have caught Marquette before it was completely destroyed. If you’re wondering, it costs about $1,000,000 to demolish and elevator like this, and not that much work for the demo crews.
When the lake levels were especially low, the pilings of Dock 3 that are usually underwater were clearly visible between Dock 2 and Dock 4.
Death. About two seconds after the explosives were triggered.
The stock house tanks were long scrapped for their steel, but what remains gives a sense of what it looked like.