A primitive intercom system connected the various wards to their respective nurse’s stations. They looked hand-made and likely originated, in part, in the FFSH carpentry shop. They were often placed high, like this one, to be out of patient reach.
Powdered coal would sit in these hoppers before they get mixed with water to make a slurry. Then the mixture is injected into the firebox and ignited to make a coal-powered flamethrower capable of boiling water very quickly.
A long exposure in the wind, lit by airport lights.
Each fireplace in the Administration Tower had a different design, color scheme, and little features to make it unique. One thing held true, however: none of them looked decent next to the disgusting 1990s cubicle farm carpet.
Does Disney pay the school, or does the school pay Disney? #consumerism
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.
Some guerilla art for passing drivers on I-94 East to enjoy. Artist unknown.
Looking at the tallest part of the plant from a skeletal loading dock. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
Frankie on the White Pine Mine vehicle access shaft. The mine was traditional inside… all room-and-pillar.
Ektar 100/Mamiya 6.
Looking out the window a the foundations of the demolished company homes.
You can almost make out the concrete chute through the open window. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
A photo from the early 2000s before the conveyors were scrapped.
My favorite shot of the 17-story Art Deco office tower attached to the train station.
An engine on display outside the Montana Territorial Prison in Deer Lodge, MT. This was a typical electric locomotive used by The Milwaukee Road.
Vents in the boards over the windows helps prevent mold and animals from getting too crazy inside.
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.
Watching the sun set behind downtown Detroit is my favorite memory from the building.
A rare door left on the workhouse. The stairs to the left led down into a flooded basement. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
Officers got houses and the honor of living near other officers. They call it Officer’s Row.
The basements of the barracks were often stone and brick, and many of them were connected by short tunnels.
Tunnels interconnected all of the complex, carrying power, steam, laundry and food throughout the hospital. This is a typical causeway that would have been very busy when the hospital was operating. In some places, signs still point to defunct areas of the hospital.
At the top of the elevator was a distribution room to direct the grain onto conveyor belts below.
Fluorescent lights peel back from the walls like caterpillars, rearing up and away from the glare of the sunflower-fans.
Portraits of great men.
The Peavey logo, before it rusted off and the offices were demolished.
The only door into a large windowless concrete room, probably a storage bin. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
At the extreme eastern end of the plant is a bank of modern concrete silos. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
A 8-foot-tall volume indicator that could be read from across the beet boiler floor–convenient when the controls are 20 feet away.
Kat dancing down the trestle, which is one of the highest in the state, standing about 100 feet over the road. Mamiya 6/Portra 160
A matrix panorama of the brewhouse staircase, post-scrapping. So pretty…
Lessons from the day.
A detailed view of the side of the quenching tower, seemingly aged by its hard job.
This big rusty sphere hides behind the incomplete 5-stack.
Looking across at the Cargill elevator.
Shelves in in the coloring department, where hundreds of different mixer lids are splashed with hardened glass dyes. Color thanks to a yellow-tinted skylight.
Wintertime is quiet, except for the planes overhead.
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.
Water damage dissolved the ceiling into sludge. Pillars remain, as do the plastic light covers, now on the floor.
On the boarded-up first floor of the house proper near the door to the chapel, the last pew sites next to a wet box of Bibles.
Away from the rest of the plant–as if forgotten, or hiding–is this little stamp press. Yes, this is little by press standards.
“Paint the fence,” they said, but I don’t feel like it… who cares, anyway.
The individual ovens are skinny to allow even and fast heating of the whole interior. Numbers are cut into signs because no paint could withstand the heat or corrosive emissions from the coking process.
On the dark side of the workhouse at sunset, you can almost see where the walls used to be. Kodak Portra 160/Mamiya 6.
This part of the workhouse was sheathed in fiberglass, but now you can see its insides from a mile away.
Looking north from the east portal of the tunnel… a beautiful place. Wilderness. Mamiya 6/Portra 160
Chester Creek takes many such sliding dives where it empties into Lake Superior.
Model: Devan. Instagram: sextmachine
The west portal of the tunnel is open, and if it wasn’t for the rough track, I would think by looking at it that a train could be coasting up behind me any moment. Mamiya 6/Portra 160
In a now-demolished building, a skylight begins to separate.
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.
East Elevation of the Depot. Ektar 100/Mamiya 6
No wonder the factory shut down; everyone was scheduled to work 9 to 5 and the clock’s broken! (In all seriousness, this is/used to be a beautiful timepiece, especially for a utilitarian factory like this.
A manhole cover sealing Clark House Creek below Superior Street.
While the maps name this the compressor house, I believe, based on its size and number of heavy machine mounts, that it also housed the pumps to drain the mine.