One of my favorite night views of Fort Snelling’s so-called Upper Post, taken between snowstorms.
One side of the street is demolished. The other is not.
This old Jetta did more offroading than your average lifted tinted loud-exhaust pickup.
Redlining is the practice of shutting certain races out of neighborhoods, and it is still a big problem today. Such behaviors were a big factor in creating the need for these projects.
Looking across the spired rooftop of the Kirkbride building. In the foreground is a fire chute that contains a metal spiral slide designed to evacuate patients in case of a fire. Note the ironwork on the chimney.
The side of the administration building. Around the side was a sign instructing potential employees to return on set days and times.
When I saw this section, I knew the dock was abandoned.
It’s like a piece of paper that’s been written on and rewritten, until you can’t read what the original message was.
Looking from rooftop to rooftop at the Temple Opera Block and Orpheum/NorShor. The tall section in the rear is the theatre house.
Looking up the hill from the rooftop of the Temple Opera Block. The downtown casino (left) looks far closer to its original use as a Sears Roebuck department store than it does today. Behind it is the blighted Carter Hotel, one of many abandoned buildings near the former Orpheum.
A row of houses north of Pommenige.
A single cloud makes its way to Buffington Harbor and Lake Michigan from the quiet backroads of the plant.
Carter Color used to occupy this block.
This bridge over Eagle River is beautiful.
The main street of the ghost town is also the maintenance road for the BNSF line that bisects Colmor.
Some of the earlier buildings were dressed up with brick facades.
A bridge crosses the main street of the village; one that goes nowhere. Ambiguity intended.
A gate large enough to accommodate a missile, next to the ruins of the guard shack. Wyoming is the intersection of lonely and beautiful.
Looking down Pommenicher Straße from Gaststätte Rosarius, the monstrous machine about to devour the town bites at the ground.
Approaching the power station and its giant stack. The stack replaced four shorter stacks in the 1960s, helping with pollution in the downtown corridor.
I am not sure what this structure is, but it seems to be put together like a gold mill. It existed in 1952, and seems to be from about that period.
A shuttered house at the end of the block doesn’t even have boards on it anymore.
Looking across the ruin-strewn brownfield left from ACME’s operation and demolition.
Don’t you love the shape of the house on the right?
A wide view of the complex from a far rooftop.
A row of houses north of Pommenige.
The main gate, as seen in 2005. It hasn’t changed much since then.
The modern shaft stands above the north side of Gilman.
The school (hospital) campus was expansive.
Frankie on the White Pine Mine vehicle access shaft. The mine was traditional inside… all room-and-pillar.
When it became “Hyde Park Hospital”, this portico was added onto the front.
A panorama showing the biggest building in Gilman—unless you count the massive mine below as a structure.
From my archives–the NorShor as an innocent gentleman’s club, called ‘the NorShor Experience’.
Superior Street, as seen from the roof of the Temple Opera Block. Below is one of the sealed sidewalk elevator hatches.
Canal Park (see bridge) and some of old downtown, formerly Duluth City Hall and Police Department (center-left). At least one star has appeared in the sky…