Pocket door and light switches in the upper control room, at the top of the spiral staircase.
One of the only modern features aboard was its bow and stern thrusters, which would have helped the Ford a lot, if it was not for the fact that without a working engine, forward motion was impossible. Strangely, even before it was scrapped, it could probably move side to side.
I follow this advice every day. You should too.
One of two projectors, still set to run old 3D flicks.
A colorful boiler is a happy boiler! RotoGrate systems remove ashes from the boiler firebox by revolving the bottom of the system to let the fly ash drop into a hopper. This greatly increases boiler efficiency.
A few remnants of the control room that were not vandalized at this point; now it’s a different story, unfortunately. The tile is glazed ceramic to be permanently nonconductive.
The back of the pilot house had a desk full of navigational notes and maps.
A half acre of switchboards and switches, circuit breakers and generators. Modern.
The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.
One of two control towers that reached over the lake. The control panel here was used to move the conveyors over the ship’s hold doors, adjust flow of the taconite, and so on.
Light-painted to show off the beautiful radar equipment inside and Park Point across the bay.
Power-up to cool down… would have been nice on the hot day I climbed on top of this machine.
The well-worn chair in one larry’s operator cab, next to an overgrown coke battery.
All of the fire alarms had been triggered.
The view from the larry, looking out at the overgrowing coke oven top. Papers listed the order of the charges for each oven, noting the sticky doors and persistent leaks. Emergency respirators and rescue gear was stored close, as long exposure to emissions from the rusty hatches could make worker pass out on the top of the ovens.