This dirt-brick building hasn’t fared well.
Lost words over the auditorium entrance.
If you look closely, you can see the rain dropping into the building. This is the part of the chapel with the collapsed roof–not the carvings on the choir loft.
The iron holding up the plaster ceiling is rusted to the point the weight of it is bending it right over.
Behind the main shaft is this familiar industrial sight… a running count of days since the last injury.
Bells are highly symbolic, being used from everything from calling worshipers in the morning to exorcising demons at night.
A reminder on the Gilman union board not to buy Coors beer. Read more here: http://www.cpr.org/news/story/coors-boycott-when-beer-can-signaled-your-politics
This roof hasn’t budged under the weight of snow, instead it just filters-through the light onto the floor.
In its last years, the church had a congregation of only about 100. It opened with 1.700…
Sunrise in the orphanage… between classrooms and whispers.
Mold creeps up the walls of the offices that housed the Closing Team of the TCRC – Twin Cities Research Center – as water damage pulls ceiling tiles down.
Looking into a common from the grounds. The block glass makes the interior seem dreamlike and distorted. Note the poor condition of the bricks around the window.
A damaged roof channeled rain onto the adobe walls, cutting them in half. In the distance, a preserved house and the ruins of the Colmor School.
This building had its own kitchen, suggesting that it may have been one of the hospitals units within Norwich, such as the tuberculosis hospital.
A small stage in one of the barracks.
Little crosses on the side of the church, near a broken window.
This is one of the biggest warps I’ve ever found in a wooden factory floor hasn’t broken yet. When you stand on it, it make a very loud popping sound as the boards shift. The poster on the pillar near the left side of the frame advertises recreational boating, presumably to the factory workers who left this floor in the early 1980s.
Holes in the roof lead to holes in the plaster and finally holes in the floor. That’s not what gutted the God from this altar, though.
Fire doors separate the buildings.
There’s no way an explorer, much less a choir, could stand here now. Since this picture was taken the roof has collapsed onto the loft.
Rain and snow has gutted a third of the building. From the ground floor, I could see the sky in some places.
The back wall of the ballroom, showing water-warped floors.
Taken while standing on the torn outline of a scrapped altar. With my back to the faded outlines of men, books and the Holy Grail, the room seems much lighter.
A swinging curtain to separate the beds.
Looking to the chapel addition from the Chateau.
Water damage dissolved the ceiling into sludge. Pillars remain, as do the plastic light covers, now on the floor.
“GREETING FROM BEAUTIFUL GARY–WISH YOU WERE HERE!” My postcard shot.
Those able to work would be compelled to help fix up the facility, grow, harvest, and prepare food for fellow ‘inmates’, or work on vocational skills.
A basement classroom, its chalkboards long gone, overlooks the playground.
2015. Water damage hastens the decay of the annex and its stage. Every time I visit this room, the chairs are in different places. Kodak Portra 400 in a Voigtlander Bessa.
The floor in this building (now demolished) was very rotten. This picture was taken through a window from very firm ground.
A typical Chateau wall. Kodak Tri-X 400 in Leica M7.