The top floor’s old-fashioned hospital ways were too much to pass without a photo or two… with the paint falling off the walls it was as if the building was shedding its skin in an effort to become rejuvenated or useful.
One chute drops grain on a conveyor for storage in the north silo cluster, while another is ready to deposit the flow where the conveyor cannot reach. Instead of engineering the belt to trip in reverse, the silos under the workhouses have their own chutes.
It’s a mystery to me why this elevator has a Gold Medal Flour ghost sign. You can read it along with its obsolete monikers today.
I really like the way this high-ceilinged room is decaying. Well, decayed. It’s demolished now.
Sluice tables stretch into the darkness.
The quality assurance labs were no doubt a busy place.
A few from atop the steam gauges along the western wall. The turbines were scrapped quickly after the plant closed, it seemed.
A skyway 100 feet above this office crumbled one day. This is what happened when those two met. High-impact love.
Parts lockers on the top floor of the power plant.