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.
In the mine offices, hooks and a board with numbers was the system to keep track of who was in the mine and who was safe.
This building looked like some sort of office.
A patient room is more intact than others.
The giant radiators in this casting shop look like a flag to me.
In the bottom of a creek, an antique children’s wheelchair is buried in grass, where someone threw it. Wooden leg braces suggest this dates to the 1950s.
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.
Chester Creek, where it was forced to dip below the circa-1970s I-35 tunnels.
A rooftop scene.
Instructional film strips on the floor of a second floor closer.