One thing I like about the oppressive globalist-wrought future is the idea of numerically subdividing spaces; my geek side sort of wants to live in a flat that can be sorted by as Dewey Decimal-like code.
A leftover swatch remembers the last fabric sewn here.
A tore-up Colorado Southern Railway sign and the majestic (in an industrial sense) Argo Mill. Go. On. The. Tour. Leica/Summilux 35/Ektar 100
Here, the concentrated gold (and silver, and zinc, I would guess) would be loaded into trucks bound for the smelter.
The side of the maintenance shops, still home to several disassembled electric carts.
This was a living space for the keepers during storms, when it was too dangerous to return to the houses on the point.
Standing between pockets 1 and 2. You brought hearing protection, right?
Some sort of materials handling building, judging by the construction.
Park Insurance Agency is no longer in business, nor would you be able to dial that phone number.
I had to search the shelves a while to find this old logbook. The open page lists changes in stock numbers for Cutler Hammer Coils, and one row says that a new coil was installed on the black larry. The larry is the machine that loads coke ovens.