Balcony Door

Pozo Mine, the most menacing mine building I’ve ever seen. Black and white film, shot with the Fuji GX680, a beast of a camera.

“Place Tripod Here” my friends would say. But for me, it’s the money shot. Note the painting around the inside of the skylight.

Reflections of graffiti during spring melt.

Perhaps this office was for a film studio or music producer.

Heavy wood doors for keeping people in.

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.

The doorframes become more askew every year as the buildings slip downward into the gulch at different rates. This seems to be the part of the mine ruins where transients leave their marks. The graffiti dated back to the 1970s, at least.

I am not sure, but I think this section was a storehouse; it has two ramps that connect the rail yard outside and the blacksmith shop. On all of the historic doors that face that part of the yard, signs caution workers to look out for cars…

This side of the mill, which abuts the Great Miami River, is much older than the other side of B Street. You can tell it went through many revisions.