The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.
A little welding art one crosses over near the windlass room.
An original, minimally remodeled bathroom above the cafeteria reminds us what the whole complex once looked like.
The old men’s ward is an example of what the hospital resembled before part of the complex was modernized. Small rooms, light switches outside the door, small observation windows set into heavy wood. If you ask me, though, the tile work across the floors is the most spectacular.
Latin; to grow. Root of the English word ‘surge’.
The man behind the curtain watches, but doesn’t say anything. Probably the smartest one in the room.
The entrance to the area where staff could sleep.
The pigeons and raccoons have no use for these, so they will sit empty until snow or fire removes them by force.
These buildings were largely used as concentrators for the crushed rock, although I did spy some small mills inside these too.