The mill was powered, in part, by water flowing through turbines under it. After the flow worked the industrial heart of the flour mill, it was exit to the Mississippi here.
From the highest roof of Ogvilvie’s, Thunder Bay looks like paradise.
Another perfect Indianan sunset alights like a bird on the tops of the vent houses and tree-packed smokestacks.
These rails used to connect to those inside the Santiago Tunnel. Now they dangle above tailings.
Taken on a short trip where the whole floor of the roundhouse and engine shop was covered in fresh snow–thanks to the holes in the roof and open windows.
Solvent pumping buildings, designed to explode upwards rather than outwards in an emergency, are forgotten near the milkweed.
Like a grave marker, a single post remembers where Dock 3 stood on the bay.
Mitchell Avenue, the main drag of a ghost town. Traces of asphalt and curbs are barely visible through patches of grass. In the old plan of the town, Mitchell Hotel would be to my direct left in this scene, and about 10 houses would flank this street to the left and right.
A multi-family home with an attic bedroom. The staircase was unstable, to say the least.