The workshop and parts room was full of light and meticulously sorted bolts, nuts, washers, gaskets, and all sorts of specialty hardware.
Paint lines were constantly monitored through big windows. Adjustments could be made on the dedicated consoles. This is what most of the painting floor looked like.
This is the crane that would be used to lower extra-heavy bits of copper ore into the fire of the furnace.
One of the cupola air intakes, rattled loose by the demolition downstairs, hangs stranded on the second floor. You can see that the floor I’m standing on in this picture used to extend all the way to the right wall. The blue paint on the wall made the climb absolutely worth it.
This mean-looking thing had a purpose, probably, but that function has been lost to decades of expansion.
When you’re incoming’s piling up with paint chips, what’s one to do? Call in a sick?
Can you hear the ship’s horn through this picture?
Part of the unremodeled hospital, above the Service Building, where employees would stay sometimes.
Taken from the rooftop looking toward downtown, a hometown, a river town.