These long curved corridors connected the wards. Locked doors on both of their ends were a security and comfort feature. Sounds and people would be sealed in their respective wards, as the hallways would act like beautiful airlocks; they were so long that it was unlikely that doors would be open on both sides at the same time. Portra 160.
In the power house corner is this gratuitously gigantic doorway. It used to be even bigger, too, as indicated by the brick arch another foot over the top windows.
These Twin Cities kisses Sound like clicks and hisses. We all tumbled down and Drowned in the Mississippi River. -The Hold Steady
Looking past the hoist room (left) toward Shaft No. 1, behind the concrete head frame built in the late 1940s. This shaft could haul equipment from ground level (below) to shop level, where the picture was taken.
A high-ceilinged room where kegs would be delivered for cleaning, before they were refilled with fresh booze.
A back-lit tree with the silhouette of a roof spire in the background.
Looking out at the abandoned neighborhood around the house.
A bedroom, from the basement. The Dog Days are Over.
Because painted signs would not hold up in this spot–in between four ovens that were literally hot enough to melt steel inside. Solution: Cut the pipe labels into the sheet metal. Seems to have worked.