Windows provided the 250-some workers with fresh air and light, and helped to keep flour dust from building up in the air, helping to prevent explosions. Today, machines control air flow better without windows, so they were bricked.
Another perfect Indianan sunset alights like a bird on the tops of the vent houses and tree-packed smokestacks.
Parking strictly forbidden. A sign in front of Cheratte’s former truck shops.
I assume this sign used to sit near the highway that snakes around the mine and town.
HDR matrix panorama. Looking from the grain elevators, now doomed, toward the city between the flour mill’s water tower and tile elevator’s neon sign, the old and new economies seem almost united. Yet the financial centers rise in reality to shadow the now-abandoned industry and manufacturing. The way of things, I’m told.
The coal extractor swings back and forth, ripping coal from the ground and throwing it on a conveyor belt to be burned a few miles away.
A view of the Harris offices, complete with great block glass.