When boiling beet juice accidentally spills from the gas-fired tanks two feet away, you better be wearing some of these, or bye-bye legs.
A sign facing the city on an exterior wall–a sort of motivational poster.
I tried to hide the graffiti from my photos, but sometimes it wasn’t possible.
A view of the government presses, with pages of law across the floor covered in footprints.
This sawtooth roof collapsed months later under the weight of an early snow.
The view from the larry, looking out at the overgrowing coke oven top. Papers listed the order of the charges for each oven, noting the sticky doors and persistent leaks. Emergency respirators and rescue gear was stored close, as long exposure to emissions from the rusty hatches could make worker pass out on the top of the ovens.
A cloud moves across the attic in front of the window. How? A photographer’s secret.
Behind the small stage is a hallway signed by practically every act that walked through its doors. There’s also a pair of palms. Since all the heat in the building collects in this area, it did seem more tropical.
At the top of the workhouse, dust collection pipes weave through cross-crossing conveyors.