The chalkboard in the filtering plant reminds new visitors of the last day.
Stacks of patient record cards; names in the graveyard. All ‘Not Improved’.
You can see why so few products had bright packaging. If the can here was brown, you’d never see it in a dark wood cabinet.
Behind the main shaft is this familiar industrial sight… a running count of days since the last injury.
On my first self-guided tour, the calculator was caught my eye because it was one of the few things left behind in the laboratories that filled the second floor. On my next trip, it had been smashed to pieces.
Beside the shaft building are two fans on skids, indicating they were used underground.
Far above the areas that were heavily scrapped, I found some old bottles to collect samples of the sour mash whiskey as it made its was from the distillation room to barrel filling.
I assume this sign used to sit near the highway that snakes around the mine and town.
Records of ore samples, mostly ruined by the water flowing into the space.