Elevator B, used by a local farmer, stands behind an old farm truck at the edge of town.
Watching the comings and goings of doctors, nurses and new patients was a mainstay of asylum routine; one can find it easy to imagine pale faces pressed against the block glass windows, staring out at the world moving past them.
Each room is painted a different hue, so the light reflecting into the hallway carries those colors. The blue padding on the left is for one of the padded rooms…
The outside of Whiting Mine, as it looks today.
One of the generators, weeks before it was taken apart to be shipped to another power plant somewhere else.
Silverton’s elevator, pictured here, is still active.
I love that the administration building–almost 100 years old now–still carries the original name.
Looking at the Broadway from across Broadway, a beautiful Buffalo day. Note the glazed terra cotta facade–and the signs of fire damage from the first floor.
When the building switched souls from booze to bread, these contraptions were mounted across the brewhouse floors… they’re not for hops, either.