One thing that struck me as a midwesterner in the South was the vines. They seem to be able to completely cover a building when left alone for a few decades.
When I looked out of the old mill, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was holding it all up.
As if they were planning to move the furniture out of the hospital, it all sits in the main hallway in the ground floor.
On the ground floor of the main factory there seems to be only one chair left.
A steel powder keg serves as a door prop on the static-proof wood core floor. Note the ‘XXX’ marking to the left of the double door.
The corner of Clyde on Michigan Street looked like it had been sealed a long time.
The main shaft’s cable spooled with bird castings belies the fact that lives used to dangle from its steel-wound strength. Arrows on the circles would indicate the mine level the cars were currently at.