Easier-to-demolish parts of the power plant were torched apart. Catwalks to nowhere meant lots of dead ends.
Much of the milling equipment predated the mill itself, so I would not be surprised if this particular machine really dates to 1860.
We mark our world in unexpected ways… this is how patient possessions would be stored during their stay in the old asylum wards. It’s about the size of a shoebox, and this particular drawer has a name where the others do not. Its place reminded me of the hospital cemetery where more than 3,000 are buried and less than 1% of whom are recorded by stone or plaque in their resting place.
On this production line, the office was elevated far above the floor.
On the extended engine bay…
The offices were cut in half, letting the fog roll in and the photographers roll out.
The machine shop today.
Someone had helped themselves to one of the safety posters before my visit.