Looking at the boarded exterior of the newer area of the orphanage from its 1914 section.
This was not always the top of the elevator.
A door covered in pen graffiti.
Trees between duplexes overshadow the buildings they were planted to shield; revenge for the boards on the windows.
Don’t you love the shape of the house on the right?
From the bottom of the skyway I looked back, my eyes tracing the vines from the marsh up the smokestacks to the perfect Midwestern sky.
In the basement were all the valves to control the flow of municipal steam through the building. This hasty hand letting was beside one such valve, near a carved brick with a name and ‘1934’ under it.
Looking up the tallest structure left at ACME.
A facade that tells the story of demolition and neglect. The sign on the garage door indicates that if one finds themselves there, that they enter the buildings at their own risk. If only property owners in the US took this philosophy!