David Aho, the owner of Mitchell Engine House, poses beside the boiler.
The mill is one of the tallest buildings in the city. It’s too bad that the cupola with its big skylights and flagpole were removed.
Between the room with mold sand and the space where the car’s metal bits would be put together, a pillar is marked as structurally vital.
A shuttered house at the end of the block doesn’t even have boards on it anymore.
The Sun Rooms, or Common Rooms, reminded me of the Panopitcon turned inside-out.
Looking from the shaft room into the room where an electric hoist would be.
From the street, it’s clear that almost every window and door had boards over it, but not every building had a roof. Silly priorities.
Windows provided the 250-some workers with fresh air and light, and helped to keep flour dust from building up in the air, helping to prevent explosions. Today, machines control air flow better without windows, so they were bricked.