In the mine offices, hooks and a board with numbers was the system to keep track of who was in the mine and who was safe.
When the factory’s production line was up for auction, many parts were removed, crated and labeled with big painted numbers to ease their removal by buyers. Not everything sold, however, so not one dark corner of the factory seems without a pile of dislocated industrial junk.
If it wasn’t for the humming and crackling of the wires, I could believe I had arrived to a post apocalyptic landscape.
Without proper pressure, the steering engine was ineffective.
The Dock 5 sign at track level. Probably as an aid to sailors reboarding their vessels.
In the bottom of a creek, an antique children’s wheelchair is buried in grass, where someone threw it. Wooden leg braces suggest this dates to the 1950s.
Miscellaneous math and strange instructions remain all across the shipment section walls. Sadly, this section likely fell into disrepair before the others.
The great stenciled number on this chute caught my eye.