I wish I knew what has become of this great one-of-a-kind sign that used to brag how many days the Clyde Iron factory has gone without a serious accident. Update: It’s hanging in one of the smaller venue spaces behind the bar.
No wonder the factory shut down; everyone was scheduled to work 9 to 5 and the clock’s broken! (In all seriousness, this is/used to be a beautiful timepiece, especially for a utilitarian factory like this.
A primitive intercom system connected the various wards to their respective nurse’s stations. They looked hand-made and likely originated, in part, in the FFSH carpentry shop. They were often placed high, like this one, to be out of patient reach.
A wrecked pressure gauge and employee time cards.
In a now-demolished building, a skylight begins to separate.
Goals for 1980, still tacked onto the wall.
Shoes and booze, backstage.
One basement room has a pile of x-rays of miners, taken and stored by the company.
A snapshot of the most preserved classroom in the orphanage.