They left and took their God with ’em. Doesn’t feel too empty without ‘im, though.
A shipment board for customers that may or may not exist anymore. Let’s assume any of the products made here are probably on backorder.
A skyway 100 feet above this office crumbled one day. This is what happened when those two met. High-impact love.
Next to the pit in the maintenance shop is “The Wall”… where rail workers wrote about interesting happenings at Shoreham.
Behind the small stage is a hallway signed by practically every act that walked through its doors. There’s also a pair of palms. Since all the heat in the building collects in this area, it did seem more tropical.
Like looking out of an airship.
The doorframes become more askew every year as the buildings slip downward into the gulch at different rates. This seems to be the part of the mine ruins where transients leave their marks. The graffiti dated back to the 1970s, at least.
Spring melt flows down the rusty rock house. In the background is the frame for the shaft.
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.