One of the only remaining pieces of equipment in the distilling room is this green control panel on a bridge suspended in the middle of it all.
Inside the main entrance to the depot. Through the ‘To Station’ door, you can see some of the news stands. Look at the floor!
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.
Part of the unremodeled hospital, above the Service Building, where employees would stay sometimes.
In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
The modern morgue, a replacement for the original morgue which has since been turned into a kitchen area.
Far above the areas that were heavily scrapped, I found some old bottles to collect samples of the sour mash whiskey as it made its was from the distillation room to barrel filling.
I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.