As photographed from a cement piling for Slip #3 poured in 1935, disconnected from land by erosion. How do I know the date? A pair of steamship engineers carved their initials and ranks into the wet cement!
The scale of the grain hoppers helps tell the story of how large Hamm’s was in its day.
A cracked sign at dock-level, where loading boats would be tied below the taconite conveyors. All across the surface of the concrete dock were taconite pellets, like slippery little marbles. One wrong step could put a worker in the water, which is a bad, bad place to be.
Asbestos rope isn’t something you can buy at Home Depot anymore, but it’s fire and heat resistant stuff; great for industrial work, like in a sugar mill.
You can see why so few products had bright packaging. If the can here was brown, you’d never see it in a dark wood cabinet.
Where staff could sleep.
If it weren’t for the fact there were trees growing from it, and that I cropped out the end of the rail approach, one might think this is still used occasionally.
Pointing a light at my camera from down Miller Creek Drain. Do you see the scale of it? It’s huge!
The sun sets in front of a huge concrete building—about four times the size of the power plant. Probably a corn storage bin from an ethanol operation that ran here in the 1980s.
Looking at the ghost sign from a rust-locked cement conveyor that linked the silos with a packing warehouse.