The bottom of the elevator which seemed too modern for the building. The top of the elevator opens into open air, as the second floor has long since collapsed.
The wings of the church had a lot more water damage than the rest. The organ on the balcony was in decent condition when I arrived.
One of a few dozen steel bed frames left in the rubble of the collapsing building.
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.
Upper Prize Street in Nevadaville earned the nickname ‘dogtown’ when a pack of dogs took over the abandoned houses.
Office manners dictate that one must tip their file drawer back upright once it is knocked through the wall.
An old nurse’s station (you can tell because of the half-door with table) with torn-up tiles. Notice through the curved doorway that even the ceiling has a curvature.
Dr. Muchow’s offices stand near his ‘new’ mill, but they show evidence of vandalism.
In the corner of most of the factory floors, freight elevators flanked restrooms to leave more central space for machines and their masters.