I assume this sign used to sit near the highway that snakes around the mine and town.
A staircase leads behind three of the dock chutes, seemingly to nowhere. The lower on the left held one end of a string of lights above the dock.
On the second floor of the former carpentry shop, originally the delivery wagon shed.
Shadows of the skylights form a backdrop for rust-welded machines.
The main shaft’s cable spooled with bird castings belies the fact that lives used to dangle from its steel-wound strength. Arrows on the circles would indicate the mine level the cars were currently at.
Imagine the voice of an entitled White suburban mother. She’s now talking about oral hygiene in the “urban” (Black) schools.
Above the old machine shop is a packing building and a crate of cardboard label rolls.
Spare blankets still sit in the bottom of the dresser drawer.
This is the building with the water tower on top, full of Barcol stuff that did not sell at auction and not worth the trouble to scrap.