Above my head while taking this picture was the seal of the Department of the Interior.
Gaskets still organized on nails beside the power plant. This used to be a maintenance room, but since its roof and walls were torn down, it’s not any kind of room.
Some small candles light one of the few surviving tunnels that once linked buildings on the campus with the steam plant. In winter, it was common for patients to be transported through these to avoid the cold, and during the Cold War these served as nuclear fallout shelters.
Near the old slag dump there are the remains of the pouring buckets that received the molten steel from the US Steel blast furnaces, filled to the brim with pig iron. They must be incredibly heavy!
Elsie finds her makeup brush across the hospital in the middle of the hallway. How did it get there?
Even with a hundred people parked in front of the lakeside relic, it was invisible.
A skyway 100 feet above this office crumbled one day. This is what happened when those two met. High-impact love.
One of the covered rail loading docks. All of them were overgrown and rust-clad.
Not ghosts. Slow-moving explorers’ shadows create a ghostly effect in the ‘Old Ward’–the second floor of the Service Building.