On the top floor of one of the old wards, the slanted roofline makes the this group room more claustrophobic. Portra 160.
The back of the mill reads “Red River Milling Company”
A social club/restaurant that was likely the place to be late at night.
Beautiful doors separated the boiler room and the sugar mill. Can you imagine the gracefully curving steps in a power plant today?
The sun lowered behind the dead flour mill, bending its image upon itself.
This is where the transformers were housed. Note the steel tracks in the floor for moving equipment around the building.
This part of the workhouse was sheathed in fiberglass, but now you can see its insides from a mile away.
In this old repair shop, vines fall from the rotting roof to meet mossy concrete. Even though it had been dry for days, water dripped in from the roof to make permanent puddles between workstations. It was full of color and sound and industry and nature.
A light-painted portrait of one of the few remaining carts that moved everything from fresh eggs to soiled laundry through the tunnels.