As sun set the car barn underwent a temperature inversion causing a dense fog to rise from the puddles where tracks once where. I opened the Yellowstone-sized doors and watched the bank roll out into downtown Mitchell.
The mill was powered, in part, by water flowing through turbines under it. After the flow worked the industrial heart of the flour mill, it was exit to the Mississippi here.
To get more light into the wards, the building was narrow and had angular rooms, often staff space, perpendicular to the main hallway.
A morning breeze pushes the last ice from the lake against Wisconsin Point.
90% of Brach’s looks like this. Concrete walls, mushroom pillars, and water over the floor.
The office for the maintenance shop was sound-insulated and ventilated.
Two charmers, I’m sure. This area was a coal pit for the nearby power plant.
Designed by Taylor himself, the spring house was the site of many parties in its day. You can imagine sipping fresh-tapped whiskey here with your Sunday clothes with soft music and the sounds of the river mixing in the background. Note the key-hole-shaped spring hole.
Fall fog swept up from the river valley, making the building look more like it felt–a ghost, out of time and place.
In what used to be a hallway under what used to be a skyway, each with what had conveyor belts for the grain that once was stored here. The fog doesn’t change.