A small bunker and blast wall between shell-loading buildings would have provided shelter during disasters, such as tornados, accidental explosions, and perhaps even enemy attacks.
Many outdoor areas of the plant have become unofficial city dumps. The skeleton doesn’t care.
The sidewalks are littered with rocks.
One of my favorite shots from that year, conveyor line parts stacked and hung with Postal Service bins from decades ago.
Soft rain on Vulcan’s ashy pyre… Both of these peaks are dead volcanos, too hard to be totally washed away by storms. As a result, they seem to rise dramatically from the flat valley.
What you see is not a crack in the floor, but a long vine extending ten feet onto the shop floor, as if reaching in to escape the wind and rain.
The steam plant could be vertically traversed with this one-man belt driven elevator.
The small door leads to the offices, the large door leads to the shop. My back at this time is to the corrugated steel wall. At the time I wondered why there was just one steel wall, not knowing that 40 years before there was another spot for an engine here. This section of the roundhouse has become a sort of town dump–car seats, cans of paint and tires are piled into its corners.
The roof has been replaced since this was taken. Hopefully, that will stem the water damage.