Looking through the an access panel at the hoist room for Shaft No. 3. The cable had long ago been scrapped, along with the motors to drive the pulleys. I still admire the workmanship on the spool’s arching metal shell.
Many outdoor areas of the plant have become unofficial city dumps. The skeleton doesn’t care.
The St. Louis County Sheriff constantly patrols the property looking for trespassers.
To get more light into the wards, the building was narrow and had angular rooms, often staff space, perpendicular to the main hallway.
Two of the remaining four towers in the projects. Throughout our time there we saw and heard squatters inside and chose not to go in. What do you call a smart choice made in the midst of a dumb choice? There should be a word for that.
Looking at the side of 4B from the roof of its car shed.
Hunter and the Hoist House.
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 pockmarked concrete sign of Substation #2 over the control room that faces the highway.