After a religious conversion from actors to projectors, a rebranding was in order.
Much of the circa-1950s buildings remain with few alterations, such as these long boring sheet metal ruststicks.
The Comm Room’s portals once supported many more conduits.
A sign in the desolate cafeteria.
Island Station, in the middle of the power house, in the middle of a thunder storm. Flapping pipe covers and sheets of ran penetrating one massive arched window and blasting through the other, as winds power through the building from the Mississippi. The sound of the thunder made every length of steel squeak under the pressure.
A quick vertical panorama taken on my back at the sweet spot of a great summer sunset. On the skylight is the torch-cut catwalk that used to link the outside of the smokestacks that vented the cupolas.
No wonder the factory shut down; everyone was scheduled to work 9 to 5 and the clock’s broken! (In all seriousness, this is/used to be a beautiful timepiece, especially for a utilitarian factory like this.
Looking from the mill at the old transfer elevator’s steel tanks.
This mean-looking thing had a purpose, probably, but that function has been lost to decades of expansion.