Ammunition had to be tested on site before shipment. That was done here. These heavy concrete bunkers deflected rounds harmlessly into the earth.
What time is it?
Another ruined spiral staircase in the mill.
The hole in the floor, I like to joke, is a not-so-sneaky trap for the photographers creeping to get a close-up of the amazing peeling paint. I somehow escaped this snare, however, to warn the rest… perhaps you.
The old hotel doesn’t like to show its age. Indeed, if it had a few paint job and soft remodel it would be fit to open–that is, if there was a need for it in this tiny rural New York town.
One of the few doors.
The playground used to be near the school which is now in ruins.
The outside of Whiting Mine, as it looks today.
The dock is still lit at night and it casts shadows over the rust-welded ore doors.