Because painted signs would not hold up in this spot–in between four ovens that were literally hot enough to melt steel inside. Solution: Cut the pipe labels into the sheet metal. Seems to have worked.
Inside the pilot copper concentrator.
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.
Some of the internal staircases were fitted with cages that wound round down the stairs to deter suicidal patients from taking a dive.
This bay would host boxcars as workers would fill them with the fruits of the factory.
Chutes from a hundred machines interconnect to more machines and chutes on a dozen factory floors.
The rear of engine bay 13… according to the heavily faded sign.
Hunter’s custom large format rig looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?
My favorite time to be in the brewery was sunrise. That’s the kind of light that made the brewhouse glow.