Behind the small stage is a hallway signed by practically every act that walked through its doors. There’s also a pair of palms. Since all the heat in the building collects in this area, it did seem more tropical.
The roof was in bad shape, but too beautiful to avoid. This is the spot were I used to study medieval Latin.
The hospital was surrounded by walking paths that crisscrossed the front green, as it was called. Part of Kirkbride’s plan was to have ample opportunities for exercise outdoors–fresh air, especially cold fresh air, was thought to have curative properties.
The long control room overlooks giant caps where equipment was removed long ago.
Through a section of the tailings boom where mountain winds tore open the sheet metal around the conveyor, I poked my head out.
Shuttered windows on the side of one of the collapsing bonded warehouses.
The coal extractor swings back and forth, ripping coal from the ground and throwing it on a conveyor belt to be burned a few miles away.
The company headquarters. Abandoned last time I drove past it, though it is the classiest building in downtown South Bend.