One thing I like about the oppressive globalist-wrought future is the idea of numerically subdividing spaces; my geek side sort of wants to live in a flat that can be sorted by as Dewey Decimal-like code.
After climbing the elevator shaft to the illusive second level, a new pallet of colors were revealed.
The interior of one of the curved corridors that connect two wards. Note the original floor’s hand-laid tile pattern. Portra 160.
Originally, this part of the dock was reserved for the weather station.
Looking down into the lunch building of an Atlas D, near the motors for the retractable roof. In this design, the roof separates to allow the missile to be erected into launch position.
The right passageway is a carved staircase that winds upward to an old entrance. The left portal is one of the bigger and well-carved rooms… I would guess it’s part of the original caves.
The old truck scale sits in the middle of what was Nettleton Avenue Slip.
The roof could be vented when locomotives were running inside.
A wimpy crane by most standards, only suitable for moving around parts of steam turbines.