This is one of the modern nurse’s stations where the last inpatients lived in the mid-2000s. The windows are thick shatterproof plastic. I am unsure why the suspended ceiling is missing.
Peering through the glass in the Hoist Operator’s cab, stained with graffiti. The cable and reels can be seen through the glass… these are now gone.
Rocket propellant and coolant were stored underground adjacent to the missile silo. This is the hallway that connects the missile area to the propellant area. Walking in this area was nice because the floor was dry.
Connecting the Administration building’s tower and top floors is this beautiful cast iron staircase. It was probably designed to help service the clock originally planned to be set in the tower, but when the hospital went over budget the state cancelled the timepiece. Now we are left with a gorgeous stair with little or no real purpose–not that I’m complaining. I am a long-admitted spiral staircase fetishist.
There’s a roof problem above the surgical suite.
The piano must have been a nice distraction; there is very little to do in Roberts.
This little curled yellow thing is one of the last hints that this adobe building was lived in.
The service window in the Administration Tower had seen some abuse, even if it wasn’t so old.
Here, the concentrated gold (and silver, and zinc, I would guess) would be loaded into trucks bound for the smelter.