I like to imagine this as an old-timey radio microphone.
It was as noisy then as it is colorful now…
Iron becoming dirt becoming birches.
A closeup of a high window in Bunge.
The winch that hauled the sea leg, a decide to unload grain from waiting boats and barges.
Some guerilla art for passing drivers on I-94 East to enjoy. Artist unknown.
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.
A view from the loft in the shipping/receiving building, where the crane operator would step into his cab.
“See anything?” “No, just more of it.” “How much to go?” “Oh god–we’ve only seen about 10%.” “Guess we should keep moving then…”