The top floor of the apartment seemed so empty without the furniture that once adorned it. Instead, my eyes were drawn to the worn paths in the floor between the rooms.
The end of Dock 5 is warped and bent from a rail accident that left some ore cars swinging like a stringy wrecking ball into the end of the superstructure and accompanying stair. The stairs are still navigable, but it wasn’t recommended by the CN workers that were with me.
It seems someone planned on stealing the fridge, but gave up on the second floor.
The office was redder than the rest of the building.
The superstructure for the sea-leg skyways serves no purpose now… the offices are bricked up, too. Why?
Downtown and the blight.
A strange little staircase on the side of the orphanage puts the scale of the building in perspective. It’s big, by U.P. standards!
Wintertime is quiet, except for the planes overhead.