In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
The stonework was done by a local handyman of sorts, who was also a guard at a nearby insane asylum. He did a great job, it seems to me.
In a now-demolished building, a skylight begins to separate.
Even without the kettles the Hamm’s brewhouse is beautifully lit, ornamented architecturally and begging for photographers to remember it.
A view of the government presses, with pages of law across the floor covered in footprints.
Not ghosts. Slow-moving explorers’ shadows create a ghostly effect in the ‘Old Ward’–the second floor of the Service Building.
I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.
The buildings were level with one another, so one could look through as many as a dozen factory floors from one window.
Looking out the second-floor lighthouse office window. On this visit, the last ice of the season was slowly drifting into the harbor.