The glow from the city is bright enough to read by.
Spring melt flows down the rusty rock house. In the background is the frame for the shaft.
An Old Crow warehouse, formerly federally controlled, near Old Taylor Distillery.
The bricks routinely fell from the walls, like seeds falling from trees. On a smaller scale, new walls grew from the floors.
Unit 4’s lower levels.
In the steam plant, steam pipes bundled in canvas and asbestos criss-cross the walls.
Between the Old Crow and Old Taylor bonded warehouses are some of the fouled barrels, now the only ones left, which were left to rot in the elements. Nearby in a loading bay that has obviously been disused longer than the rest of the property, terra cotta roofing waits in crates.
An original stencil-brushed sign.
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