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.
This miner locker room has probably never been so clean.
The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.
The incinerator’s hardened steel door… useless, but still sexy in a heavy-industrial kind of way.
A Merrill Piano from Boston, in the Recreation Room of the Front Dorm.
The wings of the church had a lot more water damage than the rest. The organ on the balcony was in decent condition when I arrived.
Sleeping bags mark this former courtyard as a crash pad for the local homeless.
Though it’s a little unclear what control station controlled what function, these levers seemed to relate to some of the bigger equipment inside the dredge, such as the trommel.
The iconic outline of a prairie sentinel. Quintessential rural industrial architecture.