This is the far interior of the hotel, where the darkness made the shag carpet seem to move whenever the trees outside swayed. That is to say, constantly.
As the Barker steamed past the dock and island, the sunset casts the shadow of the Taconite Harbor receiving trestle on the boat. Through the fog, you can see some of the islands that were joined into a breakwater.
Looking out from what little remains of the second floor at the poor house, which was in terrible condition. No roof and no floors. Soon to be ruins.
Artifacts from the days this was a furniture factory and warehouse.
Note the wood and rubber wheels on this powder cart.
I like to imagine this as an old-timey radio microphone.
A high-ceilinged room where kegs would be delivered for cleaning, before they were refilled with fresh booze.
Below the factory floor is a network of hallways and tunnels, all flooded with water.
The incinerator’s hardened steel door… useless, but still sexy in a heavy-industrial kind of way.