On the left is the broken glass room that contains the controls for the cable spool, now gone, that sat in the metal shell on the right. The stairs led down to the hoisting engine itself. You can make out the slits where the cable ran up to the headframe tower through the gaping archway.
One thing I like about the oppressive globalist-wrought future is the idea of numerically subdividing spaces; my geek side sort of wants to live in a flat that can be sorted by as Dewey Decimal-like code.
The working end of the blast furnace, where molten metal would flow like lava out of the furnace… a process called ‘tapping’.
The old movie theatre sign was sitting right inside the sealed front doors.
I assume this sign used to sit near the highway that snakes around the mine and town.
When it became “Hyde Park Hospital”, this portico was added onto the front.
A sort of blender in a powder line building. The top vent had been removed, so leaves and light fall onto the teeth now.
A vintage X-Ray machine in the oldest section of the hospital.
Much of the milling equipment predated the mill itself, so I would not be surprised if this particular machine really dates to 1860.