Through a section of the tailings boom where mountain winds tore open the sheet metal around the conveyor, I poked my head out.
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Scrappers tried to take this steel pulley out of Fisher, but it proved too heavy.
A pipe bracket seems to have rusted off of the ceiling.
Looking into the engine works from the concrete addition.
Raab strolling where the coal and ore would be dumped by trains that traveled along the top of the concrete pilings.
Most of the control panels were faceless. No doubt, they were parted out to keep other sugar mills alive.
This picture typifies the industrial ideal of the early 20th century. More metal than air. More efficiency than beauty. More profits than people.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
A bedroom, from the basement. The Dog Days are Over.
A facade that tells the story of demolition and neglect. The sign on the garage door indicates that if one finds themselves there, that they enter the buildings at their own risk. If only property owners in the US took this philosophy!