In the brewhouse between the preheating tank and kettle room. The spiral staircase goes into a kettle annex where a few smaller stainless steel kettles hide. If you looked right from this frame you would see the bottom of one of the kettles like the bottom of a steel mixing bowl.
Indianapolis’ beautiful downtown is in the distance, past the gas storage tank.
In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
What time is it?
A window for light and air pokes above the big arch in the hallway. Most of the interior ceilings were broad brick archways.
An abandoned gatehouse bearing the name of the former factory.
Worm in the path of raw ore where it would be dumped from rock cars into the silo below.
It’s a mystery to me why this elevator has a Gold Medal Flour ghost sign. You can read it along with its obsolete monikers today.
Almost all of the doors and windows on the ground floor have been boarded, leaving the ground level very dark.