The building on the right was where parts not assembled onto vehicles would be set in crates for shipment.
I was squatting overnight in one of the buildings and woke up with the sunrise. This is what I woke up to.
A wide view of the hallway behind the small performance space, covered in hundreds of names, aphorisms, and acts that walked up the stairs to the right and onto the small stage.
The lower door is where the rocket exhaust would flow into the blast pit during initial launch. The upper doors would vent the rocket so the erector and other equipment in the building would not be (as) damaged.
Sidewalks to a boarded barracks, each making the other obsolete in the night.
The projector booth, above the balcony in the auditorium.
Looking through the old brewhouse toward the Keg Wash House.
The small door leads to the offices, the large door leads to the shop. My back at this time is to the corrugated steel wall. At the time I wondered why there was just one steel wall, not knowing that 40 years before there was another spot for an engine here. This section of the roundhouse has become a sort of town dump–car seats, cans of paint and tires are piled into its corners.
This train shed was later converted to load trucks with concrete from the silos.