The private bathroom for the staff in this building was simple. As blue paint peels away from the yellow undercoat, islands emerge and grow.
When you’re incoming’s piling up with paint chips, what’s one to do? Call in a sick?
Behind one of the kitchens is one of the few pieces of furniture remaining. Beside it, a small electric space heater–small by 1970s standards.
One of my favorite pictures of the tunnel. I am holding a bike rim and wearing a headlamp. My friend triggered the flash just behind my lower back. The fog is a temperature inversion at the entrance of the tunnel; it was 102 degrees outside of the tunnel and about 50 degrees inside, and humid.
Below the main stage are some of the older (I will guess 1940s) theater seats, along with an assortment of old screens.
Seating in the former top balcony is now front row for a secondary stage above and behind the main house.
The primitive chair caught the falling plaster.
The well-worn chair in one larry’s operator cab, next to an overgrown coke battery.