The Engine House’s boiler, which would have been fired all day all day, virtually from the day the shop opened until the day it closed.
The pitch of the roof is more typical for areas with lots of snow—not the border of Ohio and Kentucky. So, I assume this roofline accommodated some equipment inside for trains—note the tracks.
Looking through the dark door at Shaft 3, when my naked eyes could only make out a staircase lit dimly from above.
The tops of the coke stoves.
The long control room overlooks giant caps where equipment was removed long ago.
Away from the rest of the plant–as if forgotten, or hiding–is this little stamp press. Yes, this is little by press standards.
Wide stairs between the ground, the mine shaft, and the dry house.
Judging from old pictures and maps, raw ore was dumped through these hatches, stamped into a rough powder, and hastily sorted before sending the best ore to the mill. Mills charged by tons of rock sent to them, so it did not pay to send them obvious tails.