The machine stood the Atlas missile up vertically over the blast pit, launching position, once the roof opened.
The generator room was state of the art when it was installed, allowing the complex to use motors and electric lighting ahead of its competitors.
From the door where mine carts were dumped into the Concentrator, the erosion around the former Santiago Tunnel on Treasure Mountain is obvious. The rails barely connect to the ground anymore.
I wanted to see the third floor to get a better view, but the third floor had already been demolished. The old walls had cascaded down the staircases. This building is gone, now, as you can expect.
Rubber dock boots still sits under the desk in the dock office, near keys to rusted locks and files of fired employees.
This picture typifies the industrial ideal of the early 20th century. More metal than air. More efficiency than beauty. More profits than people.
“But everyone I used to know was either dead or in prison So I came back to Minneapolis this time I think I’m gonna stay” -Tom Waits
This was taken before the top of the docks really started to rot-out; now this stretch past the crane is distinctly unsafe to cross. Still, you can’t beat the view of Dock #2 winding into the distance, where the approach is chopped-off before the yard used to extend.
The annex casts a long shadow over its old headhouse and the former UGG (currently Vitera C) elevator. Arista 100.