The shaft house, where hydraulic steel doors allowed or denied entry into the mine shaft. Overhead is a light and alarm. If it sounds, the mine is being evacuated, and you best not go in and best stay the hell out of the way. Locals dump tires here, now.
The only way to get to the second floor–since demolition crews punched-out the staircases and ladders leading upwards–was to climb this elevator shaft. In the lower-left corner is a blower for the foundry furnaces.
A splash of pink across an otherwise boring sign caught my eye in the old elevator.
Note that the back of Stockhouse #4 is missing. A year later, Fermentation was on the ground too.
The well-worn chair in one larry’s operator cab, next to an overgrown coke battery.
This strip of lights over where the closed body assembly line would curve around indicated the status of the line in terms of yellow, white, and red lights.
The cladding on the 1926 elevator is beginning to submit to the high velocity prairie winds.
In an era where smoking was ubiquitous and sexy, smoking stations had to be a part of the job, even at an explosives factory.