A private tuberculosis hospital outside the Twin Cities, preserved through reuse, resilient despite neglect.
I like abandoned things–factories, hospitals, schools–and now, I can add ‘abandoned kittens’ to that list. Oh, and here’s one of Minneapolis’ former animal feed mills, one that has roots back in 1916. Now, which do you think is cuter? Honestly, I’m torn…
The picture from 1919 says it all; when an F5 tornado rages through the town leveling everything around it, this flour mill stands, anchored to the river, indomitable.
Serving those who were turned away because of race and income, training generations of nurses, and now collapsing into the streets of St. Louis out of neglect. Now that raindrops freefall from the clouds above to the basements in the shadows without touching a floor, wall, bed or desk, it’s clear that this city lost an opportunity and a landmark.
Built in 1923 as a major terminal elevator, it would go on to have booms and busts. By ‘boom’, I mean, it had the nasty habit of exploding.
Do you like Art Deco style buildings? How about in a State Hospital from the 1930s? As I write, this old hospital is being turned into an assisted care facility–find out what came before.
North Dakota’s only public tuberculosis sanatorium served from 1912 to 1987. Since then it’s served thousands, but now it’s under demolition by neglect. What is that barbed wire hiding, anyway?
Duluth’s steel mill was all about moving production closer to raw product; instead of shipping ore via Dock 5 or Allouez the steel could be forged locally. While I explore the plant’s ruinous footprint, I talk about the history of the Duluth US Steel Mill from construction to demolition.
It was a hospital, not an insane asylum, they insisted. Starting in 1885, this Westborough mental institution was both and housed thousands at a time.