Minneapolis was the home of the regional offices of the US Bureau of Mines, an organization founded in 1910 as part of the Department of the Interior. Bureau of Mines was founded in the wake […]

Minneapolis was the home of the regional offices of the US Bureau of Mines, an organization founded in 1910 as part of the Department of the Interior. Bureau of Mines was founded in the wake […]
Minneapolis was Mill City; flour mills and linseed mills dotted the landscape, and not just along the Mississippi River. To support the world’s biggest flour and linseed companies, a huge network of grain elevators were built by various interests just outside of the east bank’s industrial districts. I investigate these elevators and the factories immediately around them one by one. Welcome to Mill Hell.
The Harris Machinery property dates to 1870 when the Peteler Portable Railway factory built their factor here. Between then and now the tenants have changed a couple of times, but there’s still a little piece of Minneapolis that looks and smells just the same.
For Pillsbury to be abandoned in Minneapolis is like the Gateway Arch to be rusting from the inside out and passed by hundreds—unnoticing. This is Mill City, and this is the Mill of Mill City, and the people pass on, not even looking up to ask why these three square blocks on the river are the way they are.
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…
Wooden platforms traced the feather beds of steel horses, the worn boards faintly glowing orange from the polluted light filtering through ancient cube glass. “Good night, Minneapolis, sleep sweet.”
It’s an industrial lighthouse keeping watch over the Mississippi and its favorite city. Some read the flashing neon as “GOLD MEDAL FLOUR”. I read “REMEMBER”.