A 24-hour clock that reeks of the 1970s. A ladder stenciled “LTV”–the failed steel company that built this dock. There is more, if you look closer.
A control panel that was mothballed, anticipating a time when the plant may be reactivated.
Before developers saw to cut and cut the flour mills inside Pillsbury, they stood at the ready beside various purposeful chutes the traversed the floors of between sorters. These machines were belt-driven by the power of Pillsbury’s Mississippi headraces and turbines, the force of which notoriously shook the building’s foundations themselves. The wheels would change the grade of the flour, or the size of the dust produced from crushing the kernels.
“The fresh snow mixed indistinguishably from the ashes of the half-demolished power plant.”
The alley-mounted fire escape is long gone, but lamps over the bricked-up windows and a dark outline show how it zig zagged.
Looking through skylights of the payroll office toward the Cheratte No.1’s tower. This is where workers would wait in line to receive pay, surrounded by the mine workings.
A US Army Corps of Engineers tug, tied at the end of the pier before the American Victory was parked here.
It would be a shame if this building is not preserved. Word is (as of 2015) that construction may start on this section soon.