Easier-to-demolish parts of the power plant were torched apart. Catwalks to nowhere meant lots of dead ends.
When the ship loaders were added, a doorway was cut through the metal silo to make a room for the grain handling equipment. Note the dust sensor in the corner of the torch-cut archway.
I wish I knew what has become of this great one-of-a-kind sign that used to brag how many days the Clyde Iron factory has gone without a serious accident. Update: It’s hanging in one of the smaller venue spaces behind the bar.
Work never done.
Because of the dangers of storing the materials to make explosives as well as the explosives themselves, there were earthen bunkers all across the plant like this.
They left and took their God with ’em. Doesn’t feel too empty without ‘im, though.
The top floor’s old-fashioned hospital ways were too much to pass without a photo or two… with the paint falling off the walls it was as if the building was shedding its skin in an effort to become rejuvenated or useful.
Someone had helped themselves to one of the safety posters before my visit.
The modern morgue, a replacement for the original morgue which has since been turned into a kitchen area.