Spring melt flows down the rusty rock house. In the background is the frame for the shaft.
This building would store and maintain warheads. It was right next to the launch pad, but the two were separated by a high mound.
Where the bricks jumped and wood followed, water runs amok.
At sunrise the fog rose near the solvent recovery line. You can barely read the “XXX” warning.
The roof was in bad shape, but too beautiful to avoid. This is the spot were I used to study medieval Latin.
“GREETING FROM BEAUTIFUL GARY–WISH YOU WERE HERE!” My postcard shot.
A midwestern jungle surrounds the meat packing plant.
From a distance (here, Union Yards), you can still see ARMOUR spelled out on the smokestack in white brick.
The orange bars were secured to the tunnel walls to support electric lines for the mine carts. Lower parts of the sand mines were allowed to flood. The water was perfectly still, and made for a mud so thick it could suck off your boots.