Looking out the finishing end of the sintering plant at a network of torched-off catwalks through a maze of rust and asbestos. Paradise.
A little sheet metal box somehow made it back home.
Whoever did this: good job. You get it.
One level below where the cotton was nitrated, the fumes must have been powerful. This floor had several massive ventilation fans in its walls.
Some small candles light one of the few surviving tunnels that once linked buildings on the campus with the steam plant. In winter, it was common for patients to be transported through these to avoid the cold, and during the Cold War these served as nuclear fallout shelters.
“Dale Rossetter ’54”. Brick Graffiti Series.
Looking out of a door to nowhere at the fiery sky above.