Shuttered windows on the side of one of the collapsing bonded warehouses.
Who knew that wallpaper could stick to dirt so well?
In the middle of the foundry, an office is untouched by scrappers, legal and not. Inside, warnings and catalogs for machines that are gone, obsolete, and melted down.
One of my favorite pictures of the tunnel. I am holding a bike rim and wearing a headlamp. My friend triggered the flash just behind my lower back. The fog is a temperature inversion at the entrance of the tunnel; it was 102 degrees outside of the tunnel and about 50 degrees inside, and humid.
This building looked like some sort of office.
Between the catwalks of Furnace 6, the molted ore would flow through the chute.
“This way,” then, “No, that way!”
The Atlas D command building. As Brutalist as it gets.
In the distance, the San Haven Sanatorium water tower.