Every floor of the main hospital buildings had its own bathrooms. They often make obvious the fact that these buildings were intentionally built as permanent structures. Even a century after they were built, and several decades of total neglect, they were in fabulous condition.
This building would store and maintain warheads. It was right next to the launch pad, but the two were separated by a high mound.
The old No Trespassing sign, with the Peavey logo still on it.
A better view of the belt system that drives all the machinery in the plant.
The head distiller could walk out of their office to this balcony and overlook the whole fermentation process in a glance.
Looking through the an access panel at the hoist room for Shaft No. 3. The cable had long ago been scrapped, along with the motors to drive the pulleys. I still admire the workmanship on the spool’s arching metal shell.
The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.
I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.
Shuttered windows on the side of one of the collapsing bonded warehouses.