Coded writing on a pillar in one of the assembly buildings.
The primitive chair caught the falling plaster.
A portrait of the second school of McConnell, built in 1937.
Laundry chute to the basement, as seen on the top floor.
The most pointless, beautiful and nuclear-bomb-proof catwalk I’ve been on to date. It goes between two high levels in its own bottom-lit concrete capsule in the center of the tallest, thickest building. Hang on, we’re riding this one out.
Fermenters and mixing tanks fill this brewing room. The lighting is all natural, and is partially owed to a crumbling wall letting the sunset blast the interior in almost perfect profile.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
An original, minimally remodeled bathroom above the cafeteria reminds us what the whole complex once looked like.
The office building was fancy compared to the utilitarian factory behind it. My favorite part was the logo crown.