One of the only remaining pieces of equipment in the distilling room is this green control panel on a bridge suspended in the middle of it all.
A washout two thirds of the way down the tram gave me a place to relax in the thin air.
Shoes and booze, backstage.
Grain is taken from the bottom of the silos through a conveyor in a tunnel. These blowers keep the air in the tunnel fresh.
The women of the hospital made clothes for the other patients.
Kate for scale. Powder that passed the floatation level was flowed over sluice tables, another mass-based way of separating gold. I’ve never seen so many of these in one place. Though it was a hardrock mine, it worked more like a placer mine.
This picture typifies the industrial ideal of the early 20th century. More metal than air. More efficiency than beauty. More profits than people.
Robotic pincers to move molten rods of glass between machines.
Below the factory floor is a network of hallways and tunnels, all flooded with water.
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