Little more than scrub brush grows where hot coke used to get doused before being sent into the blast furnaces, but that’s not what I went there to see. Outside Chicago’s most remote ghettoes are the ruins of ACME Coke, now two smokestacks, two three towers and a pile of firebrick. Check out what it used to be.
A ghetto factory could be a factory in the ghetto, or a factory that produces ghettos. This is a little of both, straight from East St. Louis, courtesy of the texture of moldy bricks, the smell of burning tires, and the sound of broken glass being walked on echoing down a long dark hallway.
Rockford, for many reasons has the look and feel of the Indiana rustbelt, an element anchored at a place that used to have a sign reading ‘BARCOL’.
In economics, one hand doesn’t wash the other; it chops the other right off. Local politics collides with global economics, draining this mega-factory of its profitability. Doors close, and a middle-class neighborhood built on chocolate confections suddenly gets much leaner.
Coffin factory funerals are not often so solemn. Read why this famous furniture factory closed after 160 years and see how it looks today.
Daydreaming on the highest catwalk of a decaying, mostly demolished and nationally historical steel mill is… To hear the wind running like lost cats through the burned and rusted metal at sunrise is… A steel age safari–hunting a giant wire deer that haunts a riverside battleground.
The Champion Paper Mill opened in 1893 and closed in 2012. It was Ohio’s biggest paper mill, now it’s the emptiest. Take a page from the pulp belt, fire up your iPad, and see what a 50 acre industrial graveyard looks like.
Buchanan was a company town unwilling to grow with its company. Then, after almost 100 years, that company left. How a rust belt city put on–then taken off–the proverbial map. Michigan edition.
Clyde Iron Works made the highest capacity cranes in the world in Duluth, decades after the industrial town got rusty. Then, a few years ago most of the complex was demolished to make room for a hockey rink. The machine shop is now a bar and grill.
This Duisburg sintering plant is world famous as an industrial ruin; I couldn’t pass it by.
Climbing that ladder let me see through the steam, by the orange light of the sunset dumping through the sooted skylights like the shop lights on the dead crane. It had been a while since it lifted a locomotive off its chasis, but the smell of grease was still strong enough to lubricate my sinuses