The Factory

It's evening, the suits are debating the pro's of profit and cons' of loss.
The workers have gone home, exhausted, after lining the suits pockets once again. (Or so its perceived!) But one caring minion has stayed behind to record images of his factory's life.
He loves this place, the smell of production oil and the sound of arc welding. The thud of a press, the grind of the rolling mill. But most of all the people in it. The characters, the hardliners, the die for you hearts of gold and the history that oozes out of every tired muscle, grimy corner, oil stained floor, weld spatter, nut, bolt and knackered tool.
From the production of steam locomotive wheels of the Edwardian age to the modern age, Grand Father Son and Grandson have and still do work here. You will have gathered by now, just how much respect this one minion has for his overalled comrades.
There is hope. After all this is The Peoples Republic of South Yorkshire!