It was a crisp, clear January morning in the Sumner foothills of Mount Ranier. The majestic glacier-crowned mountain watched in powerful silence, as the small towns, clustered at its base, slowly awoke to another beautiful Northwest morning.                                                                           

The casual dinner guests and enthusiastic insulator 
collectors receive a welcome filled with electricity!

Possibilities for the upcoming appointment turned over and over in my head, while my friend Pete navigated his sedan through the drowsy morning streets of Puyallup, Washington. In the back seat behind us, Nola relaxed, quietly humming to a popular tune playing on the sound system. This would be the second time we had visited the Powerhouse Restaurant & Brewery. Would the interview go well? I would certainly be allowed to photograph the artifacts, wouldn't I? What if the Saturday morning staff had not been advised of my impending visit? I resolved not to worry. Then I smiled, reliving the first time Pete and Nola had taken me there for lunch. The whole visit had been a well planned surprise. Blown away by the brass and glass electrical equipment, I had excitedly declared that I would soon return for pictures and the story of this vintage collection. 

Puget Sound Electric Railway Company had built the Puyallup substation in 1907 to provide power for the southern leg of the Interurban Electric Trolley, connecting Seattle to Olympia. By 1957 the obsolete facility had been reduced to a storage warehouse and was ultimately vacated by Puget Power in 1969. A Tacoma architect, named Dusty Trail, with a penchant for preserving the past, had a couple of ideas for the neglected ruin when he purchased it at public auction in 1994. 

Inspired by Ed Sellberg --- a friend and well known Vancouver, WA, insulator collector --- Dusty transformed the decrepit hulk into a breathtaking electrical museum. This million dollar renovation gave birth to the Powerhouse Restaurant & Brewery, in August of 1995. It was this monument to Puget Power which had so energized me one Saturday afternoon in April of 1999. 

Just after the rail crossing, Pete turned right into an empty and freshly painted parking lot, took a space near the street and turned the engine off. Braced by a startling rush of cold winter air, I returned to the present, climbed out of the open passenger door, and readied my camera to snap some quick shots of the insulators along the railroad tracks by the parking lot. Unfortunately that was not to be, as Mother Nature had other plans for me.

Showcase of colorful glass and porcelain pin type 
insulators flanked by strings of suspension disks.

Three strands of a dozen carnival Pyrex suspension insulators
 hang dramatically from the large ceiling beams.

Brass and copper meters mounted on the walls, glass encased 
gauges and highly polished switches in every direction.

Suddenly, I was sitting on the tarmac. I wasn't sure what had happened, until Pete stoically explained the phenomenon of black ice. "This is, after all, Washington-In-Winter", he said carefully. As I rubbed my bruised pride and checked for anything broken, I decided that the outdoor pictures could wait until after the interview.

As I gingerly headed off toward shelter from the cruel ice, I admired two prominently placed electrical relics, guarding the parking lot. One huge gray oil-damped switch wearily declared from its weather worn enamel plate, "CAUTION May Explode Upon Impact." The other, a large ribbed transformer, announced the street address in dark gray spray-painted lettering, and declared that this was the Powerhouse Restaurant & Brewery.

Magnificent glass supports for the balcony filled with tables.

Pete takes in the view of the restaurant's 
displays from the balcony level.

Looking up, I was taken once again by its striking facade. The building engineers, Stone and Webster, had erected all of the century-old Puget substations using a hard and beautiful, dark crimson brick from Far West Clay, in Clay City. Huge through-wall bushings, high on the building's side, stared down at us like great empty eyes as we carefully crossed the icy parking lot. The massive tubes were ringed by intricate raised brick collars. Distinctive brickwork arches of window and door added historic strength to the venerable power station. Ascending a short flight of brick steps, I noticed two inverted porcelain station standoffs, filled with recently sifted sand, flanking the entrance. The Powerhouse would not open for another hour and a half, but as I had hoped, the weekend staff had remembered to leave the front door open.

Stepping inside, onto the hardwood plank flooring, I immediately felt the old weight and quiet power around me. I could almost smell the hot steel and machine oil and feel the vibration in my feet of the huge turbines that spun out the electron life blood of industrial expansion, so many decades ago.

The clang of stainless steel cookware echoed from a kitchen, beyond the glass display case on my right, while Nola, Pete and I took in the incredible assortment of artifacts displayed in the entryway. There were brass and copper meters mounted on the walls, glass encased gauges and highly polished switches in every direction. Needing to see everything at once, yet loathe to tear my eyes away from each relic, my gaze lingered for just a moment on a glass display case full of insulators, high on the left wall. To my right a brightly colored chalkboard cried out the Lunch Special, while all around it fantastic old DC measuring devices, rheostat boxes and assorted electrical treasures, rested quietly in comfortable retirement. Pete led the way, as Nola and I moved through the reception area into the ground floor dining room, where I was astounded by the vast array of electrical treasures.

Seeing the full panorama of the main dining area open before me was a vision that will stay with me forever. I found myself surrounded from above and on all sides by a terrific assortment of glass and porcelain insulators, custom cut steel, and copper industrial art pieces in the shape of the Powerhouse's lightning bolt logo. Along the wall to my right were scores of electrical measuring devices, indicators, surge arrestors, and warning signs. To top it all off, the designers had placed a 12,000 volt Jacob's Ladder in the center of the wall, complete with two 10-foot long electrodes reaching toward the ceiling. I just knew how cool it would look with a sizzling arc of juice climbing toward the roof.

Securely anchored in the massive, rough-hewn redwood beams, thirty feet above, were three long strings of Ed Sellberg's signature suspension disks. Flanking the bar to my right, and at various points throughout, I saw huge glass station posts supporting tables and railings. Behind the bar all of the beer-pulls were adorned with a colorful assortment of pony insulators. Ahead of me on a dividing partition were more glass communication pieces. Everywhere I looked, generously proportioned booths were highlighted by strings of twinkling lights strung between power insulators. Near the far end of the bar, before me, an industrial strength steel stair ascended to a landing, switched back, and rose to the balcony level where the spectacle of glass and porcelain seemed, from my vantage point, even more impressive. 

Were I to continue this story for a few more pages, to describe our tour of the balcony and the absolutely fantastic dining experience that Pete, Nola, and I shared that Saturday morning, I might leave you with little reason to visit the Powerhouse for yourself. So this is where I stop. For those of you who may never have the opportunity to visit Washington I hope that the pictures will finish the story for me.

To those of you fortunate enough to find yourself in or near the greater Seattle-Tacoma metropolitan area, and to those of you who are lucky enough to get to the Enumclaw show, I heartily recommend taking the rare opportunity to drive down Main Street Puyallup and stop into the Powerhouse Restaurant & Brewery for a jolt of cold Amperage-Amber microbrew and a sizzling slice of Circuit-Breaker Pizza. Or, if you like something less electrifying, perhaps the Lime Chicken Salad or the Smoked Salmon Pasta with a Meridian Chardonnay, or may be a Bleu Cheese Mushroom Burger, or maybe...