It all began back in 1976. The Nation was celebrating the bicentennial and I was a fourteen year old boy growing up in the East Texas town of Port Arthur. Other kids my age were interested in sports, girls or getting their driver’s license. I somehow became fascinated with insulators. From that first clear Hemingray 45 I bought at an antique store, I began to notice the old telegraph poles that ran along the railroad tracks around town. My mom would drive me to places that were too far to reach on my bike, to search for insulators.

I soon located the best places to look; along the Southern Pacific tracks I found H. G. Co. beehives. Maydwell-42’s in straw could be found on the Santa Fe. The Kansas City Southern Lines held Whitall Tatum No. 1’s in light aqua and tons of Brookfield beehives and hoopskirts perched along the Missouri Pacific. Most of the lines were being dismantled at this time so it was really easy to add to your collection. All you did was walk along the tracks with a bucket and pick out the ones you didn’t have. Crossarms, pins and insulators littered the ground along the Santa Fe tracks. I even picked up a sign that read SPORTSMEN: Please do not shoot at the wires. My dad was an electrician at one of the refineries, and he helped me put up a telephone pole in our backyard, using all the pole hardware we found. He also had the necessary tools to climb poles. One day while I was at school my dad climbed a line of poles west of town. The wires had been removed, so he didn’t think there’d been any problem taking the insulators. He had several boxes full of Brookfields and Hemingrays when the railroad police stopped him. They took down his name and phone number and said they would be contacting the district attorney. He was scared to death for several weeks but never heard anything. I guess they just wanted to intimidate him and it sure worked!

I also started looking for insulators on utility poles in the older sections of town. Glass insulators were used on the single wire circuit that connected the fire alarm boxes to the fire station. Back in the 1920’s when the fire alarm boxes were installed not many people had phones so if you had an emergency you had to run to the comer fire alarm box, open the door and pull down the hook. What transmitted the alarm was the clockwork gears and contacts opened and closed the circuit to designate that box. For Box 49 the alarm would sound four times, than nine times and repeat until the spring wound down, like an alarm clock. In the 1970’s the alarm boxes were being removed mainly because most of the alarms were false and were really a nuisance for the fire department. What was interesting was the insulators that were used on this line. Ink Blue and Cobalt Blue Hemingray 19’s, and purple H. G. Co. signals were found on the side brackets nailed to poles supporting the fire alarm circuit.

I rode all over town tracing this line through alleys and between buildings hoping to see one of these rare jewels. I had heard that dozens were removed in the 1960’s but I held out hope that at least one had been missed. Sure enough patience paid off. I was following the line down a shell road that lead to a trailer park. The last pole near the railroad track had something very mysterious on a side bracket near the top of the pole. It was definitely dark blue, almost black and I knew it was a CD 162. So could it be? An ink blue Hemingray 19 still in use after all these years? I was really excited with the discovery so I contacted local insulator authority Elton Gish, who lived in the next town. He photographed it with a telephoto lens and confirmed that it was indeed ink blue.

We discussed ways of possibly retrieving this gem but none materialized. The insulator was about sixty feet from the ground and about a foot below a 13,000 volt power line, so it would very difficult and dangerous to remove. I would frequently gaze up at the pole hoping to someday have this beautiful insulator in my collection. Little did I know that it would be another 19 years before this dream would come true.

A few years later other interests would take their toll on my insulator collection: high school, dating, cars and other things competed for my free time and limited cash. So the glass I once cherished were now collecting dust on shelves in my room. After graduation, the insulators were boxed up and stored in the garage. In 1985 I sold my collection to a dealer from California, Dee Willett for $300. I needed all the money I could get because I would soon be moving to Houston.

Ten years later I caught the insulator bug again. I guess when you’re in your thirties you look back at your life and become interested in things that were fun when you were a kid. I had the challenge of trying to put my collection back together again. I soon realized that it would take several thousands of dollars to replace the insulators I had sold for $300. The Muncie and Cooley were easy to replace. So was the cobalt blue Hemingray 19. But the one piece that eluded me was the ink blue. I heard they were being sold for several hundred dollars, if you could find one. I then remembered the one I dreamed of having some nineteen years ago.

My girlfriend Michelle and I made the trek back to Port Arthur just to see if the ink blue was still there. As we turned off the main highway onto the shell road and through the trailer park the suspense was incredible. Would it still be there? I looked at the same pole I used to gaze up at when I was a kid and there it was! After all those years it was still there! I couldn’t believe it. We immediately tried to come up with a way to capture this jewel. I knew we had to make contact with someone who worked for the utility company, someone with the equipment and training necessary to safely remove the insulator.

We finally decided to put an ad up on the bulletin board at the Union Hall for the utility workers. Within a few hours a lineman named Ralph called. I explained that I collected insulators and there was one that I really wanted for my collection. We met with him and showed him where it was, and discussed how much he wanted to do the job. He said he would get the necessary permission and call us back. A month went by and we hadn’t heard from him.

I finally got the nerve to call him. I couldn’t believe my ears when he said he climbed the pole the day before and removed it. We agreed to meet him at a gas station in a nearby town. I was literally shaking when he drove up. I handed him the money and his daughter pulled the insulator out of the glove compartment and gave it to me. I quickly looked it over and gave it to Michelle. I was too afraid of dropping it. As Ralph drove off he said he knew where he could get several more from another lineman. I shook my head in disbelief but told him to call if he found anymore.

We drove back to the trailer park and looked up at the pole and saw the clear Hemingray 17 that Ralph had put in the ink blue’s place. I did a thorough inspection of the insulator and found it to be ink blue with amber swirls in the skirt. It was in very good condition except for a small chip near the threads. I proudly put the ink blue on my display shelf and thought about the nineteen years it took to realize a dream.