Austin, Texas, is blessed with a large array of antique shops, and my brother Ben, the insulator collector, and I frequently explore them seeking insulators and other treasures. A little over a year ago we found something that we weren’t looking for — a pen and ink drawing of insulators.

On this day we were browsing in a small antique mall which had formerly been a nursing home. Its two long hallways, with small rooms along either side were well-suited to displaying bygone treasures, and while Ben scouted for insulators (a usually futile activity), I was elsewhere checking out the vintage fabrics. Pretty soon Ben called me to come look at something. I thought he’d found an insulator, but no, his discovery was a neatly framed drawing of a lineman working with insulators on a telephone pole. It looked old, but the price was beyond the budget we devoted to insulator collecting. After admiring it awhile, we left to explore other antique shops around town.

On the next visit to the shop, Ben went first to the room with the insulator drawing, before he made his usual rounds. I followed after him and we gazed at the picture much as art patrons do in a museum or gallery. The stark simplicity of the black and white drawing was beginning to win me over, and I grew to like it as much as Ben did. This ritual continued for several months, until one day the picture was missing from its usual place. Upon enquiry, we learned that the dealer had moved, and we didn’t request his name because we weren’t specifically in the market to buy. We thought that was the end of that.

Wrong! A month or so later we visited an antique shop on the other side of town. It was filled with an eclectic mix of antiques and collectibles from every time period, all in one or two huge rooms. And, way in the back, leaning against a wall, was “our” insulator drawing. It was sitting on the floor, behind some table legs, and probably noticed by no one but us. The art appreciation pilgrimages began anew. Whenever the dealer, whom we had never met, moved to another section closer to the front of the store, we found the drawing leaning against a chest near the aisle, poised to trip us, or something. But, we just silently admired it and left it sitting there.

We hadn’t ventured back to south Austin for several months, when the urge struck us on the afternoon of December 31, 1994. It was the usual insulator-seeking mission, but when we went into a particular shop, I noticed that someone was packing up to move out. In one of the dealer’s boxes was “our” drawing, so I asked about it. He said it had hung in his home more than twenty years, but had been given to his wife’s mother by a friend many years ago. He thought is was done in the 1930s, probably in Illinois.

He introduced us to his wife, and Ben whipped out his color photos of his insulator collection which he always carries along for educational purposes. The couple were amazed at the varieties of color and style among insulators, and admitted that they knew little about them. They were in the process of moving out so they could display in shows, rather than staying in one place. If we had missed them that day, we would have lost track of the drawing forever. Perhaps...

Pen and Ink by Ned Brown

We told them how we had admired the drawing at several different locations. The wife said: “Make us an offer.” So, we did. Now the insulator drawing hangs in our home amidst the insulator collection where it most undoubtedly belongs.