All around Los Angeles, where we have the city owned Department Of Water And Power, you see smallish buildings which I presume are power distribition centers, and they always look like fortresses. They generally have massive thick walls and narrow windows, and what look like solid bronze doors.
Why are they built that way? Is it to protect valuable contents within, or to protect stupid people without from blundering in and harming themselves?
The answer is yes to both questions. Not to mention that the buildings come complete as one building which is trailered into location. They are sturdy, weather tight, and “relatively” inexpensive.
Here in NC they are surrounded by chain link fencing and open to the elements. Perhaps they are using buildings from a bygone era?
WAG here, LA has Earthquakes so needs stronger protection than NC.
We have the same here.
They’re done that way to stop you and me from going in and smashing everything into a million billion pieces, thus rendering a large area power-free and (incidentally) blowing ourselves into orbit too.
UK ones tend to be open-air, surrounded by fiere-looking fences with razor wire etc., and plenty of big warning signs to keep out. And a gate held shut by a flimsy padlock :rolleyes:
Wanna goof around in those places? See what happens!
Do not click on this link if you are scared of electricity going nuts - You’ll pee your pants.
A few years ago a kid climbed the fence (including barbed wire) into one of those places on a dare from his friend. Considering he knocked out power to most of the city, I don’t think there was much of him left.
A further reason: risk of fire and damage from within. A lot of these substations, etc., have truly frankensteinian machinery inside, complete with very high voltage, oil-filled circuit breakers that could, if they malfunctioned, burst into flames, and ten-foot-high spinning rotary inverters. I highly recommend the book, New York’s Forgotten Substations: The Power Behind the Subway, which documents the (mostly now demolished) substations via photos and technical drawings.
Here in Saudi Arabia, they are in robust concrete enclosures, place about fifty centimeters from the edge of the highway.
Each one is a death trap.
My friend Chris P., the author/photographer, will be glad to know you like his book. It was his labor of love for several years. (He’s working on a similiar new book, with a different theme.) You can view his original photographs at the NYC Transit Museum in Brooklyn as part of the Subway Centennial.
In addition to the reasons cited, I would add that utility buildings were built that way as a matter of style. In the golden age of civic public improvement building, roughly the first half of the 20th century, structures were purposely designed to say something, not just do something. Courthouses, libraries, hospitals, schoolbuildings, etc. looked a certain way for a reason.
One undercurrent that was very present in the culture was a sense of civic pride. This, I suspect, was one reason the OP’s utility structures were so overbuilt. Unlike today, electric power, clean running water, sewer lines and the like were the benchmarks of New World civilization. Municipalities (and the utility companies they would hire) were very proud of the trappings that showcased them. Sure, a building may only house a few big valves or switches, but that building represented progress when it was built. They wanted people to know that.
Here in the Bay Area power substations tend to be open to the air, with tall razor wire fences to keep out the dumbasses. We’re no less prone to earthquakes here than in LA, so that explanation doesn’t hold.
I agree with what stuyguy said. In Sydney, older installations (from the 1920s and earlier) are VERY solid but small brick buildings with tiny, high up windows. They look like a cross between a private house and a Victorian prison. They also look very official and substantial. Some of them even have tiny lawns (just a few square feet of grass) which are maintained by the municipalities. They certainly have style, and it is clear they were a symbol of pride and progress - above the door in relief is a cement rendered sign “AD 1923”.
Conversely, the modern ones are open air with a chain link fence and warning signs everywhere.
Tell him kudos for me. It’s fascinating, and I can’t even begin to imagine the number of hours he must have put in. I don’t have it handy–did he do all of the technical drawings, too?
I believe so. Chris was trained as an architect. (Some of the old drawings may be from the subway archives, however. I don’t have the book handy either to check.)
The book has a fascinating history. Chris was wandering home to his Brooklyn apartment one evening when he spotted an odd old building with workmen inside. He was from Massachusetts and was unfamiliar with subway substations. He chatted with the guys who steered him to the top dog of the whole MTA electrical system. After getting a tour of a few of their facilities Chris was hooked. He taught himself photography, bought a pro camera set-up, snagged a book deal and set off shooting all that amazing soon-to-be-extinct hardware.
Toad, I saw Chris tonight. I told him your remarks. You made his day.