Can I ask how? or is that a secret (or already on here???)
I though I might have already told this tale in brief somewhere, but here goes:
(1980) In Wildwood NJ, there was a large club that was a converted theater-in-the-round called The Playpen. (About 3,500 capacity) It was part of an area known as Diamond Beach, which included an amusement pier/water
park, a hotel, a restaurant, and the club. Due to a trucking problem (drunk truck
driver) we arrived 4 hours before showtime with a
120k show to set up. The club was in the middle of a large vacant sand lot. The building was open but there was no one there except us. We had been told there was plenty of
power. I did a quick recon. There was a
transformer pad outside the building that
fed a 1930s vintage
fuse based distribution panel that was in a locked cage. The so-called
tie in point was a 200x3 panel with no
cover that also provided branch circuits to the
stage area. All three main lugs were stripped out. Next to it was a box that
fed a 60hp
electric motor that drove what looked like a v8 engine that was actually the
compressor for the AC. The third option was a very large pull box. I removed the lid and found (STEVETERRY will cringe) a large
Bakelite block with four large copper terminals. On the input were lugs
fed with doubled up 4/0 copper. This
fed (un-fused) a pile of 2
gauge wires that went out through
conduit to feed other panels in the building. OK, this was a code nightmare, but would work as a
tie-in point. I installed a 200 amp
disconnect with cam
tails for our equipment, but made a firm decision not to tie into this pile live. As the cage was locked and the pole
switch feeding the transformers was not, I threw the pole
switch and then went about finishing the job. That went well, but just as I was putting the last screw back in the pull box
cover, I heard screaming that went something like this:
"Who (forty expletives) turned off the (more expletives)
power to my (more expletives) hotel??"
I saw a man storming his way toward my area. His
face was not only the color of a strawberry, it had the matching texture! I quickly darted out the back door and threw the pole
switch back on, then reentered to
face my execution. There was no real attempt at debate, I just kind of let it pour on me, interrupting only to say "yes sir" at each pause.
What I had missed on my overview were several large pipes in the middle of the
transformer pad that served as underground conduits to feed the hotel, the restaurant, and yes, even the amusement pier. Me bad!
The show was there for the full summer. About two days later, the owner (a retired PA senator) invited me to dine with him. (I was half expecting him to feed me then take me out back and shoot me.) He actually apologized and treated me to a great surf & turf meal! (Amazing what a few sold out shows will do to a man's disposition.)
The hardest part was listening to the crew recount the story hundreds of times over the course of the next few years! Interestingly, when we returned the next summer, there was a nice
company switch waiting for me. ( picture of show taken 2 nights later
http://witness.velmadinkley.com/pics2/pp001.jpg )