Giant Insulators

Sitting like a silent citadel surrounded by an ever-changing landscape, the Bonneville Power Administration (BPA) substation in Covington pumps out power ceaselessly day after day, year after year.

It has been a permanent fixture in Covington for as long as I can remember.  As a little kid, when trains plied the tracks next to the substation on a regular basis several times a day, I remember driving by the behemoth wondering what lurked inside.  The huge windows wherein you could see a monstrous crane, the myriad of cable, wire and steel pulsing with electricity, the helicopter that flew the skies  daily to check the status of the hundreds of miles of high tension wires, mammoth transformers sitting like giants in a pen of security, insulators bigger than a man that kept the electricity at bay like a lion tamer’s whip, a barbed wire fence surrounding the grounds with signs hung at varying intervals all gave indication of something massive, something intriguing, something dangerous and mysterious.  But there, day after day, calling to me, beckoning me to look inside sat the BPA substation. 

Then one day, I drove through the gate at the end of Wax road into the complex.  (Today that gate is sealed shut, blocked by huge blocks of concrete; no admittance.)  As a child, my parents took me on several tours of facilities to see how they worked.  The Rainier Beer Brewery, now gone.  The Sunny Jim Peanut Butter Factory, gone.  Weyerhaeuser sawmill, gone and many more.  So, here, in Covington, I wanted to tour something grand, something that had piqued my curiosity for years.  I drove to the front of the building and stepped inside. 

It was like stepping into an old monster movie.  Dials reading electrical output, wattage, amperage and other power related information.  Huge transformers, switches and machines.  Dazzling lights on display boards.  A room housing these items so vast it felt like you were inside a football stadium.  And, like every dam I’ve ever visited, a pristine environment housing it all.  A few workers sat around reading and monitoring machines and a man met me to talk.  I asked about taking a tour and he informed me that wasn’t possible.  I was disappointed.  I really wanted to learn more and see how this beast worked.  Electricity is fascinating and I wanted to ingest more information.  I left, still yearning for more. 

Today, those hopes are dashed due to the threat of terrorism and the like.  I don’t even think you can get into the complex anymore.  The gates are shut.  Access denied to non-employees. 

Yet, the substation continues to work, a vital link keeping Covington and many other cities running.  I wonder how much the inside of the substation has been updated with computers and other modern technology.  Does it still look “monstrous”?  Have they filled more of the open space with other instruments?  What has changed in the forty some years I’ve lived here?  If only I knew and had the power to change the forbidden zone of fascination into a learning experience.

For several years I worked for my father in his cleaning business and I distinctly remember cleaning one of those houses that sat about where the middle of the library parking lot now sits.  I remember driving by that area and seeing children playing, people going about their daily lives, cars parked in dirt driveways and life just happening.  When news that a library would be built there reached my ears, it was both exciting and disheartening. 

To see homes removed and progress taking over harkened the onset of an approaching city.  Eventually the homes were gone and the library stood in its place.  A few years ago it was completely remodeled. 

I must say it is a beautiful library and very convenient.  But to think back in time when Covington was just a dot on the map is always sobering.  Things will continue to change, but the memories will always live on.

For as long as I’ve lived here, I always remember the beautiful days in Covington.  The brilliant blue sky, the fresh air, the sounds of birds and small animals scurrying around, the smell of freshly cut grass, warmth from the sun; these are what I remember and enjoy. 

It’s no different today.  As I look out my window, the bright blue sky and warm February temperatures remind me of the beauty and enjoyment of living here.  It takes me back to a time when I was about ten years old.  It was summer.  I woke up to the sun streaming through my window.  My mom had the radio on and the song Leaving On a Jet Plane was playing.  I got up and the day was beautiful.  I played all day and enjoyed that summer sunshine.  That’s how I picture Covington, Washington.  I don’t think much about the rain and dreary days, it’s those bright sunny days that stick in my mind. 

And it seems we’ll have more just like today as our mild, warm winter continues.  Woo-hoo!  Sunshine in Covington!  Awesome!

I don’t remember why, but my dad had me ride with him and the neighbor to the hospital. Maybe it was for company.  I can’t recall.  I don’t remember much about the ride there and back either, but I’m sure we went to either Auburn hospital or Valley General.  (Now called Valley Medical)  Thinking about that made me consider how far Covington has come with regard to medical help.

Back then, those two hospitals were the closest medical facilities in the area.  Since Covington was a rural area there was not a demand for medical clinics or hospitals.  But as the population grew, so did the need for medical help nearby.

I remember when the Covington Multicare Clinic and Surgery Center was built almost two decades ago.  That was exciting!  A medical facility close, very close to home.  It became and still is a very busy place seven days a week.  With surgeries performed there, clinics of varying specialities, an Urgent Care clinic for after hours use and more, it is a very necessary part of Covington.  But it doesn’t stop there. 

Just down the street is the Valley Medical clinic.  Then by city hall there are specialty offices.  Next to Walgreens are more doctors offices and dental offices.  In Maple Valley at Four Corners are medical facilities.  And it keeps growing.  Now, Valley Medical and Multicare have applied for and sent in plans to build more.  Valley Medical wants to build a 24 hour emergency center and Multicare a larger hospital with emergency services and other specialties.  As time goes on and Covington continues to grow, I’m sure more medical clinics and emergency services with arise.

It’s a long way from when we took our neighbor 15 to 30 minutes away to get medical help.  Now, should someone have an unfortunate accident or need, medical help is just minutes away, maybe even seconds depending where in Covington you live!

Click here for a little history of Multicare including in Covington.

At that time, Kent-Kangley was a two-lane road.  It was lined on both sides by forests.  A few houses lined the road here and there either right on the shoulder of Kent-Kangley or perpendicular to the road and down a short dirt driveway.  Other than the grocery store and a few small businesses, Covington was very rural.  The sound of sirens always made me perk up. 

Somewhere around Walgreen’s or the complex by The Rock stood a few houses.  That’s where the sirens were headed.  For some reason, in my mind, the house was orange and white.  Maybe it was.  Maybe it wasn’t.  But that’s what I remember.  A few trees stood in front of it with a short sidewalk that ended at the shoulder along Kent-Kangley.  There might have been a small fence. 

My stomach churned and my heart beat faster as I heard the commotion of emergency vehicles converge in the area by the home.  I didn’t walk down there due to fear and being so young, but the flashing lights and the urgency of it all told me something was wrong.  Although the day was still light and warm, the sun set on my heart and mind as I wondered what terrible thing was going on.  A feeling of depression and sadness filled my soul and my wish to play waned. 

In an age before the Internet, instant news and the ability to find out in minutes what was going on, it wasn’t until a day or two later that I heard what had happened.  A young boy or teenager had left that home and crossed the street only to be hit by a car.  There were no crosswalks or lights.  To cross was a free-for-all.  You took your chances. 

The story I heard was that his body was thrown several feet through the air landing on the pavement nearby.  The mental images that formed in my mind and my imagination of the scene chilled me.  To hear those warnings from your parents from the time you can walk about not crossing a busy road and then seeing the consequences of their warnings is indescribable.  I don’t remember if the boy died, but something tells me he did.  For a long time, every time we drove past that house my mind conjured up images of the deadly scene.

To this day, when I read of stories of people crossing the street and getting hit and killed, I think of that boy and his family. Right here in Covington.  Years ago when the traffic was minimal.  A rural town.  Yet it happened.  I’ve been stupid enough to cross a road without using the crosswalk a few times, and my heart pounds when I think of how easily I could have gotten hit myself.  No matter how hard you look both ways, there’s always that car your mind and eyes didn’t see.  To imagine hearing the screeching of tires and the blare of a horn before that numbing crunch of your body against the grille is chilling.  May it never happen!

Some businesses and stores seem to identify or create a city’s importance or emergence on the map.  When McDonald’s arrived, I felt like we were somebody.  Covington was cool!  Of course, over the years, McDonald’s sitting on the corner of Wax Road and Kent-Kangley (SR 516 or SE 272nd St.) became a well-known and common establishment.  As the area grew and more people moved in, McDonald’s also showed up in Maple Valley by Wilderness Village and at Four Corners.  Now, once again, McDonald’s is re-emerging as “new and improved.” 

According to the sign, the new McDonald’s in Covington should open in the spring.  It will be all new except for a couple of walls from the old building that were left and built into the new building. It will be bigger, have a newer more modern look and will continue to be an icon on the corner of that busy intersection. 

I am waiting and excited.  When it opens, I’ll return once again to a fast-food chain that has been part of Covington for many years and probably will for decades to come! 

A friend of our family did many things in her life.  She was the type of person that didn’t sit still.  She was always moving, doing something, trying something new.  At one point in her life she built a tavern where Walgreen’s sits today.  I don’t remember how long it stood there providing liquor for customers, maybe five to ten years, but eventually it burned down. 

I remember it was basically a rectangular building constructed of bricks.  It was pretty simple, but it was definitely a drinking establishment.  Like many cities of the past, Covington had a grocery store, a few churches, a pharmacy and gas station and a tavern.  Those days are long gone, but pondering what was and now is makes one appreciate how quickly things can change in just a few short decades. 

Today if one wants a drink at a tavern, they would need to travel toward Maple Valley and stop by the Pla-Mor tavern across from Cherokee Bay.  Or, if you’re just looking for a Friday night spot to have a drink with friends that’s not a tavern-type establishment, there are several restaurants in the area that offer liquor.  Wherever one might go, truth be told things change!

Since the restaurant, and other businesses in that area have all been built on the land where several bike trails used to be, it is possible that I rode either through, past or on the very spot I was sitting eating dinner.  It’s strange how things change and time flows.  If I could travel back in time while I sat in the restaurant, would there be a point where my chair would be sitting right where I used to play?  I’ll never know.  But I do know it was that area where I used to relax with my friends when I was small.

Since our old house sat where the new medical building by City Hall sits now, looking at the area around that vicinity brings back a flood of memories of what used to be.  Those feelings and thoughts really come to the fore when I mention something about the area to others and they look surprised and say something like, “Really?  I didn’t know that!  You actually lived and played here?”  Although to them it is a fleeting comment lost in the haze of time, to me the memories solidify and coalesce in my mind every time I drive by.  I can’t help but think of how much has changed in 40 years!

I don’t know if there is a valid reason for this or not, but it still boggles my mind.  What is it?  Not making the main entrance to Cherokee Bay at the same intersection as 216th and Kent-Kangley where a stoplight with turn lanes now exist.

For years, there was no light there.  In fact, there were two entrances to Cherokee Bay.  The current “main entrance” and the blocked off entrance at the above-mentioned intersection.  The year they put in the signals I was ecstatic.  Finally!  A light, one entrance to Cherokee Bay, far less accidents from turning without a signal and one intersection for all roads. 

As construction progressed, my bewilderment increased.  Only three sets of lights?  Blocking off the road into Cherokee Bay?  No lights on that side of the street?  Improving the entrance to Cherokee Bay down the road from the new signals but still forcing vehicles to turn into the development without a signal?  Causing more congestion with a signal and separate entrance?  Increasing the odds of accidents or fatalities?  I didn’t understand.  I still don’t.

Why the main entrance to Cherokee Bay was not part of the changes that were made to Kent-Kangley and 216th baffles me.  Why didn’t the city or state mandate that it become the main entrance thus diminishing congestion, increasing life expectancy of drivers and passengers and creating a smooth intersection instead of creating more congestion?  Why didn’t Cherokee Bay step up to the plate and willingly work with these improvements for the sake of everyone, not just their development? 

Perhaps there was a good reason.  Perhaps I don’t have all the facts.  Suffice it to say that from all logical angles and from all perspectives of saving lives this intersection should have been designed as the only one for all roads involved instead of creating a potential deathtrap for anyone entering or exiting Cherokee Bay. 

Perhaps this will be corrected in the future?  I can only hope so for my family’s sake and for all others who use this road and the entrance to Cherokee Bay.

I watch the houses of friends in the neighborhood by city hall slowly go away.  I noticed today a house across from Office Depot is now boarded up, part of the roof missing and gone, the home ready for destruction.  I played there.  I was in that house hundreds of times.  I had dinner there, swam in a pool in the back yard where I heard horror stories of children drowning in larger pools.  I was probably eight or nine. 

One family I knew lived there.  They moved and another moved in.  We knew them too.  I grew up with their children.  That house was on the back side of some other friends house which sat across from city hall where our house used to be.  We would climb the fence in the back yard into the other yard and get yelled at by parents.  Or we could walk around the U-shaped street and spend an extra four minutes walking. 

As these homes disappear to make way for progress, memories of days past flash through my mind.  Only I will remember what happened in those empty lots when I was young.  At some point in the future, perhaps I’ll stand at such-and-such longitude and latitude which corresponds to the location of those old homes and find myself inside a mall, a restaurant, a parking lot or a business.  Who knows? 

The strange thing is the sensation of knowing what used to be and what will be in the future.

When I attended, the outside halls didn’t have locking doors on them as they do now.  Instead they were blocked off by large gates that you could peer through.  The gates didn’t go all the way to the roof though.  There was a gap of about three feet above those gates and it wasn’t unusual for mischievous youngsters and teens to climb over them to run the halls when no one was around. 

I also remember somewhere around fourth grade a new nature trail was constructed behind the school gym in the woods.  I don’t know if it still exists.  The classes would take mini field trips on this trail to enjoy the forest and learn.  Of course going on this trail alone was forbidden and it was pounded into our heads that strangers or other misfits of society could be lurking there just waiting to attack or kidnap us. 

The field out back was huge, or so it seemed when I was small, and climbing the banks in the far corners of the field which butted up against the forest was also forbidden.  Again, the same reasoning; the potential for children to disappear.  At least once for me and many times for others I remember the playground teacher yelling at us to get off the hill and back on the field.  To this day I can still feel the haze of fear instilled in us if we dared venture into the forbidden zones.

In the near future when this school disappears from the map, those memories will remain within the confines of my mind only to be accessed by the synapses and neurons that control my brain. Until that time comes, enjoy the school that has been there some forty years or more.  If your children have the privilege of attending there now, what kind of stories or memories will they take with them and recall when they are adults?

In December, QFC is closing.  That means the pharmacy will be gone too.  All those years of friendship with the owner, Jim and his many employees such as Wanda, Mary, Melanie, Connie and others will remain, but their physical presence will fade as they go their separate ways to work elsewhere.  I will miss them all but wish them the best.

It is sad to see a piece of Covington disappear, a piece that has been part of my life for some 40 years.  Although the building will be empty, quiet, dark; the memories that remain within those few hundred square feet of building will always swirl within my mind.  Future generations will never know about the people and businesses that resided there unless they hear the stories from people who lived in Covington at some point during the past 40 plus years.  Eventually, all that history will be found only in books or online. 

Preservation of such pleasant memories is a must because these are what  Covington is made of.

I can hear the funny cars, the smaller cars and the cars with jet engines.  (A quick spurt of energy and sound and the quarter-mile is done in a few seconds.)  Whether it be rain or shine, the races go on.

I’ve heard these sounds for over forty years.  The sounds cascading off trees and hills and reaching my ears in Covington.  And where do they originate?  Why from Pacific Raceways.  Of course if you’ve lived here any length of time you still say S.I.R. (Seattle International Raceways)  It’s a hard change to use the new name when you grew up with S.I.R.  Friends that live there still refer to it as S.I.R. 

I wonder.  If people have moved into that development or even into Covington in the last ten years or so and hear the term S.I.R. or even use that term, do they know what it stands for? 

The next time you hear that cacophony of sound emanating from the track in the trees, think S.I.R., or Pacific Raceway.

Now the question is, do you know where these housing developments are?  They’ve been around for a long time and some don’t even have a sign to identify them.  But if you’re an old-timer in Covington or Maple Valley, I bet you know.

Timberlane, Suncrest, Winterwood, Burwood, Waldheim Acres, Horseshoe Lake, 101 Pines, Heather Highlands, Highlands of Cedar River, Tall Timbers, Cherokee Bay, Arcadia, Fernwood or others. 

If you are a long-time resident others will know what you are talking about because most likely you refer to landmarks and housing developments by some of the names mentioned above thereby leaving others to wonder what in the world you are referring to.

Up until a few years ago, there was an area next to Suncrest and behind Kentwood high school that was all trees, fields and the Little Soos Creek.  That all changed when a large development called Coho Creek went in.  Although only partially complete, the development covers several acres.

In the past this area was a beautiful area of forests and fields.  Only a few houses were located on this property.  I remember one of the houses had a large pond which was filled by the Little Soos and full of fish.  It was very picturesque and lined by trees.  Farther back was a bridge that crossed the creek and a beautiful log cabin. 

About three years ago, I watched with sadness as the log cabin was torn down, the trees removed, the pond filled in and roads and utilities put in place of them to make way for several hundred houses over the next several years. 

I know that progress will always continue no matter what city you live in, but to see it go from a scenic wonder to asphalt and buildings is always sad.  The creek still meanders through the area, but the rest is history.

The driveway into the farm was about where the entrance to Fred Meyer is now.  At that time, the road was a little higher so the driveway dropped down into the home and farm.  Trees filled what is now a parking lot and shopping center.  A small white house and lots of goats filled the woods.  I don’t remember when, but eventually the goats disappeared. 

And speaking of animals, did you know there used to be a Mink farm on the Covington-Sawyer road just past the entrance to Crest Air park?  I can remember coming home many a night in the cool summer evening when the fog swirled low across the fields and the aroma of dead fish filled the air as this was the food given to the Mink.  That farm was there for a long time.  Then it became a field of old dilapidated buildings. Now there’s nothing left.

The scene changes, the smells fade, but the memories remain alive.

(Taken from: howtosurviveit.com)

The clouds hung in green curtains over our house on 168th Pl. SE.  The year was 1969.  I was six.  I was awed.  I was scared.  A tremendous hailstorm broke loose along with thunder and lightning.  My dad said it looked like tornado clouds.  I’ve always had a respectful fear and awe of tornadoes, but those words scared me.  I thought for sure we were going to get sucked up.

No tornado touched down in Covington that day, but one did come down the hill on the west side of Kent by the Boeing plant.  We had a friend that lived by the river.  She said the tornado came down the road in front of her house and she hid in the bathroom.  The roar was deafening.  She was unharmed, but scared. 

I’ve seen some strange storms and bizarre cloud formations over the years here in Covington, but never a tornado.  The one that destroyed structures and uprooted trees in Enumclaw last Sunday was the first in a long time. 

I was sitting with my family in the Los Cabos restaurant by Fred Meyer and watched the rain pour and the clouds turn an eerie green.  Once again, over the exact same spot as in 1969, the curtain effect and green hue became evident.  Forty years later.  Within a few hundred feet of my old house. Weird.  No harm done.  Just that strange feeling of awe and trepidation once again.

Way back in the day the only businesses there were Johnny’s, Doug’s barber shop (now located in Maple Valley) the Covington Rexall (pharmacy – now a QFC pharmacy inside the store) and maybe a couple other small businesses.  The building that houses QFC wasn’t there.  All the above-mentioned businesses occuped the building where Sports Cuts and the other stores are now.  The rest of the area was just woods. 

Later, Johnny’s built a new store where QFC is now.  The Covington Pharmacy expanded into part of what used to be the old Johnny’s and other businesses moved around.  Later still, Johnny’s became Johnny’s PX and today it is QFC. 

More businesses began to emerge on the landscape including Les Schwab, Taco Time, and all the other businesses in the Safeway complex.  Across the street the dental clinic was built next to a Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses which was one of the first buildings in the Covington area.  It was built around 1965 and was demolished to make way for the current businesses in the area.  The Kingdom Hall moved to 240th St around 2005. 

Where Walgreen’s stands there used to be a tavern.  Yes, that’s right!  A tavern in Covington.  Of course, over the years everything changed.  Now there are apartments, businesses, restaurants, gas stations and more.  As time goes on, what other changes will we see?  Time will tell.

The area underneath the power lines where Applebee’s, Kohls, apartments and other businesses now reside was once a large field filled with Scotch Broom, trees, small hills and valleys and a dirt access road.  In years past motorcycles, trucks, bicycles and wanderers made their way through this natural setting. 

As the years passed, however, things began to change.  Apartments were built.  Then businesses, parking lots, utilities and more.  Today, the natural setting underneath those lines is gone. 

Across the street from Applebee’s where Safeway, Fred Meyer and all the other businesses are now a large forest of fir trees resided.  Hidden amongst their branches and trunks were a few houses sparsely spread out.  Driveways, some long, some short, meandered through the woods. 

Kent-Kangley was two lanes.  Driving through Covington was quiet.  Trees and a few houses lined both sides of the road.  And yet, overhead, the power lines carrying power to people around Washington hung sullenly observing life on the forest floor below and watching the world slowly change. 

Do you remember Johnny’s PX?  Check out my next upcoming blog about changes in the QFC business area.

At the time, there was no overpass.  Highway 18 was simply a two- lane highway which intersected a two-lane Kent-Kangley.  Kent-Kangley had stop signs and later a signal.  That didn’t prevent some deadly accidents though.  Eventually, the overpass was built for two lanes and years later a second overpass completed the four-lane highway. 

Anyway, the hill and trails.  Like the field, these trails also snaked through tall Scotch Broom bushes making for a great maze to ride through.  We could race through the field, across the street (168th) and up the small hills into the upper trails just mentioned.  A few small trees lined the top of the hill in different places. 

One day we took a family ride and rode our bikes on these trails with my dad  carrying my brother on his bike.  When he started down one hill, my brother got scared and jammed his feet into the front spokes of the bike tearing up his feet and legs and subsequently stopping the bike and our fun for the day.

Racing around these trails and up and down the road was always great fun, especially in the summer.  Long days, sunshine, a quiet neighborhood and good friends.  Those are things to reminisce about!

The field once existed where the Valley Medical building across from Jack-in-the-Box and Fred Meyer now sits.  It was between 168th and 169th streets.  For an evening of fun or just plain fun any time of day or night, all the neighborhood kids loved playing in the field.  During those years, we would run down the street and spend hours in the field without fear of crime or kidnappers.  When we heard the distant call of our mothers, we knew it was time to run home.  They didn’t worry and we didn’t fear.  Those days are gone.  But the memories of the field and the days filled with fun outside in the sunshine will never set.  Whenever I drive by that medical building and the surrounding parking lot, I reminisce about the field that once was.  Those were the days!

I loved the root cellar, although it was a scary place, especially if I had to go down in it to get home canned goods or vegetables at night.  The temperature was always cool.  I don’t think there was a light, I can’t remember.  I do remember using a flash light to find things and digging through the bins of sand feeling for vegetables.  The only negative thing about the veggies was that after awhile they tasted like creosote since the root cellar I helped my dad dig was built out of railroad ties.  When I pass by that building now, I wonder if the construction crews found the old root cellar when they began to build or if it was filled in or removed after we moved.  I’ll probably never know. 

168th Place SE was a quiet street.  Facing our house, there were three houses, if memory serves me right, to the left and several to the right which still exist.  The neighborhood was built on a horseshoe street with houses lining both sides.  Both roads, 168th and 169th, intersected with a two-lane Kent-Kangley (272nd) road.  Where the Valley Medical building next to Kent-Kangley and sitting between 168th and 169th streets is, there used to be a big field we played in.  That was cool!  (More on that in a later post.) 

As I reminisce as to whether or not the old creosote-walled, sand-filled bins root cellar has recently disappeared or not, the memories that were made still exist in the cellar of my mind!