These much ignored pieces of rural and urban furniture finally have a website of their own.
This is not the site to visit for technical information pertaining to telegraph poles. You'll find nothing about 10KVa transformers, digital telephone networking or even so much as a single volt.
This is a website celebrating the glorious everyday mundanitude of these simple silent sentinels the world over.
|from the simple...||through the interesting...||to the hieroglyphics||and the alluring|
|click the thumbnails above to view the gallerys.||more poles...|
We don't care what the wires contain either. They all carry electricity in some way be it the sparky stuff which boils your kettle, or the thinner stuff with your voice in it when you're on the phone.
Absolute gold struck here... You can tell it's gold because I've used capital letters in the title - and that's a first for these sage pages. Pete Gerrard, a mine of information on telegraph poles and friend of our incumbent Honorary Technical Adviser Keith S*****1 has sent us a copy of the 1933 publication "The Telegraph Pole" by W,H. Brent, B.Sc. (Hons.) A.M.I.E.E.
Now, I've seen odd pages from it in the past and posted them onto this here site. But here, and for your delectation, is all 32 pages of everything, literally everything, you ever wanted to know about telegraph poles. Pete says "I don’t think there is any confidentiality about it since BS1990 was written around the GPO Pole Specification, in fact it was the specification. It is a most definitive article and gives an incredible history of this ubiquitous but largely unknown about item of street furniture. There is much folklore surrounding its evolution and manufacturing process most of which is exactly that - folklore!"*2
It's 42Mb fat which is a hefty download, but ultimately that's only about the same as 3 loaves of wholemeal bread, or a box of Bran Flakes and a packet of cake mix. Click the cover below to start the teleportation process. ENJOY.
*1 Keith S**** signed the official secrets act so he's a secret, or something.
*2 I reserve the right to continue to spout folklore via this website.
To become a member of our most esteemed and august society may be considered an honour. Membership is so exclusive that it is ONLY available to those who have £3 in their paypal account AND are able to click the button that says JOIN NOW. And this last week we were delighted to welcome new member #0739 Pete Gerrard aka "Treebore".
For Treebore has sent us the wonderful pics you see below. Pete says that in the 1970s he worked for the GPO producing telegraph poles from forest to delivery. He re-joined the industry in the 90's working across Scandinavia, Russia and the Baltic States, And picture #1, taken in Estonia in 1997, is of a bunch telegraph poles before they knew they were telegraph poles.
The second pic is a stack of blank telegraph poles near Burjholm Sweden awaiting their fate of being shipped to the UK for subsequent fabrication and creosoting.
And finally, a telegraph pole near Lake Lagoda Russia taken in November 1997. Treebore presumes that this being Russia, the missing stay pole has been cut for firewood.
Welcome to the Telegraph Pole Appreciation Society, Treebore. What took you so long?
As always, click the pictures to enlarge them.
Many thanks to Sophie Jayne Howell for her recent email. Well March it was actually, but geologically, that's microseconds. Anyway, Sophie said some lovely things about our website - that always keeps the delay in replying down to single years - but also that her darling father who once worked for British Telecom servicing the poles rambles fondly about creosote. That's nice. Anyway, Sophie is clearly an appreciator of art as much as she is of, ahem, telegraph poles. She sent us these three images which frankly, are all gorgeous.
#1 & #2 are Simpsons inspired artworks by Tim Doyle - part of his "Unreal Estate" series. To quote Sophie here "...both of these have beautiful wiry sticky uppy-ey poles, covered in interesting looking squggly bits and big transmittery things. The poles loom in the twlight and just look lovely." The 3rd picture is Richard Rigg's 'I forgot what was said when we were outside, stood empty, now without those words I fell back' Installed in Leeds Art Gallery in 2011, it is two lovely big telegraph poles. In an art gallery, Telegraph poles, Art - you can't get better than that.
The week all started routinely enough. There I was busy appreciating the daily influx of photographs submitted by enthusiastic subscribers to these sagest of pages... including these finialed beauties. (Which have the look of South Shropshire about them) They came from an email address in hotmail which ought to have raised suspicions, if not hackles. No note was attached.
Things took a turn for the sinister when we received the following photograph a day later. From the same email address. And this time there was a note...
We were horror struck. Anybody who knows me would realise that if someone were to give me a penny, I still wouldn't have two pennies to rub together. So even if I did somehow know the whereabouts of an ageing water pump I could never put my hand on that kind of money. So we had to play the waiting game.
Then I saw that the evil fiend had carelessly signed his name at the bottom and so I started to put two and two together. My mate Pete Greenrod has a broken-down Vauxhall Cavalier in the scrap yard he calls his garden and he has manky, stinking trainers like those in the picture. But then it couldn't be him - I'm sure his is the 1984 model. And the ransom note specifically says that it's not him anyway, it's some other Pete. A red herring then.
This story didn't have a happy ending, and appreciators of fine telegraph poles should look away now. We received this photograph yesterday. An act of vile desperation, carried out without compunction by a soul-less Vauxhall (and Ryobi chainsaw) owner. Probably with a wood stove and who doesn't mind the stink of burning creosote.