Let There Be Light

For quite some time I’ve had difficulties with the electric panel in my basement. Whoever mounted it to the wall used only a 1/2 inch thick piece of plywood attaching it to a cinderblock, outside wall. When the warm air from the oil heater or the heat from my wood burner came in contact with the cooler surface of the metal of the electric panel, the moisture in the damp basement air would condense and collect at the bottom. There was no way I could keep the cover on the panel, it intensified the problem. With the cover off, it allowed air to circulate, but wasn’t enough. I used a small fan, hanging it to play the sir current over the wires and the inside of the box. That kept most of the moisture at bay, evaporating any condensation before it could cause a problem.

The inside bottom of the panel had developed a thick flakey layer of rust. The electric box was old, original with the house built in 1974 or 1975. It was outdated just for the amperage. I decided that it was time to update the house, add a few new receptacles, and the new electrical panel installed.

Wednesday was the day. The contractor and three others arrived with the bucket truck and began the task. They also had a portable generator to provide their own electricity for light. After the crew was given instructions, the contractor drove off to receive a delivery at his business. The crew dug in and soon I was sitting in the dark. Not really, it was 9:30 am. Willow, the cat didn’t like the noise of saws and drills, sticking close to me. The panel box was attached to a 3/4 inch square of plywood, with air space between it and the wall.

The contractor came back to check on the progress and to present the bill. It was $1,700.00, the agreed on price. Shortly after, he drove off again to his farm. As the job neared completion, the young men began to peel off, no longer needed. The last workman fastened the last few wires and placed the cover on the panel. I checked the electric upstairs. Everything was fine, but one line of lights in the basement wasn’t turning on. I showed him which lights were on that string. Troubleshooting, he discovered that a light switch had gone bad. Once it was replaced, he cleaned up and departed.

Now, my house is light and so is my bank account.