This article appeared on July 25, 2020 on the website of the Dagblad van het Noorden and has been placed on this page without changes.
The residents of the Helperzoom in Groningen sat upright in bed when steam was blown off at night. As a child, Jelte Homburg looked fascinated at the Centrale Helpman on the back of his mother's bike. Later, as a photographer, a year after it was closed, he was allowed to take a look inside the empty energy factory. The sometimes hissing monster supplied Groningen with electricity for 50 years. A report from the beginning of modern times.
Grandpa lived 'on the Gideon', a remote area on the Winschoterdiep on the southeastern edge of Stad. His mother cleaned there once a week and Jelte Homburg (1953) went along as a child, on the back of her bike. The ride took us past Centrale Helpman. "Look," she said, "that's where our electricity comes from."
Science fiction, sorcery. Homburg was about 5 years old. The modern world as we know it today, completely dependent on electricity, began to take shape in the late 1950s and early 1960s. In most households, only the light was powered by electricity. Refrigerators and televisions were far from self-evident.
Solar parks and wind turbines
The contrast with the 21st century is great. The Eemshaven is becoming an increasingly important energy hub, solar parks and windmills are appearing all over the world and a new 380 kV (kilovolt) 'power highway' will cut through the province in a few years because the outdated 220 kV high-voltage connection can no longer handle it.
The control room of the Helpman power station in 1983. Photo by: Jelte Homburg
Electricity as a necessity of life. Jelte Homburg: "We recently experienced it again. There would be no electricity for a few hours. We knew that, but even a cup of coffee was a hassle. It turned out there was no ground coffee in the house. I found an old mill and ground beans by hand. Then you think: kettle on. Oh no, can't do that. Pan on the stove. But the ignition of the stove is electric. So we went looking for matches. Then that's done and it's: how many scoops? The first cup turned out to be too weak, the second a bit better. When we had it up to strength, the electricity was back."
Electricity was new
Electricity was relatively new in his youth. The sight of Centrale Helpman fueled his interest in technology, which never left him. Homburg went to the LTS, MTS and HTS, of course in the direction of electronics, but became a photographer. First at photo press agency D. van der Veen and later at Nieuwsblad van het Noorden , one of the predecessors of Dagblad van het Noorden .
Centrale Helpman, the monument from his youth, closed in 1982. A year after the last turbine stopped, Homburg was allowed to take a look inside the plant. To record what was about to disappear.
Labor intensive
The idea was to make a report in 1983 with slides flowing into each other, supported by sound. A kind of film. Homburg had good cameras and lenses. Video did not have that quality at the time. However, the editing turned out to be quite labor-intensive: the project ended up 'on the shelf'. Until he came across the material in early 2020 while cleaning up. He donated it to RHC Groninger Archieven and made a copy for his employer DvhN, where he retired in November last year.
Turbines of the Helpman power plant. Photo by: Jelte Homburg
"The building was going to be demolished. I got the key from the EGD, Energy Company for Groningen and Drenthe, and I walked around there for three days. Once with two former employees. I still know the last name of one. It was on the tape: Kiens."
Apocalyptic silence
The building breathed an apocalyptic silence. All the rooms were empty and only here and there a fluorescent light was burning. "Impressive, sinister. It reminded me of the old strawboard factories. They too have been silent for a long time, while there used to be a huge amount of activity there."
Central Helpman closed on November 30, 1982. Its history is recorded in the anniversary booklet Central Helpman 1931-1982 , published by the EGD.
The experience of Homburg is not unique, as is evident from the foreword: 'Centrale Helpman has left its mark on the area surrounding the village, now the Helpman district, since 1913. On the one hand, it is a symbol of power and energy for the North, on the other hand, it is a bringer of dust, soot and noise. But they belonged together, the silhouette gave a striking image of the technical world, which was broken open by electricity'.
In the dark interior
The preface confirmed the demolition plans: 'Extinguished, abandoned, it lies there. A single hollow-sounding footstep still disturbs the peace, the almost frightening silence in the dark interior. It will not be long before this familiar image disappears from history'.
The steam watch control room. Photo by: Jelte Homburg
However, the turbine hall and administration office were retained. The building is now called Mediacentrale and houses, among others, RTV Noord
The Central Helpman of Homburg was actually the second. The first electricity plant, in operation from 1914 to 1931 and named after the nearby district, had eight boilers and four turbines, but the efficiency turned out to be low and the capacity insufficient for the increasing demand.
Unemployment ruled life
Construction of the second plant began during the recession years. The stock market crash in America was fresh in memory, unemployment dominated life. The Helpman plant, which mainly ran on coal and in the last years on natural gas, flourished after the Second World War, during the reconstruction. Between 1947 and 1957, seven boilers and four turbines were added. At its peak, there were eleven boilers and seven turbines, varying in capacity from 8 megawatts (MW) to 49 megawatts.
Steam boiler seen from the boiler floor. Photo by: Jelte Homburg
But demand continued to grow. The Hunzecentrale, with its famous 'five pipes', was built between 1963 and 1970 and slowly took over the function of energy supplier. Since the mid-1990s, the Eemscentrale at the Eemshaven has fulfilled that role, together with the plant in Burgum in Friesland.
In case of problems, Haren retained its power
Central Helpman proved to be reliable for half a century. Disruptions were relatively few and only short-lived. It was customary, however, to switch off Haren last in the event of problems. The director lived there …
The Helpman plant. In the background the five pipes of the Hunze plant are visible. Photo: Jelte Homburg
Another director, Hofman, lived on the Helpman site. The family's involvement went so far that his wife responded directly to a change in the humming sound of the machines in her sleep. When the phone rang, she said that her husband was already on his way. Whereupon the chief engineer said in surprise: "How do you know there was a malfunction?"
One of the employees told Homburg that when steam had to be let off during a closure at night, all the residents of the Helperzoom woke up: "It was a really loud noise."
A wink was a glitch
The world was more vulnerable then. Each province generated its own electricity. A major outage and the entire region was in the dark. In the days of the Hunze power station, various high-voltage networks were connected and the citizen did not notice any outages. At most a 'wink'.
Even that is no longer the case in the 21st century. Even if all the power stations in the Netherlands fail, the lights will not go out. The European grid immediately takes over the load. Necessity. Electricity is no longer a luxury, but a necessity of life. If the power were to be cut off for an hour in all of Europe, an estimated 1 million people would die.
Source (incl. photos by Jelte Homburg): Daily newspaper of the North
Special story very nice