I wanted to learn more about Broomfield's Marine Exhaust on Ballard Avenue even before owner Ed Broomfield contacted me. Two years ago I watched Broomfield's Little League team win their division and was struck by the straightforward industrial name. So when Ed contacted me on a day that I was thinking about them, it was quite a coincidence. On paper there's no reason my path would cross with that of Ed Broomfield. I don't own a boat, am allergic to cigarette smoke, favor gun control, am afraid of dogs (particularly ones that outweigh me by 50 pounds) and have never had 1) a son in Little League Baseball, or 2) a son.

Yet one afternoon I found myself stepping over sheets of metal and a 175-pound brindle bull mastiff to perch between Ed Broomfield and his office manager, Lisa, in the narrow space just off the machine shop. Ed proceeded to interview me, asking about my interests, my writing, whether I prefer cats or dogs. All the while Duke the bull mastiff took up a third of the floor space and contributed interesting odors to an office that smelled strongly of cigarettes, although Ed's pack of Marlboro Light 100's stayed untouched by his side.

"I notice that you write about local businesses sometimes," Ed had e-mailed me, "and thought you might be interested in one that's been in Ballard for 38 years."

The business is at the southern end of Ballard Avenue, adjoining Bad Albert's Tap & Grill, and is comprised of a machine shop and office. Three welders were working on the other side of the wall. Every surface was covered in papers or shop drawings; the only free surface was the broad back of the dog. Framed clippings, reference books on metallurgy - all were within reach. A two foot high Little League Trophy was prominently shelved with smaller trophies; Broomfield's name was engraved on the big trophy no less than eight times.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist a business that had been in Ballard so long," Ed said to me as a form of greeting. He quickly realized I wasn't sure when he was kidding and when he wasn't and pressed that advantage throughout our visit. Ed also realized, "It's kind of hard to talk about myself." I learned that he's 75 years old and jokes frequently about his aging. He raised five children after his wife's death, has survived three heart attacks and still works 60-80 hours per week in the Ballard Avenue location. He also claims that Lisa, his longtime office manager, "keeps him out of jail."

"What kind of trouble would you get in without her?" I asked. He lowered his gravelly voice somewhat and said, "That's just my way of saying she does a really good job and keeps this place running." Throughout the conversation he calls out to Lisa to fill in a name or a detail, as orchestrated together as a surgical team.

My knowledge of diesel exhaust is nil but I learned that Broomfield's Marine Exhaust is one of only two local machine shops specializing in marine welding with "a very good name in the diesel exhaust business." Big names in the marine industry such as Kvichak and Trident Seafoods rely on them. Ed claims they're an "itty-bitty business" but admits that a shortage in space and qualified welders forces them to turn away quite a bit of work. While we talked a man carrying metal pipes knocked on the outer door needing the pipes 'drilled out.' Ed sent the man next door to a less specialized machine shop. "You've done good work for me in the past," the man said in parting.

Ed shut the door.

"I've got him fooled," he said and laughed. He believes that if you don't find a way to treat life with levity then things like three heart attacks will kill you.

In addition to running the business for the last four decades, Ed also taught law enforcement workshops for over 20 years and still goes to the range "to shoot all the time" even though the dog is afraid of the noise. In the upper right hand corner of Broomfield's marketing materials there's a photo of Duke. Ed explains that he's had three dogs but always replaces them with another brindle Mastiff so that most clients don't know the difference. Duke doesn't like to walk through the shop because of the fabrication noise. But he's a Ballard Avenue fixture, like Ed.

Ed has had offers to move the business but wouldn't want to be anywhere other than Ballard. "People are really nice in Ballard." He reads the Seattle Post-Intelligencer but thinks the Ballard News-Tribune is better, "because it's where I am." He didn't mind the first wave of condominiums but now he's had enough of them, mostly because the parking situation is getting worse and worse for his employees and clients.

It's clear that why he really spends 60-80 hours at the shop is because he loves it there. Bad Albert's next door is his lunchroom. "That guy is a real chef. His penne with the alfredo is really something." Ballard Avenue is his front porch; the shop is his home and the office his cozy den, with people dropping by all day long.

"It's not that easy talking about myself," Ed said again. He cocked his head towards the shop, "but our work speaks for itself."

Peggy can be reached atlargeinballard@yahoo.com. She writes additional pieces at http://blog.seattlepi.nwsource.com/ballard.