By Rodger Morrow, Editor & Publisher, Beaver County Business
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In an age when corporations feel obliged to behave like peacocks—fanning their feathers, shouting about billion-dollar acquisitions, and promising that artificial intelligence will soon care for our pets—it is oddly reassuring to know that, tucked away in Vanport Township, there’s a factory that’s spent decades doing something far less glamorous and far more useful.

The Beaver County facility of Eaton Corporation, located at 1 Tuscarawas Road, does not trade in hype. It manufactures molded-case circuit breakers, switchgear, and other uncelebrated devices whose sole ambition in life is to keep your house from burning down when the toaster gets ideas above its station. Eaton does not make headlines. It makes sure the headlines can still be read with the lights on.
The plant’s lineage stretches back to the 1940s, when it produced airplane propellers, later reinventing itself under Westinghouse Electric before landing with Eaton in 1994. By now, the building has survived more corporate transitions than a Senate committee chairmanship, yet it remains stubbornly functional. Somewhere between 300 and 500 Beaver County residents earn a living there—enough to keep Eaton reliably among the county’s largest employers without ever demanding a commemorative plaque or a marching band.
Inside the facility is the Beaver High Power Laboratory, a place where engineers conduct tests that sound like they belong in a Michael Bay screenplay: current interruptions, overload trials, endurance testing. Things explode, sparks fly, alarms wail—and everyone involved is relieved when that happens, because it means the system is working exactly as intended. In most places, explosions are a problem. Here, they’re a job requirement.
In 2023, Eaton announced a $150 million investment to expand North American manufacturing capacity. Beaver County received its portion of the pie, though the larger slices—and most of the new jobs—went to sunnier locales like El Paso. Still, the Vanport plant gained expanded production lines for high-demand breakers and assemblies, arriving just in time for the electrification boom driven by data centers and the great energy transition.
As a corporate neighbor, Eaton practices a discretion that borders on monastic. There are no headline-grabbing environmental controversies, no recent labor melodramas—just the steady, almost old-fashioned hum of a factory providing reliable paychecks in a region that has learned not to take such things for granted.
In an era of corporate showmanship, Eaton’s Beaver County operation offers a different model of success—one built not on spectacle, but on staying power.

