My education at the foot of the master began immediately. A month earlier, John directed me to dig holes for the post. Each was to be sixteen inches in diameter and two feet deep. I dug for most of two afternoons to complete them. The codes inspector came by and told me the holes needed to be twenty-three inches in diameter, so I again grabbed my handy posthole diggers. When he arrived John peered into the holes and barked, “These holes aren’t more than twelve inches in diameter. It seems that my perception of straight isn’t correct. I began the holes at the required size, but they narrowed as I dug deeper. So, the first order of business was to resize each hole. The other workers who arrived weren’t exactly happy because they too would be correcting the mistakes on what was to have been my job. I was embarrassed enough without John riding my back for the next half hour. Eventually, however, he let up when other things needed his attention.
I next learned about weight of materials. A four-by-four post is plenty heavy. However, a sixteen foot, six-by-six post is more than double in weight, or so it seems. Treated lumber is also much heavier than framing lumber. Toting those posts to the holes, raising, and setting them are tasks that requires four of five men. Eighty bags of concrete, each weighing eighty pounds, were poured into the holes to stabilize and set those thirteen poles. Lugging those sacks of dead weight to the holes quickly became back-breaking work. Nearly five-hundred pounds of the mix was used for each pole. I thought about all the guys who spend hours lifting weights so that their bodies are lean and cut and massive. They do all this and produce nothing. Maybe body builders should instead work construction. If they’d lifted 6400 pounds of concrete, I figure their muscles would have been just as bulging, and at the same time these guys could have earned some cash.
Precision is another necessity in construction; at least it should be. John and Ron, an older man who’s put in years as a construction worker, are as picky as any people in the business. After each pole was placed into its hole, measurements were taken to make they were seven feet, six inches apart. A long, heavy metal rod was used to maneuver the poles into the correct position. Sometimes that meant moving these monstrous things no more than one-sixteenth of an inch! When each was in the precise place, it was checked for plum on each side. Then bags of concrete were poured, and the rod became a tamp to pack in the concrete, especially next to the pole to keep water from reaching it. To anchor the post while the concrete set, two-by-sixes were screwed to it and then to the house. When the men finished setting and bracing them, the end product resembled the ruins of Stonehenge.
The next part of my education concerned anatomy and physiology. I’d arisen at 6:30 that Saturday morning and had already moved materials and raked smooth the dirt removed from the holes. Most of the soil was wet, so red clay became clumps that weren’t easily broken apart. Having to dig holes deeper and then spread even more dirt with a rake proved to be a frustrating task. All of the work I did that day exercised muscles I don’t normally use. In fact, on several occasions I paused while muscles in my arms, chest, and legs twitched, spasmed, and cramped. After the day ended, I took a shower and relaxed as much as possible. I was amazed at the direct correlation between strenuous exercise and an aching back and cramping legs. Sleeping that night proved to be impossible too. I simply was too tired to sleep.
My education in construction will continue. During the second weekend of January, a collection of friends and John’s crew will meet up again. This time we’ll begin the deck construction of the porch. I am excited to learn more, but I hope the day has fewer shocking lessons and I appear a bit smarter.
1 comment:
I'm laughing out loud... Something about men and construction... :)
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