Machine Designs: Dos and Don'ts: Chapter 22
13 yards of concrete:When I first started out as a journeyman millwright and a journeyman carpenter things were not going so good. The economy was in a recession, interest rates were sky high and inflation was out of control. I was the lowest member on the totem pole, based on years of service. Hence the only jobs I was sent to were the ones that no one else wanted. I had to drive over a 100 miles one way. I was always given the hardest and the dirtiest jobs. Most of the time I was knee deep in muck and mud, laying out the foundations. As soon as the concrete was poured and we had a nice smooth, dry surface to work on, I was sent to the next hole. Wisconsin winters are brutal. The worst thing that you can do is to get your feet wet during winter. I learnt that real fast.
Seemed to me that everyone in our union was related! We had nephews, uncles, cousins, fathers, second cousins, brother-in-laws etc. Most were from local farm families. These were all big, burly guys. Simple country folks. Conversations always centered around hunting and fishing. Curious by nature, I would always ask questions that seemed dumb to these guys. Questions like how much milk does an average cow give. Ofcourse, I got 20 different answers from 20 different guys. Questions related to different crops, yields per acre, price per acre, fertilizers and how it was applied and when was the best time to apply manure. Tractors and farm implements. Bee-keeping....endless questions.
Until I showed on the scene, no one had discussed these topics. They all knew ( or thought they knew) the answers to such simple questions. A simple question would lead into a lively debate and at times tempers flared over differences of opinions. Most of these guys were high school drop outs. The few that had finished high school could barely read or write. But, I really liked these guys as they stated their biases and opinions unabashed. A spade was a spade. There was no "politically correct" mumbo jumbo.
And they came to know me. I made a lot of friends, but I also made a lot of enemies. At this time I was also teaching night school at the local Technical institute. One of the subjects I taught was blue print reading. The fact that I could read blue prints was perceived as threat by a few foremen on the job-sites. I was always "tested" by the crew. Once the forms were set-up, I was always asked how much concrete was needed to fill the void. To me this was as easy as ABC, and I would do the simple calculations mentally and say 6.75 yards or whatever the answer happened to be. The foremen on our job sites could not do these calculations mentally. They used slide rulers. This was another ploy to impress the average millwright.
Mr. Hugh was the foreman on one of our job sites. Hugh was about 63 years old with a bushy head of snow white hair, rosy red cheeks and a twinkle in his eyes. He was a sweet gentle soul. He always reminded me of Santa Claus. We got along perfectly. Everytime Hugh had a problem understanding the blue prints, he called me aside and I would either render a 3D drawing or explain the whole concept to him. I made sure that the rest of gang didn't know this out of respect for Hugh.
We started at 7 in the morning and worked till 3p.m in the afternoon. At around 2.45p.m. all work would come to a stop. Everyone started picking up their tools and putting stuff away. By 3p.m. the whole crew was headed for the gate. Since I was the youngest and the junior most member, I was assigned tasks that I had to do before I left. So I was usually the last one to leave.
Once you start pouring concrete you don't stop till the job is done. The job required that there be at least one carpenter on hand while the concrete was being poured. 90% of the time this meant that I had to stay on the job site till the concrete crew were finished. Then I had to go around and install all the key-ways and other bolts etc., while the concrete was still green. None of the senior members cherished this task. It meant crawling up and down scaffoldings and ladders carrying all kinds of steel bolts and key-ways. I didn't mind doing this at all and so this task was left for me almost all the time. In addition I had to make sure that all nuts and bolts holding the forms were secure and that no critical bolt patterns got shifted during the pour.
It was around 2.30 p.m. one hot afternoon, when we finished forming a section of a retaining wall. Mark, who was the superintendent, came by with his slide ruler. It was his job to order the concrete. I was standing on the top of this wall. And without thinking I shouted out, "Hey Mark we need 13 yards of concrete". Everyone on the job site heard me. Mark utterly ignored me and proceeded to pull out his slide ruler. After about 5 minutes on the slide ruler he shouted out, " We need 10 yards of concrete". Everyone heard this.
By 3 p.m. when the concrete trucks arrived, everyone was gone except the concrete crew and the lone carpenter. Around 7 p.m. the concrete trucks ran out of concrete and we were still about 10 inches below grade. The concrete guys were furious. One of them went and fetched Mark from his office trailer. We needed 3 more yards of concrete to finish the job. It is well past 7 p.m. by now. The concrete plant was shut down for the day. The wall had to be poured in one shot. Mark made some emergency calls. The concrete plant had to be re-opened and 3 miserable yards of concrete had to be custom mixed. It was almost 10.30 p.m. before the 3 yards of concrete arrived and we could finish pouring the wall. By the time I finished putting in all the key-ways and bolts, it was past midnight.
13 yards of concrete:
Next morning when I showed up at the job site , I was summoned to Mark's trailer. Mark handed me the "pink slip". He didn't say a word. I picked up my tools and left the job-site.
