My Work Career

by arlyn stewart

My work career had roots in building things as a young boy.   They were called forts, tepees, club houses, hideouts and perhaps a few names forgotten.  They were built of saplings that were plentiful and near our country home, of old boards from the barn and even sod from the fields.  A great many hours of my youth were spent constructing various creations.  Sisters and more often brothers were engaged in many of those projects that were made possible because as country children, the leisure time that existed after chore task was almost always spent nearby the family farm.  There were also the rudimentary tools needed such as a saw, hammer, ax and nails.

When a middle teen, those projects gave way to adult projects in the summer when sometimes working on dads job site.  Usually when that happened it was as a mason tender, mixing mortar in a mortar box, carrying block and of course keeping dad and often my uncle supplied with mortar.  Those were the days of jack of all traders.  Men who were skilled at a great many task such as masonry, carpentry, roofing, electrical, painting, and plumbing.  Those men like my father often had small farms and worked construction as outside work to augment farm income.  They were hearty men who did what it took to provide.  During winter when construction wasn't available, they became loggers.  Dad also took on other task such as township clerk and supervisor.  They were men who possessed a combination of hand and intellect skills.

My grandfather built our home and barn.  Dad added to the home and out buildings.  They used what was available locally, often logging from their farms and milling at a nearby mill.  They were creative as well.  The rafters on our home and those used in the barn were  pole rafters  and I often marveled at the  patience that it must have taken to dress the bark from them and size them so evenly.

Whether there is tradesmanship in the genes or if exposure to the trades engenders abilities, who knows.  For me, there has always been an interest in and inclination to hand skills so during high school, an industrial arts curriculum was chosen but not at the neglect of math courses of algebra and geometry or basic science courses such as biology.   The drafting, woodworking and metal working courses came natural and interesting and I'd especially liked my metals instructor and metals crafts.  After an Army draft was served, a path was set upon to follow that of a high school metals instructor.  The process started in Texas at Kilgore College and then transferred to Western Michigan University because it offered one of the premiere industrial education programs in the nation, led by Dr. Fierer who had authored many industrial arts textbooks.

Nearing the end of that education, two events altered the course.  First, Dr. Fierer had grown frustrated by the changes taking place in the industrial arts classroom.  He had expressed that frustration in a plenary department lecture telling we students that unfortunately most if not all of us would be forced to compromise industrial arts education as we would be required under new education mandates to deal with the class disrupters.    Schools were being mandated to keep students in class at all cost and counselors were placing the most difficult into industrial arts classes with instructions that they had to be accommodated even if it meant washing out the program.    Second, not more than a few weeks after that lecture, the truth of it was punctuated as fact when on spring break I stopped by my old high school to visit my high school mentor and he wasn't there.   It was explained that he could be found in town as he'd bought the local hardware store.  

He explained why he'd left education.  When hired, the superintendent had given personal assurances that industrial arts would be taught as important as other course disciplines and he'd supported the outfitting of a lab with good machine equipment and he'd understood that class discipline was a prerequisite to safe machine tool education.   A battle had taken place between my high school instructor and the school counselors because of their insistence that he lower behavioral tolerances and keep students in his classes.  He explained that it all ended one day in the superintendents office with a discussion including the counselors when he faced down the superintendent and reminded him of his promise... a promise that the superintendent confessed he had education mandates forcing him to renege.    My instructor reminded them that what they were asking of him would cause the end of teaching machine tool technology.  They argued their hands were tied and no other options existed and he concluded with, "I came here to teach industrial arts, not provide a simple shop class, if class discipline has to go then I need to go as well." 

Like my mentor, teaching industrial arts without the use of machine tools was an impossible vision and my motivation to continue was jerked out from under me.  WMU had summer session schedules and two classes during the first session finished up all my department courses leaving only education courses the final year starting in the fall with student teaching in the spring.  I'd had to work 30-35 hours a week to supplement GI bill funds and the combination of losing interest and heavy effort became pointless and I soul searched the right course ahead.  

Life often offers forks in the road.  One came at that time.  After the first summer session ended and reporting to the yard foreman at the large lumber yard where I'd been working part time, that full or even extra hours could be worked during the second summer session prior to fall classes and that undetermined yet was some consideration to suspend schooling.  A message came to check with the yard manager who offered the position of contractor salesman, doing so with a carrot.  The position could be tried to see if it fit and if returning to classes in the fall, he would understand.  Full time pay was significantly more than part time and the contractor sales position with a personal office was an envious position so it seemed there was nothing to lose.  In the coming weeks the position was enjoyed dealing with only contractors on account.  They were the kind of hearty men I'd been raised among and comfortable around.  I found them sober, intelligent and purposeful in character and admired them as a group.

Schooling was suspended and I worked the contractor sales position until the following spring.  I'd made a deal with my Texas native wife that when my education was finished, we'd return to Texas as her parents were elderly and siblings were all far distances so she wanted to be close while they were alive, after that it was my call.  The lumber yard chain had a yard not too far from her parents so I transferred though the Texas yard was much smaller than that at Kalamazoo and had no separate contractor sales position and was a farther drive each day than was enjoyable.  

Another cross roads came.  Not satisfied with the transfer (it was a let down from the Kalamazoo yard and position) the hunt was on for a new job.  My father in law got me an interview with Exxon and they wanted to hire me but the position offered included a first assignment to West Texas, a pay your dues position for a good job future.  We'd bought a lot to build a house and were not wanting to move off so it was declined.  After a short hunt, my first construction job was found.   It was a carpenter position with a  good employer.   Carpentry was agreeable to my skills and inclinations and fit very well with the gregariousness learned from youth, the love of working outdoors.  Both of my grandfathers had done considerable carpentry and my father was a master at it.  Even though I had enjoyed the contractor sales position, I was happiest when getting out of the office into the yard with a contractor and checking on materials.  I'd narrowly but fortunately missed a desk job in the military and worked outside.  The first job after graduating high school had been an indoor job and shown me quickly that indoor work was disagreeable to my nature.  

After a couple of years I was sought out by a commercial contractor to take a position as job superintendent/carpenter, a salaried job that was considered management and as in the military sergeant position I'd enjoyed, thrust me into the role of a leader.  Leading construction projects came natural and when several general contractors approached me to sub contract their carpentry work, our savings was spent on tools to outfit a carpenter crew.   In some ways it was a big leap leaving a salaried job with company truck but whenever a decision came that offered more independence, it seemed attractive.   When first starting the business, all carpentry was taken including framing, finish and cabinetry but cabinets were only done for about a year because of the advent of shop built cabinets.   Likewise, a transition was also taking place in homes and they were often larger and more detailed requiring larger framing crews.  The larger framing crews did not meld well with trim work, so after a few years framing became the specialty.

A few years after going into business, my youngest brother who had served in Texas in the Army, moved to Texas and joined the crew staying for the next twenty years.  During his time, his skills and abilities allowed each of us to run a crew and as he enjoyed cornice work, I framed and he finished up with the cornice.  Performed was a great variety of carpentry including residential,  commercial and some amount of remodeling.  For a few years some general contracting was mixed in but home construction took a change in the eighties with the building slump.  During the slump, most of the construction was custom work for clients asking for increasingly more detail.  When a speculative market finally returned, buyers of those homes had adapted the same taste for detailed construction.  The detail required more effort and leadership from the framing contractor and made wearing both hats of general contractor and framing sub-contractor difficult.   Along with that change, I'd discovered that evening phone calls with customers about their projects was not agreeable to me, a necessity for general contracting. 

Even currently a cell phone is not carried because it forfeits an independence that seems a part of my character needs.  While a cell phone is valued as something to turn on and order materials, it's generally turned back off.  I realize this is a negative trait and have been called on it by contractors who dislike not being able to contact me at will.  If not for being near the end of a career, I might try to deal with it.

My career is nearing its end after thirty four years of business activity under the same name and business numbers.  In that time, a great many homes and commercial projects have been built, numbering in the thousands.  When driving around the area, it seems that projects I've built are everywhere and I sometimes wonder if a count was made if mine is greatest.

My career has outlasted a great many general contractors and fellow sub-contractors.  A list of projects would be very long.  Many times I've been chagrined when someone approaches me like an old friend and their face is a mystery and when they remind me that I framed their home,  my memory is often blank... there has simply been such a great many projects over the years that no effort seemed reasonable to remember them all.   Understood is the reverse, for they have only had a few projects built and it's easy to remember who did them.

Interesting perhaps is the general contractor that currently provides the majority of my work, I've been doing his work since the very early '80s.   One of the great pleasures of the career has been working for mostly sober, intelligent and purposeful charactered clients as well as co-workers.  Those words may be in contrast to the vision of some of framing crews with a bunch of derelicts and while I've no argument that those exist and in large numbers, they've never been on my crews or at least for long.  

Included with this essay about my career are a few photos of the most recent project.  While it is not the largest or even the most difficult project it does identify the kind of work that my career has engaged except we installed siding on this project and most construction in East Texas is brick veneered. 

Not known is when the last home will be framed.  The economy seems to be in very bad shape and though I've not felt it hard yet, my nail supplier says it has hit and to expect its impact.  Now nearing sixty three,  early Social Security retirement can be taken any time so I'm mentally prepared to close the career chapter.  If work continues for a few more years, that's OK too.   The construction trade has been many things including very hard work, enjoyment, pride and satisfaction. 

Sometimes I've reveled about having spent a work career doing what was as a youth considered play.













Some explanation about the stairs pictured below.  The  plans called for folding disappearing stairs but the owner had upgraded the roof trusses to room trusses to provide an exceptionally nice storage loft above the tripple garage.  The best day for disappearing stairs is the first day they are installed, they get looser every time they are used.  They are steep and difficult to manage when carrying anything of weight or size so I suggested that the owner consider a little more cost for custom stairs and he agreed. 




The stairs are raised by a winch but much of the weight of the stairs is born by this counter balance box of bricks so as to keep the labor of the winch reasonable.  Note the tapered block under the box, it is the cut off for the winch when raising the stairs.  Also note that it can be adjusted right or left to provide the correct closure of the stairs to the ceiling so that the ceiling trim fits well.