Memoirs of a Worker

How Not to do It

This chapter takes place during my early years as a carpenter. I'll dedicate this chapter to my friend, "Rob."

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During my years as a carpenter, I built or was involved in building (it’s always a joint effort from lots of folks) several very nice custom homes. These homes still look good after a few decades (Wow, That made me sound old! In my mind, I’m still pretty young) and it’s even kind of fun to go on a Sunday drive once in a while and look at some of my previous work.

I started my construction career and worked for a contractor in eastern Idaho, building condominiums. After a few months of pounding nails, the developers of the project, fired the contractor (my boss) and then asked me if I thought I could finish up several of the buildings. Being very young and most likely over-confident, I said yes. The owners of the project said I would need a couple of partners, if I was to see the project through completion, so I got two partners, Dennis and Bill. Where we lacked in knowledge, we made it up with enthusiasm. When we didn’t know how to build something, we asked questions, and then by trial and error, we were able to finish the condo project. We made some money and the condo project turned out really good.

Dennis, Bill and I thought our partnership would be short lived, only lasting until the condominiums were completed. Then the Teton Dam burst in June of 1976 and we ended up with so much work that we had to start turning projects away and we even hired a few people. We ended up working together for 3 years. When our run was over, we parted as friends.

One day on the jobsite a tool salesman showed up. (It’s not a good idea to let tool salesmen on jobsites, but we didn’t know that at the time). The tool salesman showed us all kinds of the latest and greatest tools that would, “Make our lives easier, and make us more money than we ever dreamed about.” Dennis, Bill and I sent the salesman away but asked if he would come back in a couple of days and we would have our decision made.

The salesman came back and we ended up purchasing some nail guns, hoses and compressors. He guaranteed us that by using the nail guns, we would build houses in lightning speed. We envisioned ourselves being important and becoming a large contracting firm. We three could stay in the office and run the projects while our hired help did the actual house building. (Things seldom work out how they’re planned.)

A few days after buying the new equipment, we started a new home in an adjoining community. I took one of our hired men that I’ll call “Rob,” to the jobsite with me. We squared the foundation, snapped some chalk lines and started the layout for the floor system.

I had known Rob since high school and I felt like I needed to help him. During high school, Rob was in a terrible car accident.  He ended up in a coma in the hospital, for several months, and was not expected to live, but fortunately he did. After he regained consciousness, he had to learn how to walk and talk all over again. Because of the accident, Rob was slow in the work he did, but we overlooked that and worked with him.

After we had the sill plate on and the rim joists nailed together, we started setting floor joists. I set up the compressor and hoses and attached the nail gun to the hose. I decided to give Rob the nail gun and told him he would be the first to ever use it.

Sometimes little things can get on my nerves and that day was no exception. I was not the fastest carpenter in the world, but I was steady, and steady seems to win the race in the end.

I had given the nail gun to Rob to nail floor joists on one side of the house, while I used my hammer to nail the floor joists onto the rim joist on the opposite side of the house. After a few minutes I looked over at Rob and noticed that I had done more than triple the work he had done, and I was nailing with my hammer, not the nail gun.

After every shot with the nail gun, Rob would say, “Wow! Did you see that? This thing is fast!” (He was like an excited little boy on Christmas morning).  Well, it can be fast, but it wasn’t fast the way it was being used. I bit my tongue (okay, not really, but figuratively). After several minutes of watching Rob and listening to his excitement of using the nail gun, I couldn’t take it any longer. I slipped my hammer back into my tool apron and walked to the other side of the foundation where Rob was supposedly working.

We talked for a few moments and then I said these fateful words; “Give me the nail gun and I’ll show you how to use it.” I had a good idea how to use it, but I had never actually used it before, or any kind of nail gun, for that matter. Rob handed me the nail gun. I reached down and grabbed hold of the next floor joist and stood it up on edge. “This is how you use a nail gun,” I said, “Now pay attention.”

I learned a couple of interesting things that day: first, don’t put your thumb too close to the rim joist; and second, don’t try to show someone how to do something without ever first having done the task yourself. I nodded at Rob and pulled the trigger. A nail shot out and anchored itself firmly to the wood joist. Since I had never fired a nail gun I hadn’t expected the recoil, so I instinctively pushed back, which caused me to double fire. The first nail hit its mark perfectly. The second nail missed the floor joist that it should have hit, and went in the end of my thumb and then curled up and came out at the first knuckle!

I let out a powerful scream, and handed the nail gun to Rob. Since the nail had curved, the pointy end was now close to the nail head! I took a deep breath and grit my teeth. To get the nail out of my thumb, I had to more or less thread my thumb off of the nail with my right hand, and it was a slow, grueling, process! Dang, the pain was excruciating! It hurt about as bad as pounding my thumb with my hammer (of which I will admit I have had a lot of experience, but don’t feel like expounding on that at the present)! Blood squirted everywhere. My heart seemed to have repositioned itself to the end of my throbbing thumb. Rob didn’t get overly excited about anything and he just stood there, eyeing the situation. He then said in his slow, methodical voice, “Gee Lloyd, I don’t think I want to do it that way!” Truer words were never spoken!

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and you learned "how not to do something." I'm traveling tomorrow so am posting a day early. As always, I would appreciate a vote by clicking on the star, and I love to read your comments. Thanks for reading