I have spent the better part of twenty years working for a general contractor, swinging hammers, turning wrenches, and slinging shovels. Though this experience has denied me a specialty, it has given me a thorough and diversified skill-set. My career path started early, assisting in my grandfathers workshop and helping as I could on the family fixer-upper as a young teen. A few years of Technical/Architectural drawing classes, and a determined focus on mathematics in high school laid the foundations of my post-graduation direction.
After a brief attempt at higher education, I took a summer position as a helper on the crew of a local contractor in Adams County. It wasn't long before I realized that the hands-on application of mathematics, and the daily problem-solving of a construction site was of greater interest to me than the goals of my education. It seemed then, as now, that the sun on my back and sweat on my brow was a fine alternative to standing in front of a class room or sitting behind a computer monitor.
My first day on-site was a trial by fire. The task at hand was plywood-sheeting the roof on a ranch-house renovation. I monkeyed my way up into the web of trusses with my little nylon tool bag and got to work. That day, I hauled sheets of plywood up onto the roof, cut end pieces and valley sheets, unrolled tarpaper, and fetched plywood clips, drip-edge, tools, and lunch boxes. The work was hard, but at the time, though I knew my academic performance had been lackluster, I had every intention of leaving this all behind and returning to college at the end of the summer with a strong back and a fat bank account. That never happened.
I spent two years as a laborer with that crew, being schooled in the many facets of the trade. We framed houses, laid shingles, hung siding, pulled wires, insulated walls, painted trim and plaster, dug holes, poured concrete, built decks, picked up trash, hung drywall, installed windows. In the heat of summer, the cold of winter, trudging through snow, grumbling through rain, I hacked and dinged my body, bashing thumbs and pulling splinters. Though the days spent digging trenches or cleaning job sites were daunting, there is a concrete feeling of accomplishment when starting a week with a hole in the ground , and finishing it with a house in the same spot. Progress is visceral, and you feel it in the ache of muscles and feet.
After this tenure, I returned to education, and spent the better part of two years in pursuit of a degree. Higher education failed to stimulate me, and I returned to the construction site. After this second affair, I never strayed from the trades again. After twenty years, I would rather wield a tape measure than a laptop. The rush I get seeing a project develop physically, and the satisfaction of seeing a customers vision come to life, is what motivates me to continue building, and strive for excellence on every job.