I got to thinking yesterday, what with all the looking back that goes on at New Years. Who or what was your greatest influence, I mean why did you choose to go into the trades?
For me, it was my dad. He was an architect and a frustrated wood-worker. He loved to be hands on and build things like furniture etc. I think that I got my love of “hands on work” from him. He also taught me a lot about honesty & integrity which has served me very well over the years as I have lived my life and run my own business.
I am really lucky in that I enjoy what I do to make a living but I’m always curious as to what brings other people in to this field.
Happy New Year! BILL
Replies
Dad and G pa.
They built the house I grew up in before I was born. G pa was a carpenter builder back in the early 1900's. Built some real beauties mostly now in run down hoods.
Dad was slightly physically handicapped (really bad rhuematoid (sp) arthritis) so he went more cereberal and ran an excavating company for his boss. He still had the talent though, and built lots of stuff around the house including an addittion that I remember in the early sixties.
Bud of mine just returned from the Army, says his builder dad is coming out of semi retirement to build again. I was a gear head, but this sounded cool. His dad was affectionately refferred to as the "old man". Taught me a lot.
G pa and dad have too, they just do it looking over my shoulder though. They've been gone for a while. Think about them all the time as it relates to my work.
Someone did a thread like this a year or so ago. maybe someone will dig it up.
Eric
[email protected]
It's Never Too Late To Become What You Might Have Been
My Grandpappy,
He was a big shot insurance broker in NYC full time but in his off time he bought and fixed up houses they lived in... then sold and moved and did it again. He really wasn't great at it because he only had so much time for it but you could see it was in his blood. You could see how much he loved doing it. He was quite the character too. Born in 1895 in Brklyn'. This guy was around the block more than most. I can remember as a kid him picking me up at least once a week to go to the junk yards in Corona Queens. Near where Shea Stadium and LaGuardia Airport is. We'd spend hours in there picking out garbage to buy and take back to the houses he was working on. He'd try and fit his new trasures in some kinda way. He was a real pissa.
I musta been about ten years old and Granpappy was picking me up to take me to lunch at the "chinks" (oiy) accross the street. I'm looking out my window from the second floor in our apt bldg and see this "pink" caddy drive up. You guessed it. He painted his new caddy "pink"! Don't ask. This guy made everything fun. He's the one the inspired me to get into building and be creative.
Funny though, I never heard him talk about the insurance biz,,,he spoke more about his brother who was a cut throat Supreme Court Judge. Another character.
back to work
Be well
andyThe secret of Zen in two words is, "Not always so"!
When we meet, we say, Namaste'..it means..I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides, I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth, of peace. I honor the place within you where if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us.
Definitely my father, though he didn't want me in the trade. Made sure I got through school and got my law license. I told him I was going to do houses and retire from law and he argued with me constantly. Actually, the first time I said this in the late 80's, I wanted to partner with him and he flat out refused. He was a craftsman, no two ways about that.
He's gone five years and sometimes when I get into the basement full of his tools and stuff, I still have conversations with him.
There are a few guys around here that really help keep it enjoyable too. Without naming names, it's nice to get some feedback that works and some support when it doesn't. I've been hanging here for less than a year and it's become a part of my life for sure. It's been an education - low cost too.
Don K.
EJG Homes Renovations - New Construction - Rentals
My dad was a craftsman as a hobby - a real perfectionist. Made his own archery bows, rifle stocks. I decided never to be a perfectionist like him - takes all the joy out of it. He was forever going ballistic when everything didn't go perfect. My mom has always been hands-on: sewing, china painting, oil painting, watercolor, knitting, quilting, etc.
My older brothers introduced me to balsa and tissue model airplanes when I was young. I really got into these detailed balsa models, 3 and 4 foot wingspans. Loved making stuff. Always found shop class easy, ended up doing everyone else's projects for them. Studied graphic arts in college. Didn't try building until I was 24. Been at it, off-and-on, for half my life now.
A few guys were very instrumental along the way. A handful of the j-men I worked with were exceptionally talented, and very free with their knowledge. Brent Coffee, Richard Varela, George Carole, Gary Fenstermaker. One contractor in particular, Jim DaPra, gave me my first shot at job management/supervision, and I thus discovered another area I enjoyed. One contractor I worked for, Bob Thurman, was a fanatical perfectionist - no fun to be around, but incredibly knowledgeable, a natural teacher. He studied architecture, and used to design and build custom homes in the Ojai/Ventura area. I learned a lot from that guy!
Even when I've tried my hand at other types of jobs, I always kept building or remodeling on the side. I've been a graphic artist, highway landscape maintenance worker, mailman, furniture store manager, and always end up coming back to construction/carpentry.
Wow really got me think'n.... I can trace most of what i know to who it was i learned it from... building, welding, mechanical,people,banking,ect...
the balsa models... did that... the hunting, fishing, trapping, raced go karts(built my own motors @12yo) raced dirt bikes, dirt track cars, always financed by me even @12yo... built my own 24x24 garage @15 so i'd have a place to work... no matter what it was I can give credit to my dad... I'm lucky to still have him, he would & can do anything...
I learned that there was a manual or book to everything ever made usually at the library (sp) (way pre internet) and that take'n your time my 2 hands will do anything anyone elses will... I was lucky to grow up in a situation where I was permitted to have anything i wanted...
as long as i got it myself honestly...
I don't know how my mom lived... with me out race'n and be'n called to the hospital way more times than i can count... but it was never even mentioned that i shouldn't do something...
I try to figure many things out... Both my parents came from what would be considered "well to do famlies" and I'd have to think my mom was even spoiled have'n spent much time with my grandfather (her dad)... and I'm pretty sure my parents could have afforded to buy me many things they didn't... I'm not complaining that they didn't...JUST... Being faced with the same situation how do I show restraint in what i give my kids... heck... i like/want/enjoy the same toys they do... maybe it's every other generation...
they truly extended trust to the untrusted so that he could become trustworthy and for that.... the best i can do is the same as often as i can
p
My third grade teacher heard some boys teasing my attempts at something, and she took me aside and said "girls can do anything a boy can do". She was a crusty old gal, and was a riveter during WWII. My gradma worked on planes, too.
Of all the people who influenced me in construction, I remember Hank, one of the old carpenters I first worked with. His hands were gnarled from doing carpentry so many years,and basically didn't say anything except to call apprentices "Numnutz" and who told me once "don't let it kick your butt" That sentiment has gotten me through a lot of rough times in my life.
Jencar
I think about this all time and customers always ask me, always the women. I kind of shrug my shoulders and not bother with deep explanations.My father is an attorney and a died in the wool believer in justice and human rights. He pushed me to believe that I had a right to be whatever I wanted. Also, he had bought a huge victorian when I was young and hired a carpenter fulltime for about a year to work on it. He was an old man about late sixties and about 6' something tall. Would come to work in striped overalls, a cotton work shirt and even the striped engineer's cap to match. He chewed a giant plug of tobacco, carried his lunch in a metal black lunch pail and always ate his lunch in the garage. He was so humble. I would sit with him in the garage in the summers and talk to him. I held him in awe. I never saw him work much as I was often doing my own thing, but when I did, he seemed to flow with such little effort!My father constantly went on and on about old houses and the sunday after church tradition was to drive around in the historic districts around town or other towns and look at the houses.I also had an uncle who was a builder and i thought he was pretty cool.In addition, I learned small handi-man tasks to keep up the place I lived in as a single mother in exchange for rent when times were tough. I always HATE office work and love the feeling at the end of the day after working hard -- and the feeling of creating something that makes someone's life better, richer or more beautiful.What more can I say? Oh, my biz partner and absolute best friend is a carpenter/framer of 40 years and I put him on a pedestal everyday. He doesn't use this forum as he doesn't like computers. he is an artist and i can only hope to learn half of what comes to him now just by intuition.
Oh, and those of you who see my many posts will notice I've done a lot of different things. Now I've finally found something I truly enjoy.
I think we're kindred spirits! If I go a week without building up a sweat breaking out a wall or carrying a bunch of doors, I feel unfulfilled!;) And the addictive feeling of doing a nice job on a project is a combination of ego and doing something that someone appreciates and values. I work for a school district, and it cracks me up when kids come in when I'm working in their classroom (they don't seem to notice the tool belt) and ask me if I'm the substitute...and I tell them "No, I'm the carpenter"
I had a builder uncle, and another one was an architect. My bro is a framer in MO...I've heard it runs in families.
Have a good weekend....
Jen
Jen:Good to you here, keep up the work. We need more. Frankly, I haven't seen one owrking women carpenter around here in the residential arena. Maybe in the union there are more. I dunno. There is one woman who runs her own company, guys tell me she's tough as nails and kinda hard to work for. I think sometimes a woman can get labeled that pretty easily. I know I have and I don't think I'm that bad...:)
To some extent my pop and his dad. Having an old man around to cuss and grunt at you about man things, that's important for a kid. I think we need more old cusses around to do that service. Maybe make them a part of the required day care staff.
But the real guy who did the kickin in the shorts, God Bless him wherever he is now, was Steve Frasier. He was a good ol Missouri boy, he'd done carpentry most of his life except for the couple of years of it he spent in Vietnam getting shot at and shot down. He'd been a WO who flew choppers. It sounded neat to a 15yo, but I have now reconsidered my notions of that unenviable task.
He struck most people as a little slow and illiterate, which he was, and it dawned on me that I had more respect for him than I did about anyone else older than me, even though my upbringing had more or less put some pretty unfavorable labels on that kind of thing. Which got me to asking why. He was secure in who he was and what he did. There were no pretenses. Just a straight shootin decent guy with nothing to prove to anyone and he didn't much care if you liked him or not, which made it pretty hard to not. And he knew what he was doing.
Steve nodded when I got it right. Told me to rip it all apart and do it again when I arfed it up. He let me drive his truck (huge, huge bonus). He let me use his tools. The day I crashed hard falling off a ledge and was one big bundle of blood and raw skin he was the guy who stayed so calm he could have gone to sleep, slit my jeans open with a razor knife and patched me up before I knew what was really going on.
Steve made sure I understood the rules. Rules of life. Respect is earned. You can want it all you want, but you have to do, not talk. Men drink coffee. Men smoke cigars. Men don't care if they're dirty. Some forms of dirt are actually good. Bonus points if you're a teen and your mama can't get it back out of the clothes you were wearin. Men drive trucks. Not because trucks are macho, but because men work for a living and thats what trucks are for. Kind of hard to put a 2x4 into a sedan.
Steve bought me my first toolbelt and hammer out of his own pocket, and I still have them both. I climbed my first scaffolding with him, got shot by a brad the first time with him, used an enormous planer under his guidance that had seen former duty in WWII carting aircraft through the Pacific, it was that big. God had used his radial arm saw in constructing the world and it was a hand me down to Steve, but it still cut, well, everything that got near it.
I think the most fun I had with him was a day we were laying VCT on the 3rd floor of a dorm and we were cleaning the squeeze out with Turpentine. We were also using a propane torch periodically to soften tiles that needed cutting. The two of those occurrances at one point got a little too close to each other and so that was also the first day I ever got to grab a fire extinguisher off a wall and charge into a smoking room. He made it but the beard took a couple of months to return to its former self. I think that might have been the day I knew I'd found a calling that wouldn't let go of me easily. It sure beat the snot out of sitting at a desk.
"A bore is a man who, when you ask him how he is, tells you." -Bert Taylor
I like Steve Frasier. View Image
Nice rememberance. The world could use some more Steve Frasiers'...Buic
Thanks, to you and diesel. Kind of miss the guy. Just have the memories."A bore is a man who, when you ask him how he is, tells you." -Bert Taylor
I don't think I ever really considered another job. I was given my first set of 'real' carpenters tools when I was 8. I started sweeping floors, and tearing off roofs when I was 14. Started working full time the day after I graduated high school.
I've had a few other jobs when I was fed up working for family members, or others, but I've always found my way back to carpentry work. Now that I've been on my own. I can't imagine ever doing anything else.
The mailman...20 years ago showed my mailman(working out of my garage) a freshly refinished piece of furniture that i had completed. I asked "how does it look?" He looks at me with a smug smirk and says, "don't quit your day job". I will never forget his face. stinky
My great grandfather united the plumbers & fitters into one local in our area (local 32 Seattle Wa)
His son My grandfather -moms side was a plumber then an inspector
On my dads side his father my grandfather was a steam fitter
My dad was a plumber
So me being the 4th gen at this I guess you could say it's in my blood.
Family: my grandad on mom's side ran a sawmill and I still remember going to it with him and seeing that massive blade, and him eyeing it with pride at how he used to sharpen it (BTW, he was too modest to boast about this, but my uncles told me about it). Other grandad was the dean of engineering at a college, but spent more time in the school's woodshop than any other administrator--it was his second office apparently. He left behind more furniture than some houses could hold.
Friends: Andy Engel and Tom O'brien--had the fortunate experience to work at Taunton for a few years and was even more fortunate to get to know these two guys. Ironically, I never really worked with them, except on another editor's house once, but their knowledge and friendship has meant more to me than anything. I know that I've called Tom or Andy more than once on the cell phone, at the job site, saying something like, "Umm...I'm looking at this and it doesn't look right...what I'd do wrong?" <g>
Finally, gotta say my two girls: only 6 and 9, but I've never met better general contractors than those two. They draw plans, spec material ("Daddy, can you get a pink slide?") and are always interested in helping...most of the time...and if there are snacks involved, because there are always snacks on the jobsite, right?
Tim
my Dad and my brother influenced me ... worked for/with both remodeling while growing up.
coupla great sales managers helped mold my sales oriented brain.
worked for one psychotic/impossible to please boss that challenged me and made me realize the impossible just might be possible.
my buddy Joe ... great lead carp that was never in a position to simply say No to said psychotic boss ... so Joe always found a way.
indirectly ... both grand fathers.
directly ... my kid. Who's constant need for food and shelter gets me outta bed every morning.
Jeff
Buck Construction
Artistry In Carpentry
Pittsburgh Pa
In the 70's and early 80's there wasn't much work in WI so I hitchhiked all over the place looking for work and adventure. I got alot of rides from carpenters in pickups. The rides were short 20-50 milesbut they helped out. Most of the guys were really nice. They weren't afraid of a skinney kid and at least they could afford a truck. In those days I never thought I would ever be able to afford a vehicle.
I got here by pure accident. I grew up on a dairy farm where my gift for my 12th birthday was that I was now old enough to get up and milk cows before going to school. Prior to that I got to sleeep in until 5:30 and just had to go out and feed the calves before school. So I learned early that I would never be a dairy farmer.
In the mi 60's we had a Texas president who thought he could rule the world. In 1967 after finishing college he sent me a letter inviting me to help. During my tour as a scout dog handler in Viet Nam I got hooked on helicopters and went to flight school and ended up in the Army for 10 years. A GA president came along and decided that the military was a waste of money and we were only allowed to fly one hour a month so I left.
Beging a genuine vetran I took the benifits seriously and one was 6 months unemployment. I bought a cheap house in a getto that was in transition. Just as I finished up a fella came buy one day and asked if I'd be interested in doing his kitchen. Nothing ventured nothing gain was how I saw it. He was a banker and hung around quite a bit during the project. Always helpful never complained. He had said several time that is sure was much more fun than banking. The job took 3 months and when it was over he asked what I was doing next and I told him I had a flying job at Xerox startibf the following month.
A week after I had finished his kitchen he came to my house with the offer that he'd hire me to run a small construction company he'd decided to start and would better any salary I could get flying.
In two years I was half owner and in 10 years he died of a heart attack so I got his wife as a business partner. That didn't work out very well so I offered her my half of the business at a bargan price and went into flying.
I found overseas airlines paid much better and you were allowed to fly on more than autopilot. My first flying job was for a small French airline in west Africa. There was lots of construction going on there in the late 80s and as I only flew 2 days a week to Paris and back I had plenty of free time.
For 10 years I combined flying and construction and together they got me to some very interesting parts of the world.
In the mid 90s I stopped flying and most travel. I now build a house or 2 just to keep out of my wifes hair. Where I live now is beginning to be overrun with athletes and TV folks so there is a nice demand for the kind of projects I enjoy. Not over excited about how well the track lights focus on the super bowl ring or emmy but the checks are always good.
From:
PeteVa <!----><!---->
I got here by pure accident. I grew up on a dairy farm where my gift for my 12th birthday was that I was now old enough to get up and milk cows before going to school. Prior to that I got to sleeep in until 5:30 and just had to go out and feed the calves before school. So I learned early that I would never be a dairy farmer. In the mi 60's we had a Texas president who thought he could rule the world. In 1967 after finishing college he sent me a letter inviting me to help. During my tour as a scout dog handler in Viet Nam, I got hooked on helicopters and went to flight school - and ended up in the Army for 10 years. A GA president came along and decided that the military was a waste of money and we were only allowed to fly one hour a month, so I left. Beging a genuine veteran I took the benefits seriously, and one was 6 months unemployment. I bought a cheap house in a ghetto that was in transition. Just as I finished up a fella came buy one day and asked if I'd be interested in doing his kitchen. 'Nothing ventured nothing gained' was how I saw it. He was a banker and hung around quite a bit during the project. Always helpful never complained. He had said several times that is sure was much more fun than banking. The job took 3 months and when it was over he asked what I was doing next and I told him I had a flying job at Xerox starting the following month. A week after I had finished his kitchen he came to my house with the offer that he'd hire me to run a small construction company he'd decided to start and would better any salary I could get flying. In two years I was half owner and in 10 years he died of a heart attack so I got his wife as a business partner. That didn't work out very well, so I offered her my half of the business at a bargan price and went into flying. I found overseas airlines paid much better and you were allowed to fly on more than autopilot. My first flying job was for a small French airline in west Africa. There was lots of construction going on there in the late 80, and as I only flew 2 days a week to Paris and back, I had plenty of free time. For 10 years I combined flying and construction and together they got me to some very interesting parts of the world. In the mid 90's I stopped flying and most travel. I now build a house or 2 just to keep out of my wife's hair. Where I live now is beginning to be overrun with athletes and TV folks, so there is a nice demand for the kind of projects I enjoy. Not over excited about how well the track lights focus on the super bowl ring or emmy but the checks are always good.
Edited 1/8/2006 2:40 pm by Huck
My whole family started my fascination with this line of work. Grandfathers on both sides, Azbury the Hardwood floor god couldn't read or write but blindfolded he couldn't miss a single time. Grandpa Larry each morning sitting on a five gallon bucket in his garage drinking coffee smoking cigarettes at 4:00 in the morning, if you were late to work you'd better be dead or hospitalized. Be an hour early not five minutes late he always said.
Then my Uncles Keith, Tim, Scott, Mike, Chester, and Don all are/were successful carpenters in their days I looked up these men as a child and still do today. When I turned 12 we built a house every 2 years and sold it. Glamorous life to a 12 year old who thought carpenters were gods perfect creation. My family members would get together and frame these houses, shingle them, install the siding, cabinets, and trim.
Now as a young man I'm the owner of a small construction company built on these principles I learned from these men. I know why I wake up at 4:00 every morning without an alarm. I know why I'm the first at the job and last to leave. Because this is what they all did and I always wanted to like them.
My Uncle recently retired from the Carpenters Local and came to work with me, at 50 some years old this man defined workhorse. I'm sure he's lost a step which is scary that man never stopped. He moved to Hawaii a couple of weeks ago and I realized how much I'd actually became these people which I still look up to.
I often ask myself if I would make them all happy with what I am now or what I've become one day I'll know. I don't call myself a carpenter, the men I looked up to were carpenters I'll try but probably will never match up. All I know its always been pumping through my vains and I love it.