Welcome back to my best, yet likely inaccurate, recollection of the history of BuildWitt.
While I aimed to make this one newsletter, it's now looking like a 38-week series, so either buckle up or unsubscribe now.
In the fall of my senior year of high school, a construction project in my neighborhood appeared.
Huge concrete pipe, a 385 excavator, and many upset upper-class residents. How DARE these construction workers prevent their high-end homes from future flooding!
I was like a shark to chum. Wait… Calling myself a shark is too generous. How about… Moth to a flame. That's better.
I couldn't get enough. I'd park my Toyota Camry down the street and watch from beyond the barricades on the afternoons I wasn't working at the aquarium store.
The street was narrow, but the trench was enormous to accommodate 108" pipe up to 30' deep. Due to the lack of space, the excavator operator carefully placed every bucket of spoils into tri-axle trucks. The trucks would haul the earth a stone's throw away for backfill or off-site.
Every truck read "PIERSON CONSTRUCTION CORPORATION" in huge lettering. The pissed-off residents didn't need to look far for whoever was responsible for the neighborhood terror, and I didn't have to either.
After a few months of watching the project, I mustered the courage to reach out. I have yet to find the same courage when approaching women, but that's a different newsletter.
I googled "Pierson Construction Corporation," researched who owned the company (Rich Pierson), and found the office phone number. I called, explained my situation, and asked to meet with Mr. Pierson. "One moment…"
After a nerve-wracking few minutes (overcoming immense adversity is a theme in my life), the receptionist connected me.
I repeated my rehearsed speech and finished by asking Mr. Pierson to meet. For whatever reason, he obliged.
Now, I know what you may be thinking… "Good for you for taking such initiative and asking the owner of a long-standing business to meet!" Sure, I did it myself, but that's where the credit ends.
As I explained, I grew up around business owners of all shapes and sizes. While many people have never interacted closely with anyone of significant authority or wealth, it's all I knew. I was nervous, but thanks to the good fortune of my upbringing, I had the skill.
I've asked many construction company owners, "if a kid walked into your office today and asked for a job, what would you say?" I've not had a single negative response. However, I recognize it's not normal for kids to do such a thing because they often lack the skills and the belief.
One week later, I was driving to the Pierson Construction HQ.
Mr. Pierson met me up front, and we walked to his office. He was older, around sixty, and his demeanor suggested he knew a thing or two. The Dirt World is one hell of a teacher.
He had a huge wooden desk and scale construction models scattered around the office. Papers and plans covered every surface. I loved it.
I began by asking him how he started the business. If you ask a contractor how they started, you better have a clear schedule. The stories got wild fast, ranging from vandalized equipment to labor disputes. The Wild Wild West was real, after all.
I then turned the conversation to his thoughts on what I should study and my career path. He suggested Construction Engineering at Arizona State, as he did. I based my entire decision to study engineering on that one conversation. Damn him.
He explained the differences between construction companies—first, between horizontal (Dirt World) and vertical construction (buildings). Until then, I viewed construction as one large entity. You mean every construction worker doesn't wear a giant tool belt?
Once I chose between vertical or horizontal, next was exploring different types of companies. Did I want to work for a local contractor on smaller projects but sleep in my bed every night? Or did I want to work for the biggest and baddest and travel the world?
I finished with two questions:
To my initial delight, the first answer was yes, and we set the date. But the second, arguably more important question?
He asked how old I was, and I responded, "seventeen." In a crushing turn of events, he couldn't hire me because the legal age to work in construction was eighteen. Maybe it's time to bring back child labor?
When the time came, I raced (never exceeding the speed limit for you safety folks) over to the site just as Mr. Pierson drove up in a huge pickup truck. Yep, I wanted to be just like him.
"Do you have a pair of pants?"
I looked down at my shorts, then confusingly back up at him. I didn't own a pair of pants.
"Wear pants next time," he said.
Off to a great start!
We walked over to the main show—the 385 Caterpillar excavator digging fully extended in the front yard of fancy Arcadia, Arizona homes.
I couldn't believe the size of the machine. I'd never seen an excavator even half as big around town. We walked up to the trench box it was digging within and could almost touch the boom. The noises it made were deafening, and the smell of earth, diesel, and grease were overwhelming. I was like a kid on Christmas morning. A weird kid, but a kid nonetheless.
As we watched, Rich Pierson gave me a play-by-play. It was like watching an NFL game from the sidelines with my friend Chris Collinsworth.
The 85-ton machine scratched the earth using a medieval-looking rock bucket covered in huge teeth, then switched to a larger bucket to load trucks, with every motion looking like a well-rehearsed ballet.
When it was time to lay another section of pipe, the excavator unpinned its bucket and lowered in a compactor. The pipelayers, who seemed so far down in the hole I nearly needed binoculars, toiled away to grade and compact the bedding (a term I learned after the fact).
As they finished, the excavator swung in a piece of pipe the size of a pickup truck attached by a single steel cable. The colossal structure slowly reached its resting place for the next 50+ years. With a single push of the machine, the pipe was home and digging resumed.
I was hooked before, but this was an entirely new drug.
As the tour concluded, Mr. Pierson left me with two pieces of advice:
I'll never forget it.
Fast forward to March 2017, only a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. I emailed Rich Pierson, asking for a job again.
He responded but said to write to him again closer to summer when I could start. The third time could be the charm...
Not one to roll over, I emailed again in April and finally got the response that officially began my career in the Dirt World.
I'd be a General Laborer on the Arcadia Project, making $13/hour, starting immediately after high school graduation. While every other kid was lost in whatever fancy schools accepted them, I was stoked to finally have a shot at being a construction worker! Dreams do come true!
Following the news and Mr. Pierson's advice, I had some shopping to do… Pants, boots, and other construction worker stuff?
After Googling where work boots were sold, I walked into Sears for the first time and picked up a pair of Timberland steel toes. Why Timberland? They looked the most construction worker-ish.
Then I bought myself a few pairs of jeans—my first ever. They were way too long (I'm 5'6"), but I could roll them up. No one would even notice. I was looking more like a construction worker by the minute.
Finally, the last step in my transformation… High-vis and a cooler for my lunch. I drove to the local swap meet and bought myself bright orange and yellow long-sleeve cotton shirts. I couldn't be more working-class at this point.
On the first Monday after graduation, I drove only a few minutes from my house to my new job in construction. It was around 5 AM in May. Still dark and already hot, the hotter months were yet to come.
A group of guys stood outside the job trailer, speaking in English and Spanish. Cigarette smoke hung in the air.
I asked for the foreman.
"Maybe the oompa loompa store has the right pair of pants for you?"
Careful what you wish for…
Chase and I walk down memory lane to recount what our recent California and Colorado trip was like. Derailments, snow storms, and the x-games… It was sick. Listen at the link below!
We were supposed to visit a massive tunneling project in Los Angeles, but torrential rain in So Cal had other ideas. Since there was a lot of precipitation, we planned an impromptu trip to check out snow plowing in Mammoth Lakes, California with the Plow Brothers.
Checking out snow plowing in Mammoth sounds fun, but it was a 5-hour drive from LA (1 way) so it made for a 10-hour day in the car together. We saw plenty of snow plowing, Eric complained a lot, and “snow mode” on the rental car wasn’t exactly up to par for this kind of precipitation.
And just clarifying for the haters... I swear I’m 5'6. Stay dirty, my friends!
#snowplowing #heavyequipment #snow
I’ll see you next week!