MORE POWER TO YOU

We headed to the worksite the first morning after we arrived in New Orleans.  It was a shotgun house in the lower 9th ward, a long, narrow dwelling that was a single room wide and a few rooms deep with no hallway. Popular folklore says that the home’s design allows a shotgun to fire a bullet through the open front door, straight through each room and out the back door unscathed.  Not sure why you would need to do this but just in case you did. Arranging all the doors in a single line through the house helped with cooling the home by encouraging a cross breeze.  The home, destroyed during Katrina, had been taken on as one of the projects for PDA, an organization that brought volunteers to different locations after natural disasters to help rebuild.  This was my first trip as one of those volunteers.  

There were seven of us of various ages ranging from 50 - 74.   Yes, 74, an incredible strong and sweet woman who I want to be when I grow up. The house had been gutted and reframed and it was our responsibility to sheet rock the entire house over the next week.  It had been two years since Katrina and Miss Barbara, the woman who owned the house, had her money stolen by a crooked contractor and had no other way to rebuild.  It was a bit daunting when we first arrived since none of us had ever sheet rocked before but as Audrey, the young 20-something volunteer leader of the group started instructing us, acting as if we were totally capable of doing this, we found our mojo and got our butts in gear and jumped right into the project.  

Four of us were holding up a large piece of sheetrock.  The sweat was dripping down the sides of our face and back and Audrey pops in with her cordless drill. 

She jumps on a ladder and presses the tip of the drill to a corner of the sheetrock - bzzzt, 

over to another corner - bzzzt, and another and then the last bzzzt bzzzt.  

“You’re good” she says.  

We let go as she moves from one side of the sheetrock to the other putting in another 20-30 screws in less than a minute to hold it all in place.  Whoa!!  Just like that the piece is up and we are ready for the next.   A cordless drill that acts as an electric screwdriver - I want one!!  I take over for Audrey with the electric drill and before long I am just as quick and just as efficient.  And really really proud of myself.  

By day we worked for 8-10 hours on sheet rocking.   By night we did our chores at the common dorms, ate dinner and headed to bed for a long awaited respite from the heat and our aching muscles.  We would once again rise at 530 or 6 depending on whether or not it was our turn to cook breakfast and then head back out to the house and repeat.  For a lot of reasons this was a truly wonderful and rewarding trip.  The comeraderie, the sense of accomplishment, the beautiful city and people of New Orleans.  But by far the most awesome and unexpected part of this trip was my foray into and then love of the world of power tools.  

“How are we going to do THIS?”  I asked looking at a piece of sheetrock that needed a hole to accommodate a fairly large pipe.

“No problem”, my more experienced, confident co-workers explained

They handed me a a hole saw.  

“What’s this?” 

“A hole cutter.  The annular kerf creates a hole in the sheetrock without having to cut up the core material.”  

I had no idea what an annular kerf was but it sounded kind of sexy.  

I took the hole saw in my hand and knelt down in front of the sheetrock.  A circle had already been drawn.  As Barbara and Leslie held the sheetrock I centered the saw on the hole, goggles down, mask up, held my breath and switched it on.  Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip Just like that a hole made - the perfect size for the pipe.  Nice!  

Putting up dry wall is a heavy job.  It’s an even heavier job in the Big Easy in 90 degree heat with 90% humidity.  We wore T-shirts and heavy pants to protect our legs from bumps and scratches.  Some of us wore headbands to cool ourselves off and we drank water by the gallon.  By the end of the day I was dusty and dirty and sweaty, muscle fatigued, bumped and bruised.  But I was ecstatic!  I was loving the power tools.  Power tools have an untamed spirit that says anything can happen and I can make it happen!  Power tools get things done fast! Power tools let us pretend we can do anything!  Power tools can erase the past!  Power tools are a good excuse to make a mess! Yes!

Looking up at the narrow doorway I could see that we had to trim some of the sheetrock away.  Once again Audrey appeared.  She handed me a hefty little saw, smiled and said “You’re going to love this.  Its a Sawzall reciprocating saw, 3000 strokes per minute.  But be careful.   If you manage to get the blade in a bind, it’s powerful enough to throw you on the ground.”  She had a twinkle in her eye.  You could tell this was one of her favorites.  Passing my hand over its smooth body, fingering its blade I looked at it with awe.  She knew she had my attention.  Goggles down, powder flying everywhere but in just minutes the edges are smooth and lined up with the wood frame.  Bingo! I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I returned home from Katrina declaring to my husband that for Christmas I wanted a reciprocating saw.

Our next trip was to Austin, Texas where we were to help people rebuild their homes after some devastating fires.  My group was nailing up siding . . . with nail guns that shoot nails mounted on long clips much like a machine gun.  Dangerous power and I was hooked, I knew I  had to try it.  While my partner held the siding in place I used the nail gun to attach it - 40-60 nails a minute.  Whoo!  Such a rush! 

In addition to making you feel all powerful and invincible, power tools have their own very cool jargon.  Words like annular kerf, nipple bits, diamond knock out, angle grinder, bugle head screw, swarf, wacker packer.  How can you NOT have captivating conversations with those words in your vocabulary?

The attire that goes with the power tools adds another level of allure.  The tool belt hanging seductively on my hips making me swagger when I walk. The belt holds my more minor tools - screws, hammer, measuring tape, and pencil right at my fingertips.  My knee pads on for when I’m crawling around on the floor.  Heavy work gloves to make me feel really bad ass and goggles perched atop my head for easy access when needed. I feel ready to create!   and to create fast!  and messily!  Sometimes I would walk around the dorm in my power tool clothes just to show off.

Due to my schedule and then Covid I haven’t gone on one of our building trips in a few years and I miss my power tools.  Jon has a circular saw I could use to feed my addiction but what I’m really looking for is a  diamondback tile saw, a big miter saw or maybe  a monster chainsaw.  Last year I got to drive my friend’s tractor at her farm.  Whoa!  I think I might even switch over to driving large machinery - cherry pickers, bulldozers, forklifts  .  .  . yeah!