“You work hard, you see the results of your labor, and you have the money to do what you want.”
I got into construction through the trade classes at Mead High School. That’s how I first learned how to frame a house. We visited some job sites, too, like the East Wing addition at Sacred Heart. I wasn’t really thinking about construction as a career—just working and having fun. I’d been putting in five or six days a week at my parents’ restaurant since I was about fourteen, first as a dishwasher and then working my way up to head cook.
After high school, I packed up my truck and drove to Alaska. I already knew some people up there working in construction, and it was booming, so the timing seemed right. It was pretty wild, though. Everybody worked their asses off, but they partied just as hard. Eventually it got so cold that I found myself sitting in front of a space heater, unable to get nails out of the box because they were frozen together. I thought, “@#$%! this.” So I sold my truck and came home.
Couple months later I moved down to Phoenix with a friend and got into commercial construction, eventually building projects at Arizona State University. I especially liked tower cranes—the rigging, setting them up, tearing them down. I was on the ASU campus for five years.
When I returned to Spokane, I went to work for Carroll Construction. One of our projects involved building cofferdams and crossing the Spokane River so crews could install a new sewer line. The job required somebody to work underwater, so I went out and got scuba certified. It was a fun project—and I still scuba dive.
Around 1999 or 2000, Bill Yates talked me into joining Bouten. I came in as a carpenter, even though I’d already run work, and I didn’t mind starting over. I worked on the retaining wall at PAML, the Madison Hotel, the children’s hospital, the women’s center, Lidgerwood School, and the convention center with Ken Bond and Marty Rowan. I was eventually given a chance to run work in the Tri-Cities. That’s where I met my wife, and we still live in Richland. I’ve been salaried for more than twenty years now and have probably worked with twenty-five project managers. Bouten has always kept me busy, always taken care of me, always been there for me.
I guess some of the things I’ve done make me sound fearless, but I’m not. I’ve been around enough serious accidents and close calls to know better. The thing is, I usually have an exit plan. I think things through. That doesn’t mean I’ve never screwed up. Once, while cutting feather wedges, I ran a Skilsaw into my hand and laid it open. I still have the scar, and now, if I see somebody cutting wedges that same way, I stop them immediately. My back has taken a toll after forty years in construction, too, but otherwise I’ve been pretty lucky. I still have all my digits.
To be fair, I probably did more stupid things away from work than I ever did on a jobsite. One night back in high school, we’d been drinking and decided to ride somebody’s cow. We somehow got one into a barn, I jumped on, and the cow took off. There was a beam across the barn that caught me and knocked me on my ass. I’m a little more cautious these days. I don’t want to do anything too stupid, and I’m well past the “hold my beer” stage of life. A few decades in construction will teach you to think about what can go wrong long before it ever does.
That said, I’ve never parachuted. I’d probably do it.
