Miracles? posted 11/1/2009 10:02:05 AM | 3 kudos what's this?     report abuse

sloriver

In the late seventies, after honing my skills as a construction worker and carpenter, and having taken a turn as an operating engineer, I decided it was time to roll the dice and see if I could make it in business. My wife was against it. She thought it was too large a risk when I had a good job and a future with the company I was with. I wanted the brass ring, though. I saw myself sitting in the office or bidding jobs while my workforce did the sweating. OK, it sound a little pompous now but maybe that’s what it takes to succeed. At any rate, you don’t make a big success by sweating for the other guy. So I took the plunge.

I bought a pickup truck and ladder, a typewriter and file cabinets, and a very early book keeping program for my Commodore 64 computer. I had proposals and letterhead printed with some very nice artwork and billing statements with the letterhead. I applied for space in the Yellow Pages and got signed up for the next year. The problem was I couldn’t get a Yellow Page listing until the new book came out in six months . I did some advertizing in the newspaper and did some direct mailings to companies that might be interested in a sub contractor and then did the best work I could do to try to get some word of mouth going. Then the recession of 1979 hit. Work was scarce and new construction took a hit. People delayed repairs to their homes and work dried up. I’d only been in business a few months and was working on a shoestring. It was disaster for me.

Winter struck with a vengeance that December. We had weeks of bone numbing cold and what work there was couldn’t be done anyway. The ground froze so solid that no excavation could be done to start projects. I sat at home waiting for a call from anyone for anything at all. I would have pick axed that frozen ground if someone had a dollar to pay. No calls came and the small nest egg I’d started with dwindled. I was behind on my mortgage and in one more month I’d have three months backlog and foreclosure would commence. I was behind with the electricity and gas bills and finally, the savings account was dry and there was less than fifty dollars in checking. I watched the snow swirl around the yard with the fierce winds of late January. Going outdoors was unwise for anyone with breathing problems. The air sucked the heat out of your lungs and made you cough and gasp.

My older son was in Cub Scouts and I was involved with the Cub Pack as a leader so when a roller skating outing was planned I went with my wife and kids. It was great fun and took my mind off the money problems for the moment. I was helping one of the kids adjust his skates when I heard a yell from the rink and looked up to see people hovering around someone who had fallen. I had a sinking feeling as I looked around for my wife and didn’t see her. I skated over to the group on the rink and my wife was lying on the floor with a broken leg. She was rushed to the hospital and put in a cast. There was no insurance to pay the bill and I had to sign a wage assignment to get treatment. I was lucky to get that.

The next few days were a nightmare. My wife lay in bed in pain while I watched the kids and got them off to school. One day my wife asked that I bring her some toast so I went to the kitchen and opened the last of the bread. One half loaf. I figured I’d make grilled cheese for dinner. There was no milk and no soup to go with them and no money to buy any. I was flat broke. I took two slices of toast out of the toaster and put on some butter, grabbed some jelly and took it to the bedroom on a tray. My wife picked up a piece and said, “I want some fresh. This is all stale and cold”.
I went back and counted the slices. I’d just make it if I had the cold toast for breakfast and used the heel pieces for my dinner. I made fresh toast for my wife and wrapped it in a paper towel so it wouldn’t get stale and cold in the desert dry air in the house. She had no idea how desperate our situation was. I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d have to swallow my pride and do something I’d never done before. I’d have to ask relatives for a loan.

That night I tucked the kids into bed and threw an extra blanket on them as the temperature plunged to 22 below zero and the wind picked up, rattling the windows and swirling noisily around the eaves. The wind increased during the night. A freak low pressure system had caused the wind to gust to sixty MPH and a sustained 40. Wind chill factors went to over 80 below. The wind lasted most of the night as I sat there in the living room watching the drapes move in the air leaking around the windows. The house was cold while the furnace ran constantly trying to keep up.

Morning came bright and sunny and still very cold but the worst was over. Temperatures climbed back to single digits all morning and into the low teens by afternoon. I looked out the window as I sent the kids off to school that morning bundled like little smurfs. I noticed shingles on the ground; not just a few but a LOT. The phone rang. I picked it up and someone asked if they could get a roof repair. I said I’d be there in ten minutes. I loaded a selection of roofing shingles in the truck, put on my insulated coveralls, and left the phone at the bedside so my wife could answer it. I did the repair quickly and collected 49 dollars cash for the minimum one hour labor charge. It took a half hour to finish. I called home from a pay phone and had three more calls. I made three repairs in the next four hours, collecting two checks and one cash payment. Calling home I had six more calls. I worked until it was too dark to see. When I got home I had over four hundred dollars, enough to make a house payment and small payments on the gas and electric, and to buy more bread. Over the next two weeks I did over 40 repairs on roofs, siding, and gutters. I even shoveled a driveway.

Two weeks later the weather broke and I got a call to sub contract a school roof a few miles away. I was back in business. Do miracles happen? I think so. A winter storm and brittle shingles were my miracle in the winter of ’79-80. Are we tested to the end of our endurance? Yes, many times during our lives. I believe in the light at the end of the tunnel, and as some of you know, I believe in silver linings. Peace!

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