Compressive Stress :: Fiction for the Reality of Construction

Crawlspaces can be stressfull places. They are dark and often hard to move around in. One can feel the weight of the building above and this uncomfortable, claustrophobic circumstance can color a workers decison making.

These photos show a piece of 1 x 4 pine. I pulled it from a makeshift support column in the crawlspace of a circa 1860′s home this week. It has withstood a tremendous amount of compressive stress parallel to the grain.

I was fascinated by this piece of wood and could not stop wondering what were the circumstances in which this undersized shim had found itself to be carrying so much weight. So, I made up a back story:

35 years ago…

Nathan was on auto pilot, he got that way after 6 hours In a crawlspace. He looked along the bottom of the sinking row of joists before him. They were logs really , with the bark still on their underside and only the top cut flat to support the floor. The bark made it really difficult to tell the woods condition. It was past three, it had to be, and it was Friday and Gene had left early and here he was blocking up joists on this stupid old house.

Nathan was taking his lead from those who had come before him. Those who had tried to fill up this crawlspace, solid with wood… If the floor is sinking throw some more wood at it, Cut a 4 x 4 and slam it in upright under this joist and pile some blocks and shims under that one. Nathan was about over it, the moist dirt had been grating at his scalp since he had left his cap outside at lunch. He was getting paid to care about a space that people had been paid to care about before. Only they hadn’t cared much. Maybe they weren’t paid much.

Nathan had cared at 9 AM this morning even though he was not being paid much. He prided himself that he gave a damn. He was coming to the end of the wood he had brought down for shimming. He needed one piece. If Gene were out there he could have handed him a piece through the vent. Nathan thought about the long trip out of the crawlspace on his belly. Then he thought about the trip back in and he reached out around with his hands feeling for something he could use for a shim. This area was heavy, He needed a friggin 4 x 4, or at least a two by four on its side but all he came with was a short piece of 1 x 4 which had probably been down here since they built the house. He thought of the three long trips on his sharply protesting stomach and unceremoniously slammed the 1 x 4 into place.

Veronica threw a piece of popcorn which hit Nathan on the nose. “wake up!” she said.

“Sorry” he said, tenderly rubbing his belly, “I was just thinking about work.”