One job in particular was absolutely absurd. Spiritually, physically, mentally demanding and draining... Only once the job was finished did I see it for what it was, a gift.
It was a repairing a wet basement. The Oshawa home had a steady stream coming from the entire west side of the house. The process was to dig a trench to the base of the house; lay down some new pipe for draining; seal the outside wall; load the ditch with crushed stone; and then fill it back in.
When we looked at the job, it looked so eaaaaasssssy! We were even giggling about it. Half of hole was dug out and it was a straight forward dig and repair.
Plans changed. We should have clued in we were in for a job and a half because the reason the home owner's son quit digging in the first place was due to the hole collapsing on him... That's why they called us!
So when we got there, I figured I'd only need one mate to help me dig this nasty witch. A rather unwise decision. The dirt was like nothing I have ever seen before... I am pretty sure it was dirt from Mars. Mars dirt. It was a crumbly clay and stuck to the shovel like a glue. From the get go we were literally digging this 30' long by 4' wide by god knows how deep down crater by hand. My man James was making more progress by tossing hunks of clay out of the opening with his bare hands versus his shovel. Within the first two hours fear set in and I wanted to quit. I could not believe this pit... but we trudged on.
We had to brace one portion of the mud wall immediately because their neighbour's asphalt driveway was on the verge of collapsing into the blackhole.
My memory is a little weary, but as far as I remember the next day James and I went back at it and made some great headway. We found our groove. And just as we were enjoying the hot sun, the refreshing tracks brought to us by 9.49 the Rock FM, the hard workout, the sense of accomplishment, the f%*king wall caved in. The portion of the dirt partition fell right in front of us as we stood and watched. The buckled dirt reclaimed it's territory; all the space we create that morning was eliminated. Initially, we figured we did not have to set up more protective wood braces because we were still not that low in the ground. Now it sounds crazy, but it was the truth. This dirt had plans of its own. We took this setback with a grain of salt. Until the next collapse. My recollection tells me that we had another minor collapse before that day was done. Nothing to the same degree as the first fall, but a collapse non the less.
Day 3.
This time I brought an additional digger. We needed another man and not just physically but because our spirits were declining too. James and I were slowly digging our own grave. I think it was my brother who joined us this day. To keep it simple let me say that we had a rather productive day. We set up the wood forms for bracing as we dug and we made some good space in the trench.
Day 4.
As I stood over the trench studying yesterday's work, James riddled me with questions asking why I was looking into the ditch with such look on my face. It wasn't until he saw for himself that my facial expression made sense. Overnight, the hole collapsed, again. But not the top of the wall... right from underneath the current bracing.
Day 5.
James, my bother and I were back at it and taking care of business. We stayed strong through the past ordeals. We were getting smarter as a team and smarter with the process. We ended up splitting up our dig into two sections. We crushed the first half of the process with new draining and a sealant for the wall. We could see the light. We had been adding braces left, right and centre as we moved along. It was overkill for sure but we weren't taking any chances. It was late in the afternoon and we were a 3/4's of the way finished, when...
We were digging out the last quarter of mud, but we were stuck because the bracing we had up restricted us from digging out the last portion of the hole. Plus the current braces around this area needed to be reinstalled anyway, as they looked insecure. So I made the decision to knock out the horizontal 4'x4' support post allowing us to reinstall some new braces and make room for our remaining dig. I knocked it out and the wall held... but not for long. An avalanche occurred. We took another collapse. I guess we needed that brace... It is funny when we look back on it. We all said if we were just a little faster we could have prevented one of the greatest disasters of all time.
This landslide was not pretty either... James was in the hole as we were all hymning and hawing about what to do for the new braces. As I was yapping I noticed the earth shifting... "James get the f*#k outta there bro"... LOL... The plywood was still against the dirt and as the soil moved, it pinched James between the house and the plywood. Maybe it was more like a body check. He just barely squeezed out. At this point there was only one thing we could do, lunch.
During our late lunch, I got a call from the bossman. Grant came by to see our progress while we were out. He could not believe it. It was like a quarter of the dirt fell back into our hole. I made calls to friends and other knowledgeable ditch diggers to ask for help because I was truly worried we could not finish now. I was so lost, discouraged, helpless. I remember claiming to James that we were the number one show up in heaven. Everyone up there was tuning in to watch our adventure down here on earth.. There was nothing more redonkulous then "the dirt show".
It was when we returned from lunch and I was kicking dirt around and holding in tears that I received a phone call from a new found friend named Anthony. Anthony, who just got out of jail, indicated that he need to be around good people and needed a job... "Well Anthony, I got just the job for you!! I'll see you 10 min's, DON'T GO ANYWHERE!"
Back at it, and with an army. Grant, the bossman, joined the band. So there we were, determined to cure this disease; to rectify this catastrophe; to slay this dragon. And we did.
It took a few more days and half days to get everything back to normal. Even my precious sister came to my rescue. James was sent back to base to recoup. But we did it. Blood, sweat and tears, you betcha. 12-14 hour days, of course. The job of a lifetime, quite possibly.
And get this, it turns out the basement still leaks....
Just kidding....
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