CHAPTER 5 – Spring, 1981 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Regrouping, and planning for the summer

For seven months I had worked toward the singular goal of constructing a strong foundation for our home. With that foundation finally planted in January, I experienced the euphoria of a major accomplishment.

More importantly, I experienced a huge feeling of relief that I could slow down, regroup – and simply think things through.

As the concrete cured in January and February, I was into the project to the tune of $9129.43, about a third of which was the cost of the land. In addition to a big 'ol block of concrete, I also had a caved-in septic tank to repair and a number of other projects to tackle before the summer-1981 push to frame the house.

The first order of business following the concrete-

truck mishap was to fashion a new concrete lid

for the septic tank. Fortunately, the tank had

never been used – it was clean and dry.

Above: I designed a temporary support system

of small pieces of wood that could easily be

removed through a hatch – once the new concrete

lid had cured.

Not the least of these spring projects was the successful completion of my second year of teaching journalism at Travis High School. Spring was the frantic season of completing the yearbook and competing in scholastic contests, along with publishing the monthly student newspaper . . .

. . . Oh, and I had one more spring project! Our child was on the way – I was to become a father in June.

This is a photo of Anne and my Mom, Lee, in a field of Texas bluebonnets about three months before Anne gave birth to Chris.

As corny as it sounds, we were building a home for our new 1981 family.

All of the wood for this project was recycled from the slab foundation forms. These planks are supported by the posts shown in the first photo.  The box-like structure forms the "hatch." These square forms were designed to create a portal through the concrete that would allow me to crawl down into the tank and remove all the supporting wood – once the concrete had cured.

In addition to providing access to haul all this wood out of the tank, the hatch would also allow for future septic pumping/cleanout when necessary.

A wider view of the septic-tank forms with square "hatch."

I placed plastic sheeting over the wood forms prior to installing rebar.  This would make it easier for me to remove the forms from below once the concrete had cured.  The sloped indentation in the center was designed to provide extra support to the back-side wall of the tank, which was slightly bowed by the cement-mixer truck that caved into it in January. 

On the left side: At the last minute, I came up with a brilliant idea.: install plumbing for a temporary toilet to be used during construction.   I would need to build a tool shed, anyway, so why not build the temporary shed directly over this tank and put a potty on it?

My Dad helped me mix the concrete.  In the foreground you can barely see the top of the square wooden "hatch" that would provide a portal to beneath.

This is the flange and water-supply pipe for the temporary tool-shed toilet.

Anne checks out the work on the new septic-tank lid.

Recycling wood like crazy: I built the toolshed using some of the same boards that began their journey on the walls of Perry Rose Firestone in Downtown Austin – sometime the mid-20th Century.  When they tore down that tire dealership in 1980, I bought a load of scrap wood and hauled it to the lot.  My friend Dave Mosteller came out one afternoon and helped me pull all the nails out of the planks.

These boards went from the walls of the tire dealership to become the formwork on this slab foundation. Then I recycled them again for the septic forms; and finally, for this toolshed.

The toolshed with some paint.  In the foreground, scrap-lumber fire.

This was the first delivery of "sandy loam," a soil that comes from dredging the Colorado River bottoms east of Austin.   In future years, such deliverys of dirt were sometimes big events for my son, Chris, his cousins Zach and Adam, and neighborhood kids.  They would spend endless hours sculpting the mound with toy trucks, building tunnels, and generally amusing themselves in those early 1980s days of no electronic gadgets, no Internet.  Just good, clean dirt!

Later in the 1980s, fire ants decided that they just loved building their beds in this sandy loam.

The hatch.  I crawled down into the tank and removed all the supporting formwork for the septic-tank lid through this portal.

A view of the toolshed/potty with an authoritative no-trespass sign.  Part of my Texas birthright! Actually, the sign was meant to deter some of the neighborhood kids from vandalizing things. Shortly after I poured the slab, some kids spray painted graffitti onto the side of it.

Though the photo is a bit fuzzy, I believe this is my brother Billy, who came out to survey the operations while on a break from Stephen F. Austin State. He wanted to see exactly what he was getting into. In a few months he would partner up with me on our 2-man framing crew.

Sneak Preview:  Below, ten years later.   Chris, flanked by cousins Adam and Zach, helped me build these backdoor steps in August 1991.  Having lived in California since 1988, the long-distance hassles of trying to manage this property became too much. We finally came to the conclusion that it was best to sell the house and buy into the California real estate market.

Zach and Adam lived in Urbana, Illinois, but were in Austin for a summer visit.  To reward them for their hard work on the steps, I took them to breakfast at Jims on Highway 71 in Oak Hill.   Mmmmm.

Above:  Adam, Chris, and Zach, who finally graduated from "Transformers" to real tools!

Below: The news steps, and lovely live oak trees, in 1991.

TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter 6:  "The Quarrymen"