CHAPTER 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oct. 1980 – Installing rudimentary utilities and beginning to shape the foundation

Before I could do much more, I needed to get water up to the house area. That meant digging an 80-foot trench, which took me six days, working a few hours each day after I got off work at Travis High School. There is a thing called digging, and another thing called "chopping through rocks."  This was the latter.

After paying Travis County "Water District 18" a small fee to install a meter at the street, I enlisted the help of my Dad to run a 3/4" copper tubing supply line through the trench, up the hill to the foundation area of the house.

Sweat expertise: Dominic joins sections of copper tubing, a process known as "sweating" that involves using solder and a blowtorch.  He had retired in 1979 after 20 years with the Federal Aviation Administration (preceded by 20 years in the Air Force). In retirement, he had considered building a new house near Barton Creek, but then changed his mind. He was always happy to come out and give me help and advice, and I think working on this project satisfied in him a same need that it satisfied in me.

In the early 2000s: A few years before he died in 2004, my Dad had been fretting that his current house in Cibolo, Texas, had a cheap PVC water supply line from the street. I think he had discovered that fact in the process of investigating a leak. During an Easter visit from California, I offered to dig up the pipe and replace it with copper. My Mom thought we were absolutely crazy to dig up the front yard, but Daddy was quite pleased with the new copper – I think it was the Italian influence. At any rate, it was a very small gesture on my part to help pay him back for some of the help he gave me in the 1980s on my house project.



While working on the water line, we turned over a rock and encountered this 3" tarantula. Texas tarantula's are the warm, fuzzy, lovable ones – not the deadly kind you find in Mexico.  At least that's what I was always told.






The critter next to Dominic's shoe.

The minute we got the copper supply line connected, we began to use the water. Above and below:  My mom Lee fills the trench with water to help settle the dirt as I shovel it back in. I'm not sure what the half-life of a Doritos bag is, but the one we threw in there probably is still there.





Above:  A view of the street-side water meter (foreground) that we tapped for the future-home's water supply. Below: The other end of the pipe, up in the slab area.  We attached a faucet and a hose, and immediately began enjoying the luxury of running water.

 

BELOW, Utilities, Part 2: Before I could get Austin Power & Light (now "Austin Energy") to connect electrical power to the lot, I had to have something to connect it to. I leafed through the Greensheet advertiser and found a used electric-meter loop rig for $40 (below). The city required that I purchase a GFCI outlet/breaker, which cost upwards of $40 back in those days. (Now, they are less than $10.)  But most things are more expensive today. For example, my 1980 building permit from Travis County cost $5, whereas my 2011 permits for my Tea Room addition in Lake Forest, CA, cost almost $800.  Once I had juice, some serious construction could begin.

Below: A sunset view through our oak trees.




By October 1980, it was time to focus on the structural design of the slab, which would require concrete beams under the home's load-bearing walls. This was particularly important because of all the unsettled fill dirt. I consulted with several friends and family members, most importantly my engineer brother-in-law Jimmy, who gave me invaluable suggestions through the course of this project.

The first step was to build 4 concrete piers that would rest on the undisturbed limestone beneath the fill dirt. Again, I hired my local excavator, Bert Teague, this time paying him $137.50 to dig four large holes with his backhoe, plus do some other shaping of the dirt mound and driveway.

In the process, Mr. Teague accidentally snagged some of my freshly buried drain pipes (below).





With the new power-pole (background), I could run a cement mixer to build the concrete piers. I ordered a load of rebar and steel mesh, and began assembling a pile of lumber – much of it used. One day I  borrowed my Uncle Oz's pickup and purchased a load of scrap shiplap board, complete with rusty nails, from the demolotion site of the old Perry Rose Firestone building in downtown Austin.  These would be used in building forms.

Below: A sequence of photos showing construction of the interior piers. Most of this work was done over the Thanksgiving 1980 holiday period.

The upper parts of the piers are formed using cardboard "Sonotubes," suspended using support lumber. They essentially are hanging – so that the concrete can flow through the tubes down into a square, reinforced footing.



Top of a concrete-filled Sonotube. The ceremonial concrete-mixing was conducted by my Dad, my youngest brother, Paul, and myself.



Cut-away view of foundation pier.

A few days after the concrete began to cure, my Dad tested the strength by smashing Pabst Blue Ribbon beer bottles against the footings.

A perfectly formed pier!



The top of a pier, now surrounded by fill dirt. The concrete cross-beams, which will be poured as an integral part of the slab, will be partially supported by these piers.


SNEAK PREVIEW: Below, in the mid-summer of 1981, Billy Yemma nailing plywood sheathing onto the steep, 16/12 pitch roof.

TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 3:  Christmas season 1980, final push to prepare the foundation forms.