A few days ago I was working on a project for my wife. We were building a booth for my wife's final final presentation at her school. The show is in a museum where they set up curtains and give each student a 6ft by 6ft space to build an exhibit. She designed a 3 sided wall structure to hang her work to simulate a gallery.
If you know me you know I'm not much of a builder. I'm a champ at putting pre-assembled furniture together. If it came from Ikea or Kmart and it has detailed instructions and comes with all the hardware, I can put it together really nicely. When it comes to building something from scratch, I'm no good. I didn't get the carpentry gene in my family. My father and 2 of my brothers are master carpenters. I on the other hand have two left hands when it comes to home improvement.
Back in 1998 I took a job at the company my brother Adolfo worked for. I was on summer break, so I had time on my hands. I figured I could make a couple of bucks helping out. I would help move materials, clean up, and "hold" stuff. For instance if my brother had to nail something down, he would tell me to hold it in place. If he was measuring something long I would hold the end of the tape measure.
The first week I was there I helped out where I could. We were working at a gym on U street in D.C. called Results. The main part of the gym was built and in operation. We were remodeling a space behind the gym that used to be a loading dock. They were turning it into a locker area. The side of the building next to the alley had a huge garage door. When I say huge I mean the side of this building was about 40 feet tall. The door was about 30 feet tall and 30 feet wide. We were supposed to take the old door down and build a wall. On the inside, it still had an old motor hanging from the ceiling to lift and lower the door. The motor was attached to the ceiling with a steel bracket. My brother and his co-worker Eddie were up on a scaffold. This thing was like 25 feet off the ground. They where supposed to cut the old motor down. They managed to cut one side of the bracket. It was still attached to the wall. I see them close to getting it loose, so I climb the scaffold. We were up near the ceiling so I crouched down. My brother and Eddie are rocking the motor to get it loose. I'm watching them carefully. This thing looks heavy, so I planned to help carry it once in came off the wall. The moment comes when I see come down. I quickly stand up, ramming my head in the jagged bracket still sticking out from the ceiling. The moment I feel impact, I crouch back down, and blood starts trickling down my face. My brother freaks out. He and Eddie guide me down the scaffolding and he rushes me to Howard University Hospital. The top of my head was still gushing when I got there. It was the middle of the day on a Friday. It felt like I had to wait for hours. They finally call me. By then I was calm, and had stopped bleeding. They cleaned it and shoot me with lidocaine. That injection was right in the top my head (in the cut) and it hurt like a mother. Once the anesthesia took action I was good. The lady asked me when was the last time I had tetanus shot. I had no idea, so she gave me one anyway. She stitched me up and I was on my way.
The following Monday I went back to work. This time they sent us to McLean Virginia. They were building a house on the back corner of the grounds of a mansion. This house was for the grounds keeper. It was the size of a single family home. The first day I was there they had me shoveling sand into a dumpster that stood 10 feet tall. I was exhausted especially because it was like 90 degrees outside. This house was literally being built from the ground up. When I started working there, the inside was framed and siding was installed. The house didn't even have permanent stairs. Outside there was cinderblock retaining wall with a 3 foot ditch for rebar surrounding the house.
A week after I busted my head I was at work again. My brother, I and a electrician were the only ones at the house. The boss, Mike, had gone to buy materials. I really had nothing to do. I was waiting for him to return so I could unload the truck. My brother was working on the roof. I went up to the second floor, then climbed out of a window to join my brother on the roof. He was nailing a cap over chimney. While we were up there my brother noticed Mikes van coming up the drive. He urges me to climb down and go help Mike unload the truck. I had to walk down the roof and make a right to enter the window I climbed out of. I start to slowly walk down. Since I am scared of heights I got nervous. In the moment I decided to sit, I guess so I could decide how to get down. Sitting down was the biggest mistake of my life. I began to slide down. It was so fast, but almost seemed like slow motion. I remember seeing mike walking towards the house with bags in his hand. It felt like I was floating, almost enjoyed it. Until I smacked into the cinderblock wall. My right knee hit first, then my chest slammed on the top of the wall. I ended up in the ditch. standing up. I don't think I passed out. At first I didn't feel pain, but my lungs compressed from the impact. The first thing I felt was lack of breath. It felt like I was drowning standing in a dirt hole. Even thought not being able to breat sucked, that is the moment I realized I was still alive. Before I knew it my brother, Mike and the electrician were at the edge of the ditch. My brother and the electrician grabed my armpits to lift me out, that's when I feel a terrible pain in my right knee. I look down (I was wearing shorts) and notice all this dark blood running down my shin and soaking my socks red. Before I knew it, the paramedics had arrived. They also attempted to pull me out. I was to low and too heavy. They put a 3 step latter in the hole and held my arms as I walked up very slowly. They throw me in the ambulance. I was so mad when they cut my shorts off of me, I loved those shorts.
They rushed me to Inova Fairfax. By the time I got there, my parents were there. They had me waiting in pain for a while. Finally the doctor came. They first thing he asks me is, "When is the last time you had a tetanus shot?" I laugh and tell him, "A week ago" He diced to inject morphine into my I.V. The shit felt like liquid heat was rushing from the base of my skull toward my forehead. When the drugs numbed me, the doctor went in. I had torn the skin under my knee cap from the left side to the right side. He had the one nurse grab the top flap and another the bottom flap. They stretched it open, while he looked in there with a flashlight. I felt nothing. He said that nothing was broken down there. He also told me that I was gonna go into surgery. They were going to clean it out, because I had dirt in there, and then stitch it up. After that was done I went home. A few days later I was given a cup with my jewelry. It had my earrings and my chain. I was puzzled because the pendant on my chain was missing. At first I though someone stole it. I was partial to that chain, because I stole it from my brother, and because it was a gold map outline of the map of Nicaragua. My brother told me later that when my chest hit the wall, the pendant shattered. Other then the knee all I suffered was a cracked rib. A few years later I ran into Mike at the Home Depot. When he saw me, he exclaims, "Oh My God!!" He told me I scared the hell out of if. When he was walking toward the house, all he remembers is seeing me flying towards him.
Needless to say after that I decided to quit working with my brother, and construction all together. Not all my stories of home improvement gone wrong don't conclude with me in the hospital. My mom used to work for a lady that had this nice house near Tenley Town Station. The lady had hired my brother, father, and Eddie (from the first story) to renovate her house. She was on vacation, so one Saturday we all went over there to finish the job. One of the jobs that my father had, was to strip the layers of paint off of the mantle for a natural wood look over the fire place. I was in charge of that. I poured stripper on it and gently worked the paint off with a scraper. It took me all morning. I had gotten all the old paint off. I had to do the detail work in the moulding. After that I was told to pour a little paint thinner over the exposed wood and scrub it with a piece of steal wool to rid it of any residue. Located on the top of the mantle was an electrical outlet. I had already removed the face plate and left the screws in. I was rubbing the top of the mantle in circular strokes. Like before, the moment was quick but seemed to go in slow motion. As I ran the steal wool in a circular motion, I struck the screw in the outlet. It created a spark, and the mantle went up in flames. Others were in the room, but everyone was focused on their individual tasks. I yell out FIRE!!. Eddie comes running in with a pan for joint compound full of water. He splashes it on the fire and puts it out. I don't think the lady ever found out that I came this close to burning her house down. Afterwards there was only a bit of soot on the wall and ceiling above the mantle. The wood looked great, I think the fire helped remove any residue. I took the term "fireplace" to the next level that day. I know that I almost gave my brother and Eddie another heart attack.
Since then my duties were greatly reduced. I was in charge of trash, taping base boards, and getting lunch.
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