The Men on the Roof
I saw the men on the roof in Lawrence, Kansas, on Saturday. I looked at the weather app on my phone: 92 degrees and no wind speed. The heat was brutal. So was the pitch of the roof.
I’m an old carpenter who has roofed—I don’t know how many roofs when I worked with my Dad as a kid. The men were working on what looked to be a 10-pitch roof.
“Roof pitch (or slope) is the steepness of a roof, usually expressed as a ratio of vertical rise to horizontal run. For example, a 4/12 pitch means the roof rises 4 inches vertically for every 12 inches it extends horizontally.”
Most roofs today (except for the McMansions) are only a 4-pitch, and are easy to work on. 6-pitches are a little harder, but for the most part, it can be done safely. 8-pitches are difficult, and 10-pitches are extremely difficult, and as you can see, working on them is dangerous. If you have never done it, you won’t know how working on these kinds of roofs punishes your whole body, but especially your ankles. If the roof is any steeper, harnesses are needed.
We were helping a family member move from Iowa City to Lawrence, and it turned out that her duplex is getting a new roof.
We parked near the duplex, got out of our vehicles, and the other family members who were helping her walked toward it, while I lagged behind. Two young roofers, maybe in their 20s, walked past me to climb up the ladders. Both nodded at me.
Me: I used to do that, I said, looking at the roof.
First Man, smiling: Come on up and help if you want.
Me: My roofing days are over, I think...
Second man to the first: He’s done his time…
I don’t remember how young I was when I first started working construction for my Dad. He built houses. I was on the jobsite for years, but my first real paycheck was when I was 15. I worked for him many summers and one full winter when I wasn’t in school until I went off for grad school in Seattle in my early 20s.
Just like these men, we worked in the heat and cold. It didn’t matter how hot it was, and if you haven’t worked outside, day in and day out, for weeks, months, years on end, you have no idea how hard it is to do in extreme weather. It beats on you, it wears on you, and yet you continue because it’s a job, and because of the pride you take in your work. I remember telling myself that if I ever had an inside job, where I only had to walk between my car and work, or home, or the store, whatever, I would never complain about the weather. And this is me not complaining about the weather.
Eventually, most people on the laborer side of construction take other jobs, because it isn’t a job for old men. Except sometimes.
An older man went to his truck, and then came back to observe the younger men still working on the roof. I walked up to him and said something like, “you guys are tough. It’s 92 degrees…” He nodded, took the compliment, and smiled. We spoke for a couple of minutes when he said some things that stuck with me, and he agreed to let me record a brief interview.
His name is Luc Vandebuerie.
Below is a recording of our conversation, followed by a lightly edited transcript. As always, please listen to the recording if you can—there is nothing like the human voice.
Me: Okay, so how long have you been doing this?
Luc: About 53 years.
Me: Started when you were 15.
Luc: 15, yep. I’m ‘71 now, yeah.
Me: And you’ve gone through some health challenges.
Luc: Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah. Six heart attacks, colon cancer. But still going at it.
Me: Tell me why.
Luc: I have to; due to my life decisions I made in the past, I’m not able to retire. I have to keep working.
Me: There’s a lot of us like that.
Luc: Yeah.
Me: Yeah.
Luc: Yeah.
Me: And you don’t mind me publishing any of this.
Luc: No, I don’t have any problem with that...
Me: Okay. And so what’s your company? How can people reach you, or do you have enough business?
Luc: Well, we got quite a bit of biz, but we’d always use more, you know. So my company name is DACA Roofing, D A C A Roofing, and we’re based in Baldwin City, Kansas.
Me: And you’re doing this in Lawrence.
Luc: Well, we’re doing- we’re traveling also, if we have to.
Me: Okay. And do you have a phone number you want to share for your business?
Luc: Sure. My cell phone is 404-391-3187.
Me: Well, tell me about these young guys that are working for you. They’re working real hard.
Luc: Oh yeah. These are good... This… got a very, very good crew. They’re all good guys, hard-working, and trustworthy. And that is kind of unusual these days to find.
Me: Yeah, they didn’t slow down. They just kept working…and it’s…
Luc: No, they just keep going.
Me: And it’s 92 degrees.
Luc: Yep.
Me: All right.
Luc: Yeah, working early in the morning if we can and then until it gets really too hot, and then we’ll just call it a day.
Me: Great. Well, thank you for your time.
Luc: Well, thank you. Appreciate it.
p.s. If you follow Iowa politics, you will appreciate the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative podcast Iowa Down Ballot with Dave Price, Kathie Obradovich, and Laura Belin. I listen and learn every week.
p.p.s. I’d love to see you at the Okoboji Writers’ and Songwriters’ Retreat in September. It’s a life-changing event, and there’s still time to register!
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Also put in 53 years in concrete Construction here in Texas. I didn’t start until I was 20 because I helped Granpa farm in Northwest Iowa until mother drug us to Texas when I was 15. Then, I worked Saw Mills and tire bays in Truck Stops until I got into Concrete. The good part was there was a State University in that town, SHSU, that cost $100 per Semester. These crap jobs bought my degree in Chemistry. I didn’t want to work on the Cancer Coast so I stayed in Concrete. Isn’t it funny how running from Cancer has shaped my life. In Iowa it was Radioactive Fallout from Nuclear Testing in the 50’s out West. Now, it’s Nitrates in the Water( What else is washing off of those fields they are not telling us about). At 74, my knees were destroyed and I have vertibre that are knocked out of alignment until I was permanently disabled. For all of the grief dealing with Mother caused me, she left me enough money to pay for utilities, taxes, and Beans off of the interest. She also left my sisters and I the Farm we grew up on in Osceola County. This is my interest in Iowa Politics. Watch out Iowa. You think yall are “Conservative “. I want to return to the Sustainable Farming my Grandparents conducted.
So many of us enjoy a good quality of life on the backs of others. Your story should remind us all of the privileges we have and don’t necessarily deserve.