General Contractors: Building Space to Thrive

It  usually begins without much fanfare. You notice a small puddle of water in front of your dishwasher. Or the living room feels more drafty than it should. Or you open the front door and notice that the house feels feels stuck at 52 degrees -- instead of the comfortable 68 degrees at which you'd set your thermostat.  At first glance, these might seem to be minor inconveniences, remedied by using a towel to mop up that water, or wearing a sweater to keep warm. But, as anyone who has owned a home can tell you, what first appears as a minor inconvenience can quickly become a harbinger of worse problems.

Take that puddle of water in front if the dishwasher. 

In January, I spent the day with my friend Andrew, the owner of Vanstra Contracting, a general contracting business located in my hometown of Salem, Oregon. Our day began in his shop, just as the sun was rising. Andrew, his crew of three, and his dog Lacey, gathered to load up their tools, assign projects, and review the work that needed to be done at each site.  And it turned out that at least a half-day's work would come as the result of a guilty appliance. A dishwasher had leaked in a client's home, and water had become trapped in the sub-floor and spread the length of a the kitchen and dining area. The previous day, Andrew's crew had been called out to investigate that puddle of water, but as they began pulling up the kitchen floor thinking that the leak would be contained to the area immediately in front of that dishwasher. But is it ever that simple? With each pull of the flooring, they discovered that the water had seeped just a little bit further. By the end of that day, the entire floor had been pulled up, fans had been put down, and what was supposed to have been a simple fix had morphed into a much more involved project -- all because some water found its way into space that it didn't belong.

At the risk of oversimplifying their vocation, contractors do the work of creating space that protects us from the elements.  And, at the risk of exaggerating, our lives depend on the work that contractors do to create this space for us. Travel, for a moment, back to the dawn of civilization. The first homes were shelters that were a part of the natural environment -- likely caves that allowed for some protection from the elements or from predators, or perhaps neighboring tribes that may have presented a threat.  These natural -- if crude -- homes were utilitarian, but they performed some of the same functions that we expect from our modern homes -- namely providing a boundary from the the harsh elements of the natural world. 

As time passed, and as civilization changed, housing adapted as well. Shelters were made using the

skins of animals, allowing both a barrier from the elements, but also mobility that allowed tribes of people to move with the food source. As technologies advance with the passing of time, tribes of people were able to settle in a place with increasing permanence.  Refrigeration, and other food preservation methods, for example, allowed people to set roots in a particular place rather than chase a food source across the prairies.  And as tribes of people were able to settle in a given place for longer and longer lengths of time, their housing changed to reflect this. Rather than crafting tents that could be packed down and moved easily, semi-permanent, and then more permanent structures were built. Tents turned into pueblos or cottages, which in turn became bungalows and apartments, and mansions. But whether it was a tipi on the American prairie, or a high-rise European apartment block, or a cottage in the English countryside, the homes that we live in created a space that protects its inhabitants from the elements.

Lest you assume that this view of a general contractor still doesn't give enough credit to those who labor in this work, consider what happens when this work is not done well.  Later in the morning, Andrew was asked to stop by a home where the owner had noticed that some moisture had been seeping in along the topside of a living room window. And, on top of it, the room had been feeling drafty as of late.  This was unusual because that window had just been replaced by another contractor, who had assured the homeowner -- after collecting his sizable fee -- that the new window was sure to be weatherproof.  Yet, there we stood, alongside the guilty window, under a sheet of plastic (put in place to do what the window was failing to do), trying to figure out why the elements were still making their way into the home.  It didn't take long to realize that the original contractor simply had not done the work well.  The window wasn't properly set into the frame, and foam insulation was not properly set in in the gaps between the window, and the frame of the house. Consequently, the rainwater -- which is plentiful in an Oregon January -- was easily permeated the wall between the elements outside, and what is supposed to be a refuge and a shelter in a couple's back living room.

The couple mentioned above is facing a comparatively simple fix. Andrew was asked to put a quote together for them that will state that the original contractor had inadequately completed the first job. This might give them leverage to try to force the original contractor to pay, but the likelihood of that (even if they chose to involve the courts) is slim to none. So, they'll be left with little choice but to hire a new contractor to do the work properly, at a cost of seven to ten thousand dollars. In the meantime, they'll be dealing with the inconvenience of cold and wind in their home, along with the hassle of having their home disrupted while the window is installed correctly. That's no small thing -- a few weeks of inconvenience and disruption, thousands of dollars of financial loss, and a sense that they have been victimized by an unscrupulous contractor.  The truth is, when something in our homes breaks down, most of us realize our vulnerability. While the average homeowner may have some skills -- enough to unclog a shower drain, or repair a dented wall -- most of us don't have the know-how to set a window properly in place, insulate the wall, weatherproof the exterior, and then put up new siding on the wall. So, we trust the experts to do the work -- and that's just the point: we trust them. We pay a sizable sum of money, and we depend on them to do the work well -- and when it isn't done well, we are at their mercy.  So, contractors have sometimes earned a bad reputation -- they promise to complete repair work, take our money, and never show up. Andrew's work ethic showed why he excels in what he does.  My sense is that he receives his work as a stewardship of that trust.  Contracting isn't just about performing repairing a window, replacing a floor, or framing an addition to a home. It is serving a person by doing the work well, and proving himself worthy of the trust that they put in him. 

The results of poor contracting work can get worse. As I write this, rescue workers are working desperately to find any remaining survivors buried in the rubble in the wake of the worst earthquake in Turkey's modern history.  Some 35,000 people have already been counted dead, and that number will almost certainly rise. The immediate housing crisis is obvious -- tens of thousands of people no longer have that protection from the elements, and in the cold and wintry region, lives may well be lost for a lack of shelter.  Survivors are packing into tents (which are in alarmingly short supply) or train cars while a more suitable solution can be found.  But there is another story that highlights the importance of contractors.  As Turkey's population grew rapidly, and as demand for housing increased, buildings were rapidly constructed, and while the country's building codes required structures to withstand earthquakes, these codes were rarely enforced.  In fact, reports are beginning to emerge that the government permitted contractors to pay comparatively small fines rather than build their buildings to code.  This allowed the government to quickly provide a massive amount of housing that appeared safe and stable -- and it was, at least until February 6th. Whether they are victims or co-conspirators, the inadequate work of contractors and builders has contributed to a humanitarian crisis, and a massive loss of life.

While the basic function of housing is to provide a safe space from the elements -- the heat, the wind, the rain, the cold, and even the earth itself -- housing plays other functions as well.  In the United States, the Center for Disease Control has published the Healthy Housing Reference Manual -- a 231 page technical manual spelling out zoning requirements, technical specifications for wiring and plumbing, and information down to the most minute detail on things like pollutants, water sources, foundations, and appliance hook-ups. In the introduction to this hefty manual, the authors make a case for the importance of homes: “Without a decent place to live, people cannot be productive members of society, children cannot learn and families cannot thrive.”  Beginning as early as age 2, children need their own space in the home, and the lack of that private space can negatively impact school performance.  Homes offer us space for both privacy and for community.  The space that allows us to work, rest, interact, and spent time in solitude. Our homes are the space where we make love to our spouse, raise our children, celebrate birthdays, create Christmas morning memories, and carve out traditions that we will hand down to our children's children.  They are the place where we run to in tears because our 8th grade boyfriend has just broken our heart, where the walls hear the angry words spoken in the heat of an argument, the living room where we hold the hand of our spouse as they take their final breath. Homes create space for us in which our lives may flourish.

So, yes, contractors create inhabitable space between us, and our environment, but they also help us to create our homes. Bob and Cynthia, a delightful couple who had requested that Andrew stop by and help with a couple of quick projects in their home, purchased their home in the mid-Willamette valley several years ago.  Andrew was hired by the couple, and began work almost immediately, tearing down the kitchen, bathrooms, living rooms, and bedrooms, almost to the studs.  Then the real work began -- mounting kitchen cabinets, installing a new shower, and installing a new door for the master bedroom. And as much as this work enhanced the appearance of the home, the remodel was needed for a different reason.  Nearly 40 years ago, Cynthia was injured in a serious car accident that left her paralyzed, and reliant on a wheelchair for mobility. Many of us will never understand some of the challenges faced by those who get around in a wheelchair.  Doors can be tricky to navigate because they might be just a couple of inches too narrow. Showers are difficult to get in and out of. Kitchen counters are generally just out of reach.  General Contractors to the rescue. Andrew and his crew mounted kitchen cabinets and counters that would be easily in reach for a person in a wheelchair; they installed a no-barrier shower, and they widened doors to the master bedroom to allow for greater mobility. Our homes create space in which our lives may flourish, but sometimes flourishing in our space requires that this space is adapted. General Contractors rearrange, alter, and modify our space so that it fits who we are, allowing all of us to flourish.

Our day ended with a stop at another of Andrew's long-term projects that is underway. The Chabad Center for Jewish life is adjacent to the home of a local Rabbi in south Salem. Several months back, they began an extensive addition to their building, including the installation of a large mikveh -- a large ceremonial bath used for purification rituals. The plans and specifications for this bath have been passed down by Rabbis for thousands of years (even when local building codes contradict the plans, it is the local ordinances that yield to the Rabbinic blueprints and not the other way around). The plans call for a separate entrance into the space where the mikveh is, a reception area, an anteroom for preparing for the purification rites -- one for men, and one for women -- and the mikveh itself, a ten-foot deep pool that is used for the purification ceremonies.  When the building is opened, it will serve as a place where men and women come to observe the rites of purification -- as a part of the conversion ceremonies, as preparation for Shabbat, as a way to mark milestones like birthdays, funerals, graduations, or other major life events. Again, it is the contractors who are building the space that will give meaning to our lives. They are measuring 2x4's, attaching roof trusses, hanging drywall, and installing flooring that will become a space for celebration, for grief, for remembering, and commemorating. 

It just so happened that as I was working on this essay, I had been reading through the Psalms in the Old Testament. Likely because I had been reflecting on this theme of shelter, I began to notice time and again how regularly God reveals himself as a God who provides shelter, and refuge for His people.  Upon some reflection, I'm not quite sure whether it is the care of God that creates a pattern for the work of a General Contractor, or if the work of a contractor points us to the work of God.  Perhaps it goes both ways. Our need for shelter reflects a profound need -- a need for security, safety, stability, a protected place that allows us to flourish. Ultimately, it is God who provides this for us.  When the world proves to be an unpredictable or uncertain place, God is, himself, that place of safety that we need. But if we are wondering about real-world examples of what this might look like, we need look no further than the work of a General Contractor

I owe a debt of gratitude to Andrew, and to the crew at Vanstra Contracting for letting me tag along with them for the day. I was impressed by their work ethic, by their dedication to excellence, and their commitment to serving their clients well.  For Andrew, the work of contracting was not just about building, remodeling, or repairing homes, but about serving people. I thoroughly enjoyed my day spent with him.  And if you ever need a General Contractor...