Chapter 2 the harvey family

CHAPTER 5 - HARVEY BUILDERS

My father became known all over South Jersey simply as "Pop" Harvey. As his eleven children grew, so did his reputation - whether he liked it or not! Most of the time, Pop was quite proud of his kids and bragged them up at every opportunity. But we were often enough a source of embarrassment and pain.

SIX BOYS

KENTUCKY MISSION TRIP

In 1956, my father decided to take on a special missions project for an old friend who moved to Kentucky with his wife and children. Jerry and Hessie were from South Jersey but they experienced a call of God to serve Him in the mountainous area around Hazard, Kentucky.
They lived in an old shack much like the local people, but my father thought that they deserved something better for their growing family. He found six volunteer workers including myself, loaded a truck and trailer with building supplies and headed for Kentucky.
The Pierce family had adapted quite well to the culture. One of their children was sitting at the table writing and asked his mother, "Moms, how do you spell rat?" Hessie replied, "You should know that! It's spelled R-A-T." The boy then responded, "No, not the mousey kind of rat; you know, like rat now!"
Their shack had a pot belly stove for heat, and when they claimed that water froze within three feet of the stove in winter, it was not difficult to believe. One could see daylight through cracks in the walls and flooring. At first, we were happy to have chosen the summer for our mission project, but after our introduction to those pesky "sweat flies," we began to wonder! In order to escape the sweltering heat and the flies, we decided to work from 5:00 AM until noon, and again from 3:00 PM until dark. When the day was through, Jerry strung bare copper wires around the building site and plugged them into a normal 110-volt electric outlet! He explained that this was the way most hill people protected their property from thieves.
Jerry had already drilled a well, something which few mountaineers could afford. He told us about a government health inspector, who investigated one of the few wells. There was an old tin cup hanging by the well, out of which the whole family drank. The inspector told the owner of the well that this practice was unhealthy. He told him to use "Sanitary Drinking Cups" instead. A couple of years later, the health inspector returned and was chagrined to see the old tin cup still hanging next to the well. "I told you to use sanitary drinking cups!" he scolded. The mountaineer simply leaned back in his rocking chair and drawled, "Well, we tried yer idea for a while, but gave up. Them paper cups don't last a week!"
Hessie taught in several one-room school houses. The roads she traveled with her Jeep were for the most part creek beds. After a good rain there was no school. She never knew how many students she would or should have in her classes. When the census people came around to gather figures, they simply asked in a general store how many people lived in the surrounding hills.

HEY DAD, THAT'S COOL!

In 1955, we were building an addition onto the First Baptist Church in Elmer. Pop asked if he could use my car to drive to the lumber yard. He said that he used to own a '38 Ford and thought it would be fun to drive one again. My car was not a sedate family sedan like the one he had owned, but a fire-engine-red roadster. I had altered so much on the vehicle that there were few similarities to the car he once owned. When he returned an hour later, his face was as red as the paint. He was reluctant to share details of his brief acquaintance with my car, but swore that he would never, ever, drive it again!
I heard the rest of the story from a reliable witness.
It was a lovely October day and the convertible top was down. At the town's main intersection, the car stalled and refused to start. A group of teenage girls on their way home from High School stood on the corner and watched with amusement, as my father attempted to restart the engine. He remembered that those older cars usually had a hand choke and pulled it out, but the "Ahoogah" horn sounded instead. He then accidentally stepped on a button which rang my "Bermuda Carriage Bell". When the engine finally started, he somehow activated the "Wolf Whistle," which operated on vacuum from the intake manifold. The girls were giggling and waving by this time. Pop got nervous and gave the car too much gas. Squealing tires added a lovely soprano to the deep-throated dual exhaust system!

A FAMOUS SLOGAN

Our business slogan was: "A poor job is remembered long after the low price is forgotten." Pop asked me to try my hand at sign painting. I lettered the company motto onto the tailgate of a truck. A reporter covering one of our construction jobs photographed the tailgate for his newspaper. Considering the quality of my lettering job, I have often wondered if readers really understood the intent of that slogan!
I often wrote the following words on the studs, rafters or joists before covering them with paneling, plasterboard or sheathing: "Ralph Harvey worked here before he became famous." Someday, when all of those buildings are torn down, I may become famous for that! It probably won't happen, nor will Verna put my epitaph of choice on my tombstone. I said that she should have the words, "Ralph Harvey was buried here before he became famous." chiseled onto my tombstone.

PREFAB CHURCHES

Pop Harvey began specializing in church construction during the fifties and in the early sixties, he started to design and construct prefab churches. Harvey Builders possibly holds the world's "speed-record" in church construction.
A Baptist Church wanted to build a new sanctuary on the site of the original structure. My father contracted for the job. Preparatory work was done on the heating and plumbing in advance of the actual construction. One Sunday evening, the church bid "farewell" to their old sanctuary. The building was demolished on Monday and it took another day to clear away the rubble. Wednesday was dedicated to getting the foundation ready for the new building. Early Thursday morning, crane operators began setting up the walls. By Thursday evening, the basic structure was completed. Final work on the interior, plumbing, electrical system and heating were completed on Friday, and volunteer workers from the church spent all of Saturday moving furniture and cleaning up. After just one week, the new church was dedicated!

FRANK

I generally got along quite well with the other construction workers. I became especially friendly with a Polish carpenter named Frank. Frank and I were always competing. He was more experienced, but I learned rapidly and was elated if I did something better or faster than Frank. I was never able to match his ability in fine finish work or sharpening planes and saws. We were both adept at inventing excuses for our mistakes.
Once, Frank was trimming out a baptistery window on a church construction project. He accidentally cut a thick mahogany sill a half inch too short. To his chagrin, the Chairman of the church Building Committee was watching when he tried to fit the expensive piece of wood into the baptistery opening. "Aha, you cut it too short!" the Chairman remarked. Frank must have been boiling inside but he didn't let it show. Instead, he gave Mr. Chairman a scornful look and replied, "That shows how much you know about carpentry! Have you not heard that wood expands when it absorbs moisture? If we cut this sill to fit, it would normally expand as soon as it got wet, breaking the plaster out at the corners. We have a special varnish for such jobs. After painting, the sill expands and remains the same size even after the varnish dries." The Chairman listened wide-eyed with amazement. The next day Frank had cut a new sill and it was installed and varnished when the Chairman dropped by for his daily inspection. Frank and I had to choke to keep from laughing when we overheard him explaining to the Pastor about that special varnish!
I learned a lot from Frank about human nature. He was Catholic, but not very religious. Frank knew me both before and after I became a Christian. Our friendship remained the same although Frank became more cautious about what he said in my presence. At quitting time on cold days he would warn me, "Hold your ears, preacher, I'm going to start my car!" When my father complained about the weather, Frank would say, "The good Lord made the weather, complain to him!" Although Frank was honest and hard working, he never showed much interest in what we believed.
While working on one of many church jobs, I began to sympathize with Frank's poor opinion of some Christians. We were to install wood paneling in both the church sanctuary and the Pastor's office. Frank and I had just sorted out the nicest panels for the sanctuary when the Pastor walked in. He too began to sort through the paneling, saying that he wanted the best ones for his study! Later, Frank was nailing the panels on the wall of the study when the Pastor again entered. "Be careful not to make any hammer marks in this room," he admonished; "this is my study!" Frank slammed his hammer into a panel, causing a large indentation. He then turned and asked, "What was that you said, Pastor?" The Pastor's face turned beet red, but he said nothing. He just turned and walked away.
That pastor had a son around five years of age, who was cute but poorly disciplined. The parents spent more time walking their poodle than they did caring for their child. One morning, when we arrived on the job, every single window of the church bus was smashed and police were making an investigation into the case. When the preacher's kid came out of the house, Frank jestingly asked him what happened to the bus windows. The boy grinned and said, "I did it!" Frank replied, "But you can't even reach that high, how could you have broken all those windows?" In reply, the tyke said, "I'll show you!" He went into the garage, brought out one of his Daddy's golf clubs and proceeded to demonstrate how he had broken the windows! My father shared this information with the pastor, whose response was true to character. He said that we should not tell anyone, or the insurance company might refuse to pay damages. The church was able to get the bus painted cheaply, since the body shop didn't need to mask the windows!

PREACHER BILL

Another unforgettable character who worked for us was "Preacher Bill Green". Bill was from Kentucky. Bill founded two or three churches in New Jersey after coming North. Most of the members, like himself, were from the South. Bill never earned enough money preaching to support a family, so he taught school in winter and worked at odd jobs during the summers.
Bill asked Pop Harvey for a job and Pop asked him if he had any experience in construction work. Bill replied that he had worked for a roofing contractor. "How long?" my father asked. Bill hesitated and then replied, "One day." He then told the following story.
Bill said that the first day went fairly normal until quitting time. The boss told Bill to put some tar-paper over a hole in the roof, where workers had torn out a chimney. "Take a piece of chalk and mark the spot, so no one will accidentally fall through the hole!" the boss instructed. Bill obeyed, but then absentmindedly stepped onto the tar-paper himself! The workers heard him scream and then a loud crash, followed by deadly silence. Several workers rushed into the house to find Bill lying on the floor covered with what appeared to be blood. A closer inspection showed that he had landed on shelves and broken several jars of strawberry jam. Fortunately, Bill escaped with a few bruises and cuts. Bill said that he saved his boss the trouble of firing him and quit. Pop decided that such an honest man must be OK, so he hired Bill.
My younger brother David had Bill Green for a teacher. When he heard that Pop had hired his teacher, David told us about an experience from school. Several area schools shared the same music teacher, who spent one day per week in each institution. Miss Bozack (not her real name) had a high-pitched voice, which had a musical tremolo even when she was speaking. One morning Miss B. was scheduled to come and Bill reminded the class of this fact. He announced in a perfect imitation of Miss Borzack's voice, "Good morning my little song birds! Today, we are going to have a delightful time singing and making Music!" The children responded with gales of laughter. Pleased at their response, Bill continued to mimic Miss Borzack's voice as he made more announcements.
Miss Borzack arrived at the scheduled time and the children filed into the auditorium. She proceeded to greet them in her usual manner. Bill's imitation of the music teacher was still fresh in their young minds and the children began to laugh uncontrollably. Whenever she started to say something, the children would start laughing again. She demanded an explanation, but no one volunteered. Incensed with the children's poor behavior, Miss Borzack went to the school Principal to complain. The Principal interrogated several children and soon discovered the source of the problem. Bill had to apologize to both the music teacher and his class. There were probably other consequences, for he taught in another school the following year.
Bill was the kind of person who bungled just about everything he did, yet it was difficult to get angry with him. Often enough, it was not even his fault that things went wrong. I was helping him carry sheet rock once and decided to take a shortcut between studs, which were nailed 16 inches on center. I failed to consider the fact that Bill's middle section was considerably larger than my own. He got wedged in so tightly that I had to help pull him out.
While working on a school in Bridgeton, I had no watch and asked him what time it was. Bill's watch didn't work and the school clocks were out of order because electricians had turned off the electric. Someone suggested calling the operator for a time check. Bill dialed the operator, who asked if he wanted the exact time. He answered, "Of course!" The operator then connected him with the Annapolis Naval Air Station, which gave him the "exact" time to a fraction of a second!
On the same job, Bill was told to instruct the driver of a truck where to dump his load of sand. The driver warned Bill to step aside saying, "The sand is frozen and when it breaks loose, it could bury a man!" Bill disregarded the warning and soon found himself buried up to his chest!
A few days later, Bill was dumping cement out of the mixer when the handle fell off. The mixer tipped the entire load of cement into Bill's overalls. The weight of the cement was too much for his suspender buttons and the cement-filled trousers dropped to the ground, exposing colorful undershorts and lily-white legs!
Pop sent me and Bill to do a small remodeling job on a weekend house located next to a lake. After ripping out a piece of baseboard, we discovered a large colony of red ants. I gave Bill some bug spray and told him to douse the ants before they escaped and built a new home. I went to the truck to get materials. When I returned, Bill had sprayed every ant he could find until the can was empty. He even sprayed some that were crawling on my lunch bag, soaking it thoroughly! At noon, I drove to a nearby store for something else to eat. When I returned, my poisoned lunch was gone. I presumed that Bill had tossed it into the trash until I noticed several dead fish floating in the lake. Bill said that he thought it would be a terrible waste to throw out my lunch!
I once sneaked a live crab into his lunchbox. He reached inside for a sandwich and pulled out his hand with a yell, the crab attached to his finger! On another occasion, Bill bought a quart of chocolate milk to drink with his lunch. After studying the carton for a while, he stood up and started jumping around like he had been bitten by a snake. As quickly as it all began, he sat down and drank his chocolate milk in one long drought. I asked him what all the jumping was about and he replied, "It says right here on the carton to shake well before drinking!"
I will include one more lunchtime story about Bill. I never met Bill's wife but she must have been a good match for him. Bill once complained that his sandwiches were too dry. We asked how they were made and he showed us: no butter, mayonnaise or mustard; just a single piece of bologna between two slices of bread. We suggested that he stop in a grocery store on the way home from work and get his wife a jar of mustard or mayonnaise. Bill followed our advice and asked his wife to put some of the mayonnaise he bought in his sandwiches. The following day, Bill took one bite and made a face. Opening his sandwich, he discovered that his wife had just given him bread with mayonnaise! Bill responded with a sigh and said, "It's a good thing I thanked the Lord for it before I tasted it!"

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