I'm a very creative person, so it's a little counterintuitive that working in demolition was one of the most fun jobs I ever had, and they didn't even let me use explosives. Sledgehammers, jackhammers, pry bars, picks, and shovels — really hard work, but in another way, satisfying. I'm not qualified to operate any heavy equipment, so my job was to rip out the building's interior, save what could be saved, sort recyclables, and dispose of the junk. I revel in the thought that with the right tools, no one can stop me from getting into anything I'm determined to get into. I also managed to scavenge materials for my own personal use.
Stupid things sometimes make me happy. We were trying to save four foot-by-eight-foot bathroom mirrors on one job. The first one came out beautifully, and we carefully hauled it out to the truck. The next one didn't go so well. I twisted a screw holding one of the bottom clips. There was a pop, and cracks snaked through the glass away from the clip. I grinned; this one wasn't coming down safely. The danger with removing this one carefully is that the razor-sharp pieces might come down around our ears. I backed everyone off about ten paces and launched my sledgehammer at the middle of it. The crash as it disintegrated was worthy of a YouTube short, but that wasn't a thing back then.
The same bathroom had another hazard. There was a little hall running behind a cinder block wall along the back of the building. My supervisor made sure I understood that it was an "enclosed space" and, for safety reasons, I wasn't to go in there. I didn't, but when he came back to check on us an hour or so later, we were carting away what was left of the cinder block wall. With my sledgehammer on my shoulder, I told him, "I unenclosed it." They liked me on that crew.
One of the biggest job sites I worked on was a convent that was being cleared to make way for a grocery store along with some other shops. We had to first gut the building before the high hoes moved in to knock down the main structure. Copper wire was being thrown out the front windows for recycling; drywall and plaster were being chucked out the side for separate disposal, and the rest of the junk went out the back window. From the fourth floor, the bigger chunks made a pretty satisfying crash when they hit the ground. I spotted a really big, heavy electrical panel, and with great effort I slid it over to one of the windows. All I had to do was get the corner up onto the windowsill. I really wanted to throw this one all by myself, but I was gassed. I couldn't quite do it. Finally gave in and got a supervisor to give me a hand. We watched it crash on the bottom. I told him the only way that could have been better is if we were tossing it from twenty stories up.
