I’ll set the scene. It’s around 7:30 pm, David and I are in a rush to relocate about 20 pieces of Sheetrock before it gets dark so that the Sheetrock people will be able to do their work. Sheetrock was delivered and put on the wrong wall. No big deal right? We’ll just move it. Kids are in the house waiting for bedtime and my mom is holding the fort down while we are hurriedly doing the task at hand.
Sheetrock is heavy, really heavy, at least this Sheetrock was. We finally worked out a system where we slid the Sheetrock as far as we could and then picked it up for the last two feet. Oh, and we moved it one sheet at a time, because I couldn’t do any more than that. We had a rhythm and we were doing okay, we were tired but okay.
I’m still not sure what happened next. Possibly we got rushed and careless or maybe the sheets just shifted but one thing is for sure, it was not good. Within seconds our remaining sheets of Sheetrock started to fall on us. My side had fallen and wedged itself on the newly placed Sheetrock damaging a few pieces but at least acting as a help for me to hold my end up. David on the other hand was holding the full weight of his side with his lower body desperately trying to keep it up. We stood there for a few minutes. I’ve watched MacGyver before, I looked around for something to help hold the weight. There was nothing. We tried and failed a few times at pushing it back up, it had fallen too far down. The estimated weight of what we where holding was 600 pounds.
Running out of ideas quickly, David told me he was done and was going to have to drop it. This would mean that all the Sheetrock would fall, catch the side of the other stack of Sheetrock, break in half on the way down, and probably injure him in the process. Pure desperation sent we running into the house calling for mom as our last hope. Even now I don’t see how David managed to keep it up while I was gone. Using the last of our energy we pushed once more with her help and finally got the Sheetrock back up against the wall.
In the end David escaped with only a sore ankle and the rest of us with sore backs. Thank God! Good news is we worked really well together, we stayed calm and collected through the avalanche of heavy white boards. And my mom will forever be known as “the ringer”. 🙂
Now totally off topic, here’s a picture of my niece that I just love.