I wrote a story that will run in the July issue of South Central Construction Magazine about Allan Nelson. He is the project manager for Granite Archer Western, the joint venture partnership tasked with delivering the $266.8- million U.S. Hwy. 90 Bridge over St. Louis Bay in Mississippi. When I first contacted him about the story, he e-mailed me a little note. Basically, the note said that this particular project, although it is important to the people of the Mississippi Gulf Coast and represents a return to some sort of normalcy after Hurricane Katrina changed everything in 2005, is only one of many in his 40-year career in construction. He attached a very impressive resume that includes some very interesting projects, including the largest cofferdam in the City of Detroit. But he ended the note with this: "I am most proud of my family, my wife of 39 years, my three outstanding sons and their families."

Nelson had mentioned previously that his wife, Judy, moved to Mississippi from their home in Kansas City, and has been living with him in a trailer for more than a year. I figured that, in itself, was pretty unique. I hear more about divorces and second and third marriages than spouses who go on the road and follow from project to project. I'm not saying anything new to anyone in construction, but I've always found the transient lifestyle curious. I approached one of my editors several times throughout the years, about writing a story on divorce and construction. It's very much like medicine in that respect. Is the personality attracted to the career? Does the career demand so much that it isn't conducive to family life? Is it a combination of both, or am I making gross generalizations? The editor didn't think it would be good pr, so I never did the story, but I knew right away something was different about the Nelsons.

I drove back to Mississippi one day to have a one-on-one visit that wasn't just about the bridge and asked if I could stop by on my way back to New Orleans and meet his wife. Nelson told me that, before this bridge project, he was working at Granite's main office in California and Judy was going back and forth between there and the house in Kansas City. Having just wrapped up a highway project in Alberta, Canada, Nelson had no idea where he would go next. He arrived in Mississippi February 1, 2006. "I was in a motel four or five months, then a motor home," Nelson says. His wife was with him off and on until she could get things settled with their house. Then she moved down to join him in their trailer in the work camp GAW had established off of Interstate 10. Nelson put the word out that he wanted to rent some place that would be more scenic, and the couple found a slab that used to be someone's home in Long Beach, a block from the beach, parked their motor home and have called that home ever since.

"She's moved with me all over the U.S.," Nelson says. "We have a son who was born in Ohio, one in Georgia and another in Montana."

The couple decided early on in their marriage that it was worth moving the kids from school to school and Judy not working to keep their marriage and family together.

"When we were first married we moved to Arkansas, and Allan drove a trailer with our wedding gifts and furniture from both our moms," Judy says. "Allan said the company would have a shower for us. We had so many gifts that we furnished our house. I just felt like I was a part of this family, and if we needed help, they were there to help us. The construction business is a family."

The couple feels fortunate that they've been able to move together, to stay together, throughout the years. And they share the sense of adventure and accomplishment inspired by construction. "I love construction, and he loves construction," Judy says, smiling matter-of-factly.

She talks about her favorite projects. "Oh, a project I really enjoyed was in Georgia, the powerhouse. Remember that one?" She embarks on a long description of the 500-MW hydroelectric Carters Powerhouse that her husband was project manager on from 1976-1980. "We went down in the turbine pit right next to the shaft," she says, eyes shining with excitement. "They opened it up and let water go through and the shaft starts turning." She gestures while describing how the water dropped from a dam, how it felt and sounded.

"I have been in places you could never imagine being in," Judy says. "One of our first projects in Ohio, a two or three chamber lock, he designed the cofferdam." (I notice the way she says "our" and looks to him to clarify if it was two or three, but goes right on to do what she set out to do, brag about his accomplishments.) She talks about the adventure of going into the tunnels, something she realizes few people have had the opportunity to do, but it's easy to see her excitement is as much a reflection of her admiration of him as intrigue into the particular project.

"He takes me out every Sunday for my tour of the bridge," she says, returning to the current project.

"Every night, she'll ask me what I did today, if I got this or that done," he says.

In a lot of ways, the St. Louis Bay bridge project is like any other, filled with a lot of stress, long hours and pressures of deadlines, Judy says. However, it's also different in many ways. "I was so depressed when I first came down — seeing everything. Everything four blocks from the beach was wiped out," Judy says. Then she perks up telling stories about her neighbors, who lost their home, live in a trailer on their property and are rebuilding. "My neighbors are so inspiring and so much fun." It's easy to see the optimism Nelson's work peers attribute to him is another common bond the couple share.

Over lunch, the Nelsons tell stories of their children and grandchildren. They laugh, recalling a wrestling match won by one of their boys and brag about how they have a fourth grandchild on the way. I remember Nelson told me he used to be a marathon runner, and I ask him about that. He quickly turns the attention back to Judy, saying she is the far superior athlete. "She's a better golfer, and she was state speed skating champion," he says. They hail from Minnesota originally, something even the most obtuse linguist can detect immediately.

On the way back to the office, Nelson tells me that in addition to golf, he enjoys fishing and reading. "I don't have too much time for that now, but all that will change when we get to this milestone," he says, referring to May 16, when GAW is committed to open the bridge to two lanes of traffic. Lucky for him, he doesn't have to wait until then to enjoy his favorite companion and proudest accomplishment. She has been there all along.

May 30, 2007

That is a wonderful story - we need more of the same. Reminds me of a letter I sent to our local newspaper after the construction company I worked for at the time, completed what was probably one of the most complicated buildings ever erected in Canada.( The Company was Eastern Construction Company Limited and the project was Roy Thomson Hall - a beautiful concert hall.)

What I basically said was that " I had always been amazed that at the opening of a structure such as Roy Thomson Hall, much publicity is given to the architects and designers and even to the celebrities who attend the gala opening - but rarely, if ever, is any credit given to the people who probably deserve it most - the contractors."

It's still true today.Keep up the good work.

Bob Herscovitch Toronto, Canada

May 18, 2007

I like your human interest side of Construction. After spending 13 years in heavy construction in the New Orleans area as a safety man, I learned a lot about people and their personalities, as well as something about their families. Your in-depth interview provides detail that is good for the individual who is rarely recognized by the employer to such an extent. There can be some mighty lows for the construction worker, whether a manager or laborer. It would be really a super gift if ENR could foot the bill for the article and picture framed for the individual and his company.

Lewis Raymond
The Gray Insurance Co.