I married into the construction business in 1972, on my 20th birthday. It was a medium size company that did residential and small commercial heavy equipment work and concrete flatwork. I started working in the office as secretary/bookkeeper in 1975. I loved the atmosphere. I grew up on a farm so I longed to be outside in the mix of it all. Old world Italian father in law was not having it,, a woman belonged in the office or at home...period! I would find excuses to go to the jobsites. No cell phones back then,, I could usually think up some type of emergency that needed his immediate attention. Or, I would just take coffee and sandwiches to the crew on days I knew they would get no breaks. As my father in law got older, and softer, I got more and more involved in the concrete work. Once he retired, I took over running the company. His son, my husband, never learned a thing about business. I started out doing the bidding, scheduling, ordered materials and supervising the crews. After a while I thought I should know how to perform the actual work I was asking the men to do. Figured if I knew how it felt I would know how hard to push. I shoveled gravel into wheel barrows prepping basements for pours, I graded the gravel with rakes and come alongs. I learned how to set the grade for slabs. I was the best on the rake behind the straight edge guy, I could pull the concrete off his feet and the straight edge so that he could fly over the concrete and have a garage or basement floor ready to darby in no time. Then I learned to hard trowel a floor. Really no different than scrubbing the kitchen floor. I was good at it too. I could make a floor shine, no chatter marks and in just 2 times on the floor. I put up with ready mix dispatchers sending short loads and hot loads and wet loads. I put up with the snot nosed 20 something residential superintendants who's only actual construction experience was toting buckets of mortar for a block layer the summer between their sophmore and Jr year of college from which they graduated with a BA in something real pertanent like basket weaving. I had to watch the bills for back charges and chase the builders for my money. I beat the summers and the winters. I still have my full set of Carharts and yellow concrete boots with the little gray concrete specks still stuck to them. Those 6 years were the best and worst of times in my life and next to my children,, my proudest accomplishment.