Lafourche partners with ASPCA for disaster response
September 23, 2015Week 3 Players of the Week
September 23, 2015
It is a sad thing when any house burns, but when a house of God burns it is a particular loss, because it affects so many people at once. Rich or poor, big or small as a congregation may be, a church fire has the power to burn hope and dreams like no other conflagration.
Thus it a broad blessing when hearts, minds and hands come together in the wake of such tragedy, looking the badness straight in the eye and affirming that dream-burning will not be allowed, that out of the ashes shall arise something new.
And so it has been with St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, which has in one incarnation or another served people in Houma since 1855, in good times and bad.
A rectory fire and subsequent condemnation of the sanctuary building resulted in the need for new church buildings, which arose between 1890 and 1892, and the resulting steeple-topped structure became a landmark in downtown Houma.
Just a few weeks before Thanksgiving in 2010, fire struck again, destroying the church and its school. The people wasted no time marshaling dollars and workers and vowing St. Matt’s would live anew, and the resurrection has been ongoing.
Many hands have worked the wood and the sheetrock, muscles straining while engaged in the heavy lifting. The tongues that match the hands in many cases speak English and in many cases do not, but that is the way of labor in construction these days.
Among those hands are the ones that belong to Lloyd Olsen, who for decades has made a living out of floors. Floors for houses, floors for businesses, floors for churches, even, are his life’s work.
It was Lloyd’s hands, guiding the powerful workings of a big old sanding machine nicknamed Bertha, that helped restore the old long-leaf pine floors of the old St. Matt’s, around 14 years ago.
The goal then was to restore those floors, preserving them so that the best of their 19th century craftsmanship could be more visible to everyone, and all agreed at the time that Lloyd and his helper, whose name was Julio, did an amazing job.
Julio is said to be publicity-shy, which is why his last name does not appear here.
When fire ravaged the church it was Lloyd again, with Julio and another worker, who were called upon to make the newly installed floors of the now-rebuilt St. Matthew’s be all they could be.
Bertha was long ago retired but Lloyd has some new machines and everyone got to work just a few weeks ago.
This time Caribbean pine was used, 4,000 square feet worth, and so much thought went into the laying of this floor by the contractors that a special sub-floor was built, which gives the new floors the feel of the old ones underfoot, giving and creaking just so.
“We used a 12-inch sander called a Lagler, it’s from Germany,” Lloyd said. “The other machine is a Trio, it is like a very large sander with a vacuum cleaner built on top of it. We make it smooth as a piece of furniture before we put the finish on it.”
The machine has a shifter on it that responds to a feather-touch, Lloyd explained. The key to doing the job right is to exert enough force to pull the 200-pound machinery without doing anything that will mar the wood. The machinery, Lloyd said, responded perfectly to his touch.
“To make your end result come out right it is the speed that you pull it, and that you stay straight,” Lloyd said. “They wanted the best and I didn’t cut any corners.”
The finish was oil based, Lloyd said, because even though water-based finishes are common these days, they just don’t leave the same look.
“If I look at a floor I can tell you if it was oil or water based,” he said.
When Lloyd worked on the old floors he knew that they had borne the weight of godparents with babies to be baptized in the arms, the coffins of the dead who were funeralized for a century, and the footfalls of the faithful as they walked in for services week after week.
These new floors don’t have a history just yet. But Lloyd knows they will. And being permitted to be a part of that is, for him, a privilege.
“I just wanted to say thank you to the people of St. Matthew’s for allowing me,” said Lloyd, after patiently explaining his process.
Then it was on to another job, because even at the age of 70 Lloyd has no intention of slowing down.
New floors at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church reflect light from new stained glass windows. The church was destroyed in a fire but nonstop dedication from the congregation and the community at large have aided in the rebuild.
