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Even the Blaster Truck could not help us. |
Monday afternoon the signal came to the rectory staff from Anthony Dao, our maintenance man extraordinaire: don’t use any water, the main drain to the sewer is clogged. Bad news, but hardly anything to panic about; Dao has fixed that before.
Three hours later, the news got worse. The drain “snake” he owned was too short to clear the clog, and the longer snake he RENTED was similarly ineffective. So, we had to call for help. It was already after hours, so it was going to be A Big Deal.
The plumbers arrived with their professional equipment two minutes earlier than they had advised. I was carefully eating dinner without making a mess or running water. Two hours later, they left, unsuccessful. They promised the next day they would send the heavy equipment.
Midday Tuesday I returned from lunch off the property (no dishes to wash) to find no fewer than four vehicles from the plumbing firm, the largest of which was the truly impressive and enormous Blaster Truck. I was filled with all the comfort that overwhelming technological power provides.
Two hours later, the trucks were gone, save one, whose lonely operator was moving about the lawn with what could be classified an electronic divining rod, seeking the path of the sewer pipe as it leaves the rectory. The Blaster Truck had been useless, as there was no opening in the pipe under the manhole through which it could blast. The feeble beeping of the divining instrument faded when quitting time came about.
The next day, Wednesday, this time early afternoon, an improved set of equipment was again defeated into bleating and beeps, and a promised call from The Manager. As I write, I have just authorized a plan to break into the pipe at the bottom of the manhole and approach the problem from that end. Only once the problem has been identified and located, can it possibly be remedied. It could be a blockage, by material internal (something dropped into the drain) or external (roots), or it could be a break. We wait in suspense.
Mass goes on, but the Holy House of Soubirous has been in a state of suspension. The staff all dutifully stayed home, though there have been a few drop-bys to get something to work on. Dao and I have taken turns waiting for the plumber; he is much more helpful to them once they are here than I am. Meanwhile, the voicemails are piling up, but the regular mail has been thin. If you have had a need or reason to inquire with our talented and helpful staff, please know that they are not avoiding you, or goofing off. Well, if they ARE goofing off, it is only under duress.
The residents face a different problem. Father Novajosky had felicitously scheduled this week to be away with his family; he left Tuesday morning, unbathed but unbowed. Father Santandreu and I have established a “refugee campus” in the home of some gracious parishioners, where we sleep and shower before returning to our daily battles. Fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies are a powerful consolation!
The good news is that, for now, the church and school plumbing is functioning at top form. If you see me scurrying toward the church during the days, I advise you not to try to engage me right then for a chat; better would be to try when you find me sauntering the other direction. Other than that, my fondest hope is to be able to mention to you this weekend how it all resolved, but I think that to be fixed and finished by Friday is an uncharacteristically optimistic scenario for me to predict at this point. So to you, I say what we used to hear from the television periodically when things went fuzzy, or even blank:
We are experiencing momentary technical difficulties; please bear with us.
Monsignor Smith
