The Wall

Words: Kent Huntley
Photos: Kent Huntley

There is a story around Huntley Brothers that some of our guys simply call “The Wall.”

I’ve told it enough times over the years that when I start telling it to one of our younger guys, I can see a few of the older ones rolling their eyes. They’ve heard it before, probably more times than they care to admit. I’ll also admit that after almost 40 years, the folklore around The Wall may have grown a little.

A few years ago, my daughter-in-law found some old pictures from that day and put them together in a collage for me. So now when the guys give me a hard time about the story, I can tell them I have proof. Well, at least I have proof there was a wall.

The story goes back to November 8, 1986. It was my 17th birthday, and I was competing in the North Carolina Masonry Contractors (NCMCA) masonry contest at the State Fair in Raleigh. We had competed in regional contests to qualify, and there were around 30 contestants from across North Carolina. My mom and dad were there along with some of my brothers and sisters. I was nervous, and winning meant a lot to me.

The contest was two hours long. To have a chance to win, you had to finish the project. But finishing wasn’t enough. The wall also had to be correct. The judges checked things like plumb, level, measurements, and overall workmanship.

I started laying and thought things were going pretty well until I looked at the plans and realized I had made a mistake. The wall had a small return on the end, and I had laid the return in the wrong location.

I remember panicking for a second when I realized what I’d done. But I didn’t have much time to think about it. I immediately started tearing down what was wrong so I could rebuild it in the right place. Looking back, I figure the mistake and rework cost me somewhere between 15 and 20 minutes. In a two-hour contest, that’s a lot of time.

While I was taking it down, two judges were standing probably eight or ten feet away from me. I don’t know who they were, but I clearly remember hearing one of them say to the other, “Well, there goes his chance to win.”

I heard him, and I went back to work.

I started laying brick in the wall as fast as I could. I knew I was behind, but speed alone wasn’t going to win the contest. I still had to finish, and everything I did had to be right. I knew I couldn’t afford another mistake. From that point on, I knew I had to get everything right. The wall still had to be plumb, level, and meet the measurements on the plan.

Somehow, I made up the time I had lost and finished the wall within the two-hour limit. But I still had no idea if I’d done enough to win.

When it was time to announce the results, they started with fifth place. It wasn’t me. Then fourth, third, and second. My name still hadn’t been called. At that point, there was only one place left, but I still wasn’t sure.

Then they announced first place and called my name.

I can still remember the feeling. Shock, relief, and a sense of pride all at the same time. My family and the guys I worked around were ecstatic. And to make the day even more memorable, it all happened on my 17th birthday.

I was the only one in my family to ever win that contest. There is a plaque with my name on it, and when I see it today, it’s hard to believe that day was nearly 40 years ago.

Over the years, I’ve told The Wall story to a lot of our younger guys, especially when they’re practicing for masonry competitions. I’m sure some of them could tell the story themselves by now. And I’ll admit, the story has probably gotten a little better with age, but the important parts are true.

I made a mistake that cost me valuable time. I heard someone say my chance of winning was gone. I tore down what was wrong, rebuilt it, finished the wall, and tried to make everything from that point forward as good as I possibly could.

I’ve often wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t overheard that judge. Maybe I still would have won. Maybe hearing someone count me out gave me a little extra determination that day. Almost 40 years later, I still don’t know.

When I was 17, all I cared about was winning that contest. Looking back now, I’m certainly still proud that I won, but that’s probably not the reason I’ve continued telling the story.

Maybe that’s why I’ve kept telling the story. I made a mistake, got behind, and heard somebody say I wasn’t going to win. At 17 years old, I guess that was enough motivation for me to see if I could prove him wrong.

So yes, the guys around Huntley Brothers will probably have to hear The Wall story a few more times.

At least now I have pictures to prove “The Wall” did exist.

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