As promised, I am going to give a fair amount of detail on my endeavor to rid my basement of what I will refer to as dank. Yes, "dank" is an adjective: ...the monster crept out the dank depths of dark cave... I, however, can't currently come up with a better brief term for my basement that lets the reader know exactly what I am talking about. Like the word roadkill, there is no mistaking intent here. If somebody can share with me a better term, I would be happy to adopt it as my own.
I have both read and been told by countless local contractors that foundations in these old houses are a real challenge with which to work. The walls are prone to cracking from settling, this caused largely by the fact that homebuilders in the 1920s did not place footings beneath foundation walls. Their efforts were basically to dig a ditch, put up forms that are hopefully six inches apart, and dump in the concrete. The best explanation I have been given for this is that, besides there being no building code by which to go, digging labor was done by hand and horses had to haul the dirt. Putting in footings would have required substantially more digging, more horses, more hay... It is clear that building engineers understood the benefits of footings. You need not venture any further than the block of concrete smack dab in the middle of my beloved basement that holds up the chimney stack. This block has a much larger footprint than the tower of bricks it supports, and was clearly designed such that the masonry column above it would never shift an inch. What baffles me more than the complete lack of foundation footings is the absence of any rebar in the foundation. Even without footings, a little bit of rebar could slow or stop the walls from cracking and settling. Was rebar a comparatively expensive item back then?
The first task I undertook was what will certainly be the simplest task in the entire basement project: demolition of the acoustic tile ceiling. The dank crept in on me as I carefully pried from the furring strips nailed to the floor joists. To describe my evening underground as a dusty affair understates the experience. Being as careful as possible to remove each 18" tile intact, I had to fidget with pry bars and nail pullers. And the dank enveloped me. But, three hours later, all debris was bagged and stacked neatly. All furring lumber now sits in the driveway. Each rainfall releases a new dose of dank into the neighborhood air. Anybody that has walked past a home construction dumpster in these parts knows the scent of dank. So...is it okay to just leave the nails in this wood? I am guessing that it gets pulverized into little pieces somewhere. Does the pulverizer care if there are nails? My best estimate suggests it would take another three hours to rid the pile of dank of its nails. For now, I have directed my children to stay clear of this hazard, having offered graphic descriptions of tetanus shots awaiting those that venture too close.
The best news to date is that the removal of both the acoustic tile and the oversize furring strips has easily gained me an inch of head height, even after new drywall goes up in the future. This seemingly small gain means the world when head height is exactly at the code minimum 7' clearance. I am not going to go hang suspended lighting in celebration, but am excited nonetheless.
The adventure continues later...
