Back in 2016, I wrote a book called A Site for Sore Eyes in the immediate aftermath of the Didcot A Power Station collapse. I gave the profits of that book to three of the four bereaved families impacted by that tragedy (the fourth family politely declined). I sold more books overseas than I sold here including many to people that were barely able to read English. They didn’t buy the book to read it. They bought it as a demonstration of unity.
When I was threatened in my own home over something I had written, I received dozens of phone calls, emails and text messages. The majority of those came from outside of the UK.
I can find myself at a conference or exhibition in Italy, Germany, Spain or Sweden. Even though I don’t speak the local language, I get by because – like my hosts – I speak the universal language of demolition and construction.
There is a reason for all these things. Construction – and, by association – demolition – is a global brotherhood (sorry ladies. I didn’t name it). Within that brotherhood, we all speak the same language, regardless of where we come from. And there is an unwritten understanding that if you attack one man or one woman in this industry, you attack us all.
Which goes some way to explaining why what is happening in the US right now cuts so deep and feels so personal, even though it is happening thousands of miles away.
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