Picture this: a 19-year-old me, donning a hard hat and steel-toed boots, standing at the threshold of my family's construction business Barriere Construction in the heart of New Orleans, Louisiana. My father, the company's CEO, had always envisioned me as a civil engineer, but as a history major in a liberal arts college, I was plagued by self-doubt, fearing I lacked the technical acumen to navigate the world of construction.
My Dad shared a nugget of wisdom that, at the time, felt like a head-scratcher. He told me, "Tristan, the knowledge you need isn't in textbooks or spreadsheets, but out there in the field working with the crews." Skepticism gripped me, but little did I know that that fateful summer would become a deeply profound learning experience.
Hard work was instilled in me from a young age. Despite attending private schools and securing a spot in a reputable college, I dreaded being pegged as the privileged boss's kid. My first days on the job were daunting. I joined a paving crew that eyed me like a hawk, keen on assessing me. Initially, my task was merely to observe, to shadow the dump man, while the rest of the crew toiled away. It was frustrating. I wanted to prove myself.
Eventually, I graduated from being a spectator to directing trucks under the unforgiving 90+ degree sun. After a week or so, I found myself holding a shovel, then a lute, and slowly but surely, the crew embraced me as one of their own.
The work was punishing - relentless travel and 4:30 AM wake-up calls that clashed with my college sleep patterns.
Yet, I persevered, proudly arriving early to the site, pouring in ten to twelve hours of honest sweat, and repeating the cycle week after week.
The satisfaction of gazing upon a freshly-paved road, knowing I played a modest role in its creation, left a mark on me. It was as Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in Self-Reliance: "There is a time in every man's education when he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that... no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till."
My time in the field taught me lessons no classroom could:
The work ethic I developed that summer has stayed with me through every venture since. There's something about physical labor that builds character in ways desk work simply can't match.
But the true essence of that summer lay in its people. I was fortunate to spend time with Jimmy Fulton, who'd risen from the New Orleans projects to become a paving superintendent. Jimmy's tireless pursuit of excellence and the respect he garnered from the crew was awe-inspiring.
"To lead, you must be everything to your people - coach, boss, friend, father, brother, mentor, and even psychiatrist." - Jimmy Fulton
One day, as he chauffeured me to my flagging station, he imparted that gem of wisdom. I learned more from Jimmy in that summer in a few days than I ever could from some professor in a classroom.
I also observed visiting project managers and field engineers. The ordinary ones breezed through, barely acknowledging the crew, while the exceptional ones parked their vehicles, conversed with every team member, and displayed a genuine interest in us. They saw us not as mere cogs in the wheel but as individuals with stories.
As the summer drew to a close, I felt transformed. I'd made my fair share of blunders, from accidentally wrecking freshly-paved asphalt with a bobcat to navigating to the wrong job site. However, my consistent dedication and assimilation into the crew filled me with pride.
That summer wrapped up on River Road in Jefferson Parish. Roni, a roller operator and quiet leader of the crew, beckoned me over from his CAT roller. Leaning out, he said, "I want to let you know on behalf of the whole crew that we appreciate you coming out here and working your tail off with us. It means a lot to us that you're here." Gratitude washed over me like a warm wave, a feeling I carry with me nearly two decades later.

My crew!
Little did I know, that day would mark the beginning of incredible journeys for many of us. The tack truck driver would become a paving foreman, the screed men would rise to superintendent positions, and the field engineer would become a division manager. Roni is still an artisan on his roller. Years later, I would work closely with these individuals when I rejoined the company.
I learned that it was the people who fueled my passion for construction. I discovered the artistry in civil construction, the value of respect, and the enduring truth that it must be earned, not given. The privilege of getting to know the folks and seeing firsthand how hard they worked to provide for their loved ones was a blessing.
Through challenging days and the chaos of working amidst traffic, I learned a vital lesson: the heart of construction lies in its people. My father's wisdom had been spot on - this was the education I'd needed all along. I am eternally grateful for the relationships forged and the profound lessons learned that summer.
I'm a road guy at heart. That experience shaped me in ways I'm still discovering. The smell of fresh asphalt still stops me in my tracks. The sight of a paving crew working in rhythm still fills me with admiration.
So, I ask you this:
When was the last time you connected with a crew?
Remember, they won't know how much you know until they know how much you care. In the world of construction, it's the people who truly drive the work!
If you know someone who's considering this industry, or if you have a loved one who wants to grow in construction, give them the gift of field work. Lots of it. No estimating class, project management course, or executive seminar will teach them what they'll learn alongside a crew. It's where the real education happens. Outside the building.
Thank you for reading this week!
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-Tristan
P.S. What partially inspired this newsletter was watching a speech by Joey Anderson. If you grew up around road construction in the southeast like me, you know Anderson Columbia is an absolute powerhouse of a contractor and materials producer spanning from Florida to Texas.
I had the privilege of meeting Mr. Anderson last year. He is a complete legend and one of a kind. If you want to see what humility, relentless drive, and a commitment to improvement looks like, take a peek. His dedication to the craft of road building and the people who make it happen reminds me why this is such an amazing industry in the first place.
https://youtu.be/fLbRnCgrTtg