The Third Shift: A Night At The Evanston Township High School Steam Plant

By Chase DiFeliciantonio (Mid-term project for Spring 2014)

While most folks are sleeping, Matt Schuetzner works. Schuetzner, 25, is a journeyman building engineer from Chicago, IL, who spends most of his mornings from 12 a.m. to eight a.m. watching over the gargantuan, rumbling machinery that heats the adjacent Evanston Township High School. Much of Schuetzner’s job is equal parts boredom and danger and he spends much of his time just waiting for something to go wrong with one of the snaking tubes and knobs that run into and away from the massive boilers. Capable of producing 50,000 pounds of steam per hour, the boilers are the heart of the facility and it is Schuetzner’s job to keep them all in working order.

This particular Saturday night Schuetzner is working overtime and his shift will end at 12 a.m., much earlier than usual. Schuetzner ambles adroitly about the aging 4-story brick building, adjusting knobs, making notes, and smilingly commenting on what is for him fulfilling work. “Not bad for 25” he says, referencing his age with a shy grin.

Instead of going to college, Schuetzner attempted join the U.S. Army but was rejected because he is asthmatic. After talking to an uncle who is also a building engineer, Schuetzner found that he enjoyed the hands-on nature of the work and apprenticed himself for two years to learn the trade. Now a first level journeyman, Schuetzner finds his work both involving and meaningful, “I like this job, you get to get your hands dirty” said Schuetzner.

Schuetzner spends a typical night ensuring that the complex heating system runs smoothly, checking everything from steam output and pressure gauges to chemical levels and more. But there are myriad complications that can and have arisen during his two-year tenure here.

“One time one of the air compressors shut down” Schuetzner explains, indicating a whirring iron box replete with blinking red lights that supplies and regulates the air supply to the boilers, “the alarm that’s supposed to tell me that went out too and one of the tanks was shooting steam like crazy” he says, indicating a hulking container adjacent to the whirring box, “that could have been real bad” he added.

The roiling hearts of the facility are its four massive boilers. Crimson and blue flames leap flamboyantly inside the boilers as they emit a sustained, low-pitched roar. “You’re not supposed to stare at the flame for too long,” says Schuetzner with a grin as we both peer into the rollicking interior.

The boilers intake a specified mixture of air, water, and gas in order to perpetually stoke the roaring flames inside. The hulking furnaces burn around the clock during the winter months in order to heat the neighboring Evanston Township High School.

“You should be here when they’re on full blast,” says Schuetzner “it can get real loud in here.”

Part of Schuetzner’s work takes place in the underground tunnel that leads to the school. The tunnel is damp and hot, filled with the hiss of steam and the groaning of aging iron. The many pipes and tubes throb with the motion of the superheated steam that runs ceaselessly through them and sharp metal obstacles seem to jut out around every corner. The tunnel narrows as it progresses and the atmospheric slapping of our boots in the myriad puddles make me glad to be with someone who knows more than one way out.

“That’s the escape hatch,” says Schuetzner, indicating a bolted iron hatch that leads to the street level. “You don’t want to have to use that.”

Down here below street level, as the pipes swell and contract, they spout leaks in the form of small geysers of steam that spring from exposed sections of piping. “You don’t want to bare-skin one of those,” warns Schuetzner. The massive connecting sections of the heavy iron pipes must be periodically cut out and replaced with new pieces and the low ceilings, humid air, and exposed sections of scalding iron make the work difficult and dangerous.

The interior of what appears to be the office is not much different from the machine shop. The clutter is just as bad if not worse and the only real difference is the presence of a desktop computer and the enigmatic technical diagrams that plaster the walls. Despite the gritty, industrial feel of the plant, it is a modern facility and Schuetzner’s job requires a certain level of computer competency. “We can pretty much run everything from here” Schuetzner says as he manipulates a digital display of the high school. “Most of the school was built in the 20’s but everything runs through here now.

Schuetzner’s muscular, oil-worn hands seem out of place on the keyboard. Although he is proficient with the computer program, he is more at home poking about the metallic behemoths in the boiler room next door. There is a giddy quality in Schuetzner’s voice as he explains how the steam plant works and he carries a young man’s exuberance for his work. He is glad not to be trapped in what he calls “some cube” in an office somewhere. Although his job may not always be exciting, for Schuetzner it is certainly fulfilling.

Most of Schuetzner’s shifts are quiet affairs. He typically has the place to himself and he seems to enjoy the peaceful solitude of his job. “I get a lot of reading done,” said Schuetzner, “it almost feels like a church in here sometimes” he adds.

Schuetzner stands in the middle of the combination break room/ machine shop amidst the pervasive smells of sanded wood and aging iron. Every crevice in the room is stuffed or stacked with some piece of industrial detritus. Old nuts and bolts sit in cubbyholes adjacent to a wall of tools straight from a backyard tinkerer’s daydream. A persistent humming emanating from the machinery in the next room gives the cluttered space a comfortable feel in spite of its harsh lighting. “This place is a mess,” Schuetzner muses as he scowls at the stacks of junk.

Schuetzner talks about the difficulties he faced during his apprenticeship. He says it was a physically and mentally demanding two years wherein he learned the basics of his trade. “It could get really frustrating some times,” Schuetzner recalled as he stood astride the second floor catwalk, “I put some major dents in my locker some nights.”

While many men his age have recently graduated college and are still contemplating their professional futures, Schuetzner, 25, has already settled into a full-time career and is a member of the Local 399 International Union of Operating Engineers. “I never really liked school,” said Schuetzner who received his Associate Degree in Applied Science before becoming a building engineer. “A lot of people are coming back to the trades, ” Schuetzner said, “it’s good, steady work.”