George Constantine
By Wendy Slaten
Guest Writer
From 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 24 at Keep Me Posted, there will be a Life Celebration for the family and friends of George Constantine. Come join with grateful hearts, along with stories and memories.
Born in 1936 in Pennsylvania, George could be described as a life force of mischievous grace and abundant creativity; the embodiment of generosity, positive attitude, joyful humor, vibrant creativity, delightful flirting, and solver of all mechanical problems.
George learned to weld from his father who worked at the shipyard near Philadelphia.
As a teenager he loved drag racing and became an expert at scavenging parts to build and modify his dragsters. There he met fellow competitors Art Arfons and ‘Big Daddy’ Don Garlits.
Graduating from high school in 1954, George enlisted in the Navy and later joined the SeaBee Reserves. With Top Secret Clearance, he served on SeaBee missions around the world, retiring with the rank of Captain.
In 1962 Constantine headed to Florida to work with his uncle who owned Gulf Steel. That same year George met Gillian Mary Perrin on a double blind date and shortly they became life partners. Catching a certain gleam in his eyes, Gillian was the only one who could check George’s practical jokes and schemes by simply saying, “You would benefit from adult supervision, so don’t even think about it.”
In 1965, George and his younger brother, Joe, established C & C Welding which evolved into Consteel, one of the premier steel fabrication companies in South Florida from the late 60s until Gillian’s death from cancer in 1991.
When posed with an unusual challenge, George would reply, “Don’t say it can’t be done. I’ll prove you wrong.” The Tampa International Airport Escalator Installation was a prime example. During the construction of the two-story atrium where escalators would allow passengers access from the terminals and to the baggage area work halted on how to begin the installation of 30-foot long steel beams to support the escalators. George told the site manger, “Give me two fork lifts and we’ll take care of the rest.” Today, thousands still ride those escalators supported on the steel structures Consteel erected.
In 1981, Dave Knapp remembers arriving on a Consteel work site as a freelance welder and asked, “Who is that little guy barking out orders?” The quick reply, “Your boss.” Dave ended up a full-time employee, becoming the company’s shop floor foreman, and married Constantine daughter, Brenda.
Gillian and George’s family grew to six with the births of Mary Jo, Cathy, Brenda and finally Trey. Their final home in Florida was named The Gathering Place. Many have fond memories of the parties with dancing, G & Ts, Tabbouleh, Stuffed Grape Leaves, deep-fried turkeys, hamburgers, kabobs, Oysters Rockefeller and steaks followed with Pineapple Cheesecake and Pineapple Upside Down Cake, George’s favorites.
When Hurricane Elena struck the Gulf Coast in 1985, George hooked up the Consteel welding truck generators and Gillian made oodles of PB&J sandwiches to feed neighbors and strangers alike.
Always a family man, George taught all his kids the art of fishing, but hunting was not to be. Returning home with a slain deer carcass, Mary Jo, Cathy and Brenda burst into tears, crying. “You shot Bambi.” After that, the orange hunting suit remained in the closet.
The Constantine Valentine’s Day was always celebrated with red roses for Gillian, one for each year of their marriage, one pink each for Mary Jo, Cathy and Brenda, plus a yellow rose for Trey.
Grandson Evan, now a welder and mechanic himself in Colorado Springs, was taught the “Finesse of Welding Together Two Aluminum Cans With No Burn-Through” by his grandad.
Then there was Trey’s first car, a 1967 Mustang. Together, Trey and his dad rebuilt the car three times, the last time here in North Carolina while listening to Atlanta Brave games on the radio.
For the second Punkin’ Chunkin,’ George welded all the steel used to build a 20-foot tall trebuchet for The Hayesville Hurlers. The machine came in between 2 to 3 tons in weight, requiring two semi-trailers to move it to the festival site. With 1,000 pounds of lead counterweight, the trebuchet earned the moniker, The Big One, capable of hurling pumpkins 1,500 to 2,000 feet.
The Hayesville Hurlers moved on to competing with an Air Cannon, designed and built by George. Butch Wiegold said, “George had it in his head from the start. There is nothing he couldn’t do.” Sourcing the materials for such a project might have posed problems for some, but Constantine reached back into all the contacts from his years in steel fabrication. As Toni Wiegold put it, “George could source anything and everything.”
The air propulsion system contrived by George required two 500-gallon propane tanks, seasoned with a special bath. The cannon features a 20-foot long by 8-inch barrel. With 120 PSI, the cannon named Hurler, easily shoots a pumpkin 3,500 feet, about two-thirds of a mile. A manifold and horn which releases the air valve in one long blast is always a crowd pleaser.
During these last years, while down in Kennesaw with Trey and Cathy’s families, George’s creations became smaller in scale. There were the numerous specialty boxes for his doctors, medical associates and the army of nurses he loved flirting with. “Everybody gets a gift. Everybody deserves a little something.”
Returning to drum-making, he utilized exotic woods and shapes. Trey says his dad’s mathematical abilities were astounding and loved watching his dad “engaging his left and right brain simultaneously, never quitting, always positive — the last of a certain breed.”
So typical of George throughout his long, full life, he knew when to call in hospice. Sipping a sangria and thinking of his late wife, Gillian, he commented to his children, “She’s waited for me for 33 years.”
The Wiegolds have refurbished a bench George built way back, which will be dedicated to Mister George and longtime bud, Rudy Araiza. Come and sit a while.