Neighborly Brute Strength

Recently we had to put in a new well at the family cabin. The old one was choked with sand 25 feet below ground, and so the pump had to work overtime just to suck water into the cabin. We were doubtful about our ability to do this job (we are not strong physical specimens), but Minnesota is a land of do-it-yourselfers. Dad said it wouldn't take long, maybe an hour and a half. After all, he "drilled" the first well at the cabin 40 years ago by hitting a pipe with a sledge hammer. This time, he rented some modern tools to make the job easier: a big steel bar with a heavy chain for pulling out the old well pipes, an air compressor the size of a Volkswagen and a pounder thingie that attaches to the air compressor for pounding the new pipe in.

DAY 1: Two jacks with chains were attached to the above-ground pipe. In unison, the jacks were pumped until two right arms and and one left arm were worn out. Then we borrowed Cousin Mike's and Cousin Dwight's arms. After the better part of the day, the pipe was raised one foot. Only 24 feet to go!
As the sun began to set in the west, a group of sturdy hombres strode in from the south (just down the dirt road).

There were four of them, but they had the power of ten. They used the steel bar with the heavy chain and simple brute strength in combination with faith in the laws of physics. And when the last foot of pipe emerged, there was cheering in the land. To the sturdy hombres who helped us, we say thank you.
DAY 2: Oh, the irony! Water IN a house is sure to leak. But you drill down 25 feet to a sure water source, and there's NOTHING. It was another long day of head scratching, until finally we made contact with Eddie who we will hereafter refer to as "the well whisperer." He walked in like an ER surgeon asking for stats. He sensed the problem, waved his hands over the well, and produced WATER. (Exaggeration added to shorten story.) I am happy to report that we had a small leak in the cabin today.