40 years ago, in Bakersfield, California, a roofer was born. David Petrali was a young father trying to make ends meet. Then, in answer to prayer, a man approached him at church, and asked Dave if he wanted a job. David didn’t hesitate. The kind of work didn’t matter. Meeting his family’s needs did. The next day, he was on a roof, learning the trade that would transform his life.

Bakersfield was hot. The temperature on a roof in Southern California can approach 190 degrees in summer- hot enough to fry an egg or cook a man’s hands to a nice medium rare. In the early 80’s, it wasn’t uncommon to see Dave’s girls on the ground, hose in hand, red-hair dampened by the sweat of summer, spraying him down on the roof. They’d steal a drink from the hose, and ask dad about the ice-cream cone he’d promised for their help.

There was no shortage of work in Bakersfield. Over the next five years David honed his craft, excelling at hot mop roofing. There was no counting the number of schools and commercial buildings he hot mopped. Thousands. The risk associate with this type of work is hard to imagine.

During the hot mop process, 100lb blocks of tar are melted in a large witch’s cauldron, bubbling and boiling nearly to 600 degrees before being pumped and mopped over the surface of the roof. Any error could melt a man’s skin and permanently disfigure him. It was strenuous, back-breaking labor. The California sun, normally a tourist attraction and source of inspiration for song, was an enemy to the roofer.

The work was hard, the days were longer, but it paid the bills. David would come home, covered in tar, clothes too ruined for anything but another day of roofing. Yet, he kept a smile and a song. Often neighbors of the house being re-roofed would hear a hymn ringing out over the hammers. The joy of the Lord was David’s strength on many occasions.