Dear Suzy,
For reasons too complicated to explain — but which involve four dogs, my
husband’s allergies, and a pair of wild kittens we rescued from campus — we
are considering ripping up our wall-to-wall carpet and going with stained
concrete through much of our small house. The sticking point is, of course,
what’s under there? Most of our slab is covered with that 1950s
pinkish-orange tile — the same stuff they have on the floor at The Hole in the
Wall. It seems to have been very popular in Austin 40 years ago.
We have several questions: First of all, does this stuff contain asbestos?
And secondly, how do we pull it up? Some friends of ours who also have this
kind of tile noticed that it came up quite nicely when their water heater
sprang a leak and flooded their hall; I don’t suppose we could just pour
boiling water on the stuff and pry it up, huh?
And, secondly, assuming we can pull up the tile, is there likely to be a
bunch of icky, sticky goo left on the slab? How would we deal with that? Is it
better just to keep all this stuff hidden and plan on offering a generous
carpet allowance when we eventually sell the house?
Lastly, just how difficult is it to actually stain the slab once we get
down to it? Are there any books on this you could recommend?
Sincerely,
Susan S.
Dear Susan,
If your beautiful orange-ish flooring predates the early 1970s, it probably
does contain asbestos. Don’t panic, though. The asbestos in your tiles is
probably “non-fryable.” In asbestos-eating cultures this means it’s better
poached or grilled, both healthier alternatives to frying. In our
asbestos-abstaining society, non-fryable means the offending fibers are
“encased” and not harmful unless released into the air through sanding,
drilling, or pulverizing.
I like the boiling water idea and it’s certainly worth a try. Even if it
doesn’t exactly send those tiles flying off, the hot water might at least
loosen them up a bit. (If it doesn’t, try a case of Shiner Bock. It always
works on me.) For removing stubborn adhesive — as if there’s any other kind —
arm yourself with a wallpaper scraper and 18 zillion blades, a hot air gun, and
any of the Shiners you didn’t pour on the floor. If you successfully remove the
stickiness, but there’s still discoloration on the floor from the glue, you
could work this into your final design when you stain it by creating a subtle
checkerboard pattern which echoes the ghostly remains of the former tiles. (Not
an original idea. I’ve seen this done somewhere…)
As for staining the floor, there’s a variety of products on the market that
range from gland-swelling toxins to fairly benign dyes. I’ve yet to find a book
devoted to the topic, but since I live in a concrete house with concrete floors
and concrete counters and concrete window sills, I’ve learned a little about
staining the stuff from bungling experiments in my own home. My favorite
staining stew is a mixture of copperas (an iron supplement for plants available
for cheap, cheap, cheap at garden centers) and a burgundy Rit dye named Wine.
Mix a packet of the Rit dye and a couple of tablespoons of copperas into a
quart of water. Sponge it on the floor, taking care not to splash it onto
anything you don’t want colored a rosy terra-cotta hue. Slop on a coating or
two of Saltillo tile sealer, squint your eyes, and admire your handiwork.
I’m here at Suzebe@aol.com or The Austin Chronicle PO Box
49066, Austin, TX, 78765.
This article appears in June 21 • 1996 and June 21 • 1996 (Cover).