They meet over doughnuts every Thursday morning, a group of retired men looking for something useful to do, a reason to get out of the house. But there's no time to sit around, drink coffee and shoot the breeze.

There's work to be done. Their project manager - and, for a few minutes, devotional leader - gathers them together to talk about the construction work ahead and to read a poem called "Touch of the Master's Hand," about the value of a battered violin when it's played by a man who can make it sing.

Then the men in their paint-splotched jeans and their scuffed work boots pick up their equipment - sawhorses, levels, boxes of nails - and head to the lot where, sometime next spring, two families will move into the twin homes the men build as volunteers for Habitat for Humanity.

This Thursday, the houses are just a freshly set-up concrete foundation, the outline of a crawl space. Next year, it will be home, set high with a view of the Hills and a short walk to General Beadle Elementary School and the north branch of the public library.

Two small, square houses, a good place for young families to grow, and every bit as nice as anything these volunteers grew up in, volunteer Dave Strom said, recalling the "cold-water flat" he lived in on the south side of Chicago.

The Thursday crew, men in their 50s, 60s, 70s, and even an 83-year-old, jump right into the work at the site. Some are former engineers or worked in the construction industry, but there is an attorney and others with no previous building experience.

They've has been working together for about six years, since a couple of Lutheran churches volunteered for Habitat. Some of the workers kept with it, and others joined them, and Thursday became something to look forward to.

When they unload their equipment, the men fall into their work, not in a loud way like younger, hired men, but quietly and with purpose, conferring over how to attach the framing and drywall, when to snap a chalk line, where to drill a hole.

They only raise their voices when someone can't hear over the sound of the generator and saw, perhaps because his hearing aid is turned off.

"Why don't you get a drill?" "What?" "A drill." "What?" "A drill."

They'll work until lunch, and then again until mid-afternoon, and then be back again next Thursday, and the one after that, skipping only Thanksgiving and Christmas if it happens to be on a Thursday.

"It's amazing what a bunch of old retired people can do," Strom said as he brushed debris from around the foundation with a small broom, so tar will stick to it and water won't seep in.

Project manager John Schencke, who used to be a volunteer himself before he was hired by Habitat, says it is a group where everyone is an equal, and there's no stupid question a newcomer can ask about why something is built a certain way. He trusts in their work and doesn't mind leaving the volunteers to their own devices when he has to go pick up supplies.

Dale Tomlinson said they help each other because it isn't a competition.

"We're not trying to move up the ladder of success. We're just trying to do a job."

Formerly in the construction industry, he got involved with Habitat as an RV-er who caravanned around the country, vacationing and volunteering on the houses at the same time.

Working Thursdays, he doesn't have the same interaction with the people who buy the homes, in part with their sweat equity, as he does working two weeks at a time on a property. He likes to go to the dedications, to see the family who will enjoy having a solid place to live, often for the first time.

Tomlinson had a heart attack four years ago and was looking for something active to do in retirement. The work helps keep his heart strong - and lets him put it to work for someone else.

If you go

Volunteers are welcome to contribute to the construction of Habitat for Humanity homes with the Thursday crew, the Saturday crew or in a group of their own. Go to blackhillshabitat.org or call 348-9196 for more information. Volunteers must be at least 16 years old and must register online before they can work.