Take a good look at the accompanying photograph. The January snow and ice, as it thawed, turned what will be the majestic courtyard of the American Tobacco Historic District into mud pie heaven. Workers were more than ankle deep in mud as they made their way around the job site.

Switching gears just slightly, let me remind everyone of all the times this forum has been used to depict the pride and enthusiasm both evident and prominent from the offices of the construction superintendents to the men with the shovels, jack hammers and forklifts. Some might even argue that I have written like a spin doctor, spinning a pseudo-positive spin on everything taking place in this massive effort.

Well, this is a massive effort. One construction superintendent told me that if this were not the largest historical restoration project underway on the United States East Coast, it had to be close to being the largest.

I have reported time and time again that the rank and file worker on the job site is apparently aware of the significance of this effort. That awareness is evident in conversations and the general demeanor of workers I encounter as I walk round and round the entire site each week.

This week, Mary Beth Simmelink, a real estate broker from New Bern who had attended a presentation I made about this restoration at the New Bern Camera Club, asked if she could go along, citing her interest in historical structures.

Now get this, she e-mailed me and asked, "Should I wear jeans and boots or something more stylish?"

After I had regained my composure and had stopped laughing, I responded that while this was an intriguing place of great historical interest, it was also a heavy-duty construction site. Old jeans and old boots would be the uniform of the day.

I had concerns about how she might adapt to several hours of sloshing through the mud to record the week's progress.

One of her most significant observations at the end of the day was her amazement at the friendliness and genuine positive attitude she encountered face to face with the workforce.

She said, "I have been on a great number of construction sites, mostly in subdivision development. I have found most construction workers on many sites to have a crusty attitude, often yelling to one another with a fair amount of swearing.

"Everywhere I went today, even through the thick of the mud, I could see men and women working, not standing around. And when I heard them communicating with one another, I could feel and hear a positive and constructive tone in their voices. These people really seem to like what they are doing and they act like they are glad to be here."

Now those are words and observations from an outside observer on the campus on one of the muddiest days of the year. Those are not the words of a spin-doctor.

I submit to all that this positive enthusiasm I have been reporting is real, is genuine ... and is going to be reflected in the finished product.

When I return each week, so many from the workforce, now recognizing my ugly mug on the other side of a camera, smile, wave, ask how I'm doing and will often stop to volunteer information about the significance of the particular project in which they are currently engaged.

It is my sincere hope that what I write about this workforce will lead those who enjoy the fruits of their labors to realize that this magnificent restoration has been done by such good people, from those pushing pencils to those pushing dirt... sometimes pushing dirt through layers of mud.