A Day in the Life of the Stone Detective
Dr. Frederick M. Hueston, PhD
It was one of those rare, chilly mornings in Florida, with temperatures dipping into the low 50s. I grabbed my jacket and fedora and headed out to the garage, where my trusty old Woody waited for me. With its polished wood panels and the faint smell of aged leather inside, the Woody was more than just a car—it was a part of me. The engine roared to life with a throaty rumble, and off I went, bound for my favorite greasy spoon.
As I pulled into the diner parking lot, the regulars were already there. Flo, the ever-cheerful waitress with a memory sharper than a diamond blade, was juggling coffee pots, while the Admiral, a retired Navy man with endless sea stories, held court in his usual corner booth. I slid into my spot at the counter, and Flo greeted me with a steaming cup of black coffee and a knowing smile.
Before I could even take a sip, my phone buzzed—a call from a frantic homeowner. She explained that mysterious dark spots were appearing on her marble countertop, and no matter what she tried, they wouldn’t go away. I assured her I’d be over within the hour, jotted down her address on a napkin, and polished off my eggs and toast.
Hopping back into the Woody, I cruised down the scenic coastal road to her home. The Woody may not be the fastest car, but it’s got style, and there’s something about that smooth ride that makes you feel connected to the past. When I arrived, I was greeted by a frazzled woman who quickly ushered me into her kitchen. The marble countertop, once a gleaming showpiece, was now marred by dark, unsightly spots.
I put on my gloves and got to work. A few drops of water on the surface showed that the marble was sealed, but the stains absorbed the water, suggesting a compromised sealant.
I asked her if anything had spilled recently, and she hesitated before mentioning a dinner party where red wine had flowed freely.
“Well, there’s our culprit,” I said with a grin. “Wine, especially red, is notorious for staining marble when the sealant’s been breached.”
I explained how we’d use a poultice to draw out the stains, followed by resealing the countertop to prevent future damage. Relieved, she thanked me, and I climbed back into the Woody, ready for the next call.
The phone rang again as I drove off, this time from a commercial property manager.
He was concerned about a hazy film that had developed on the lobby’s granite floor after recent renovations. I pointed the Woody toward the towering glass-and-steel building downtown, its polished exterior a stark contrast to the hazy stone inside.
Walking into the lobby, I could immediately see the issue. The granite floor lacked its usual luster, dulled by a cloudy residue. A quick pH test on the surface confirmed my suspicion—improper cleaning agents, likely high in alkalinity, had left behind the haze. I advised the manager to switch to a pH-neutral cleaner and scheduled a professional polishing to restore the granite’s natural shine.
By mid-afternoon, I received a call from a contractor restoring a historic building. They had uncovered an old stone wall with unusual white streaks and needed my expertise. After navigating the narrow streets leading to the site, I parked the Woody near the entrance and grabbed my tools.
The streaks were a classic case of efflorescence—salts migrating to the surface due to moisture trapped behind the stone. I explained how proper ventilation and a gentle cleaning regimen could mitigate the issue without damaging the historic stone. The contractor nodded, taking notes as I outlined the steps.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the coastline, I steered the Woody back to the diner for a well-earned slice of Flo’s famous pie. The neon sign buzzed to life just as I pulled into the lot. Inside, Flo greeted me with a grin and slid a plate of warm apple pie across the counter.
“Busy day, Detective?” she asked, topping off my coffee.
“You could say that,” I replied, savoring the first bite. The mix of cinnamon and apples was the perfect end to the day.
As I sat there, the hum of the diner around me, I reflected on the cases I’d tackled. From mysterious stains to hazy granite floors, every problem had its own story. And just like the Woody, my work as the Stone Detective was all about uncovering the past and restoring what’s been lost.
The Stone Detective is a fictional character created by Dr. Frederick M. Hueston, PhD, written to entertain and educate. Dr. Fred has written over 33 books on stone and tile installations, fabrication and restoration and also serves as an expert for many legal cases across the world. Send your comments to fhueston@stoneforensics.com.