For years after that, I built in other industries.
I worked as a produce broker, structuring deals where I sold seed to farmers, purchased their crop, sold to markets, and controlled freight between them. I built and scaled service operations across multiple states. I purchased a 28-unit motel operating as a low-tier monthly rental property, removed the existing tenant base, renovated the asset, rebuilt the team, repositioned the brand, and tripled its value in under three years.
I also built houses as a general contractor: new construction, remodels, and tear-down rebuilds. I built multiple homes in Northwest Arkansas while working full-time in other industries. During storm assignments, I purchased damaged properties, renovated or rebuilt them while in-market, and leveraged crews, materials, and logistics already in motion.
Across industries, the pattern was consistent:
Identify inefficiencies. Build structure. Control leverage points. Execute.
My first exposure to large-scale storm work came in 2005 during Hurricane Katrina.
I went to New Orleans to tarp roofs and saw a completely different side of the trade: emergency response, insurance complexity, speed, chaos, and scale. That environment didn't just make sense to me. It pulled me in.
Roofing was always the hard skill in my pocket. Eventually, I made a decision:
Stop running from the trade and master it.
I committed fully to storm restoration. I didn't broker deals. I wore a toolbelt. I installed full roofing systems in thirty-nine states. I built and led crews from the roof, not from a desk.
I've worked major catastrophic events including Hurricane Katrina (2005), the Joplin tornado (2011), Hurricane Michael (2018), the Iowa derecho (2020), and large-loss hail events across the Midwest.
For over fifteen years as a subcontractor, I worked inside and alongside hundreds of roofing companies across the country including small operations, multi-million-dollar firms, private equity transitions, ESOP structures, and acquisitions. I've seen what holds up and what breaks.
Most construction companies don't fail because of labor. They fail because of systems.
Through all of it, one thing stayed constant.
Northwest Arkansas.
My wife and stepson have always been based here. While I was traveling, sometimes for weeks or months at a time, this was home. I would work in chaos across the country, then come back to something steady.
That contrast defined my life.
On the road, I was chasing storms, solving problems in real time, operating in high-pressure environments where speed and execution mattered. I thrived in that chaos. It became a significant part of how I was wired and how I operated.
At home, life looked completely different. Time with my wife and family. Hiking, biking, getting outside with our husky. Keeping up with Wyatt through school, sports, and whatever he's into next. Keeping things simple and grounded.
Work hard on the road. Come home. Reset. Repeat.
We've also made a habit of traveling as a family on our terms. Every year, we pick a direction and take a road trip. No agenda beyond exploring. Trails, parks, small towns, whatever is along the way. At the same time, I'm driving through places I've worked before, remembering storms, jobs, and different seasons of life.
That balance matters. It shaped how I work, how I build, and what I value.
After two decades in the field, across industries and across the country, the problems are consistent.
Poor estimating. Incomplete scopes. No documentation. No process. No training structure. No system tying it all together.
Companies rely on people and spreadsheets instead of building systems around their people.
That works until it doesn't. Knowledge gets lost. Line items get missed. Documentation falls through. Margins disappear.
Today, I work at First Star Exteriors in Northwest Arkansas. Most of my time is in the office handling estimates, supplements, material orders, and building the systems that keep production running clean.
Since I spent most of my life using roofs and the world as my gym, I could never get into the routine of a traditional workout. So I fill my off-schedule with repairs, punch-outs, inspections, and projects to manage. It keeps me in shape, keeps my tools sharp, and keeps my field knowledge current.
Since I've built AI systems to assist with estimating and supplementing, and I have connections to adjusters, agents, and contractors across the country, and my wife has been keeping me organized on the backend for over a decade, and Wyatt is starting to get interested in learning skills and trades, we take on supplements we can handle and have turned it into a little family project that funds our vacations and outings. And maybe Wyatt a car for his upcoming 16th birthday.
I also keep a deep network of roofers, crews, tradesmen, and contractors all over the country for all kinds of situations. I like to keep my network active and help each other as much as possible.
I step into jobs, scopes, and systems that are broken and make them defensible. On paper. In the field. With the carrier.
I am a builder. That has always been the constant.
After twenty-five years of building businesses, building roofs, building teams, and building systems, I found something new to build.
The Field Desk started because I got tired of watching the same problems repeat across every company I worked inside. The same missing line items. The same incomplete documentation. The same bad handoffs. The same knowledge trapped in someone's head that walks out the door when they leave.
Our industry, and most industries at this point, has become a world full of subscriptions, paywalls, and gatekept information. It's hard to get real, reliable info when you need it in the field.
I'm building an open knowledge base and AI retrieval tool grounded in real field experience, real installation standards, and real job data. Not a SaaS app. Not a subscription service. Not a sales pitch. A resource.
I'm still learning. Still developing. Still building. I'm eager for feedback, collaboration, mentorship, and anyone willing to contribute to making this better. This is not a finished product. It's an ongoing project built by a roofer who likes to build things and wants to give back to an industry that shaped his entire life.
If it brings value to you, that's the whole point.
I am not a salesman who does roofing.
I am not a storm broker chasing contracts.
I am a tradesman who became an operator.
Everything I've built, across industries, across states, across storms, led to this.
If you need something done correctly, defensibly, and with structure behind it, I'm who you call.