I’m not a theorist. I’m a business builder and operator who has spent most of his career in places where failure was expensive and excuses had a short shelf life.
Over the years, I’ve built companies, rebuilt them, broken things, fixed them, and led teams through situations where the stakes were real, the margins were thin, and payroll still had to get made on Friday.
Some lessons came from success. A lot came from getting punched in the mouth by reality and figuring out what to do next.

I didn’t start in a boardroom. I started in my mom’s car dealership because “let the lot boys handle him” passed for childcare. I pushed cars, washed vehicles, and did whatever needed doing.
Then I realized they were getting paid and I wasn’t. I asked for money. She said no. I quit and teamed up with my great-grandma Mimi, who could outcook just about anyone alive.
We started a lemonade and hand pie operation out of the dealership using her recipes and my mom’s grocery tab. We made money day one. By day two there was a line. By day three we needed help.
No brand. No plan. Just great food, long hours, and no patience for excuses.
Then it got real.
Manufacturing, restaurants, retail, hotels, events, and construction. Different industries, same headaches. You still had to make payroll, turn a profit, keep good people, and somehow get everything done on time.
I’ve made bad calls, screwed things up, and learned some lessons I’d rather not pay tuition for a second time. I kept showing up anyway.
I stepped into a manufacturing company under pressure and helped lead it to a $53 million exit. Not because I’m special. Because the team showed up and did the work.
I’ve walked into chaos and built order. Fixed what others buried. Made payroll when the math said no. Slept like shit and showed up anyway.
That’s where G.R.I.T. came from. Not from a book or a classroom. From real businesses, real pressure, and real consequences.
I'm not a coach. I don't sell vibes. I build companies from the inside out.
If your systems run but your people don't care, congrats. You built a very efficient dumpster fire.
Over the years, a handful of lessons kept showing up again and again. The importance of systems. Finding the right people and putting them in the right roles. Preparing before pressure arrives. Treating people with respect. Building teams that can succeed without depending on one person.
Those are the lessons I talk about on stage. Not because they sound good. Because I've watched what happens when you ignore them.


I never expected to end up on a keynote stage. Building businesses was always the plan. Talking about them for a living was not.
Public speaking wasn’t new to me. I competed in speech and debate in high school and college, and I’d spent years leading teams and standing in front of rooms full of people. Getting in front of a room wasn’t the hard part.
I didn't think I had a keynote. I thought I had a bunch of business stories, a collection of scars, and enough expensive lessons to keep me from making all the same mistakes twice. Great for talking over a beer or passing along to my nieces and nephews.
Then Dan Clark ruined a perfectly good plan.
Dan is the best keynote speaker I’ve ever heard. He helped me realize that what I thought were just business stories actually had something to teach.
Leaders under pressure don’t need motivation. They need direction.
Drift stops when truth shows up. The right message can reset a team fast.
Everything I’ve built came from leading real people through hard moments with honesty, humor, and execution.
If that’s the kind of room you’re running, we’ll get along just fine.
If that resonates, you already know the kind of room this works in.