I didn’t grow up in a peaceful home.

My grandfather became the steady hand I needed. He picked me up from school. Took me on errands. Let me shadow him on jobs. At the time, I thought we were just palling around. In reality, he was shaping how I would show up in the world.

He taught me grit by example. I remember when he bought a half acre of brush-covered land behind his house. The fence had to be torn down and rebuilt. The rocks had to be hauled and stacked. I was seven, and the work felt endless. When I asked why we had to do it, Grandpa just dropped another boulder on the pile and said, “Some things just need doing.”

He taught me how to lead without a title. After every camping trip, he made us clean an area twice as big as the one we used. I didn’t get it at first. He’d just say, “Leave it better than you found it.”

He taught me emotional discipline. Once, a customer chewed him out over something that wasn’t his fault. Grandpa didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and asked, “How do you want me to fix it?” Later he told me, “There’s no fixing the damage once you lose your temper.”

It wasn’t until much later I realized—my grandfather wasn’t just teaching life lessons. He was modeling sales. The kind rooted in service, not ego. In responsibility, not reaction.

That’s why I do what I do. Because some things just need doing. Because I believe in leaving people and situations better than I found them. And because in this business—when things go sideways—I’d rather take a breath and ask how to fix it than torch the whole thing with ego.

That’s how I sell. That’s how I lead. And that’s how I keep Grandpa close.