My story began in a secret tunnel hidden deep beneath a central Florida theme park. Up above, where the guests strolled, there were acres and acres of beautifully designed buildings filled with gorgeous wooden fixtures. One day, down in the tunnel system, I stumbled across a woodworking shop. It was like something from a fairy tale. There, amid rows of mysterious machines and tools, lay half-finished wooden objects that could only be described as art. It was obvious that though the magic showed itself up on the surface, the magic had its origin here.

For me it was not so much a place where dreams came true. It was a place where dreams began. And a seed was planted. But I knew nothing! My education began with visits to the library, long conversations with tool salesmen, hours watching Norm Abrams and Roy Underhill on PBS, a pilgrimage to Colonial Williamsburg and finally joining the drudgery of rough and tumble commercial construction. I became a carpenter!

There were so many choices, so many possible specialties. Gorgeous beach front houses and condos, affordable housing, cabinet construction, trim carpentry, furniture making and building fixtures for churches and props for plays. As time went on, I gained experience with all of them.

And one tragic day, a very dear friend suddenly passed away. Her family asked me to make an urn to hold her ashes. We were blown away with the honor and the responsibility. My friend had lived the last years of her life on a central Florida horse farm. On this property I found a small quantity of live oak. Live oak is a signature tree of the deep south, often festooned with Spanish moss. It’s lumber is rarely produced commercially, but it is stunningly beautiful and very strong. We all felt that a live oak urn, produced from wood found on the horse farm, would be perfect for our friend and family member.

Making that urn was not like any other project I had ever had in my shop. My thoughts were full of memories of my dear friend. My hearts kept turning to her family and I lifted them up in prayer as I worked. It was a very heavy, very beautiful experience.

As time went by, I came to a decision. I wanted to engage in this experience again. I wanted to reach out and interact with more people’s stories. I wanted to touch lives and bless lives as best I could with my saws and planes and chisels.

And so I resolved to make custom urns. I don’t stockpile urns, or mass produce them. I make urns to order for specific people. Though I value privacy, if offered, I want to know all about the person the urn is for. I love to know the stories. And I am willing to share the depth of the experience everyone is going thru. I hold each family up in prayer. And that is spontaneous. I couldn’t not do it.