I didn’t grow up dreaming about being a tech founder or a CEO.

I didn’t grow up thinking about IPOs or building an ecosystem of brands.

I grew up in church.

But when I was around 18, something happened that quietly changed the direction of my entire life.

I got the chance to step into computers.

Not casually.

Not “maybe I’ll learn one day.”

I got thrown into it — and it awakened something in me that I didn’t even know existed.

That opportunity came through a man named David Blair.

He’s no longer here now — and it still hits me when I say that — but he played a massive role in my story.

David was over Winterfest in Cleveland, Tennessee (Church of God).

Winterfest is huge. Youth conferences everywhere. Energy. Purpose. Events. Venues. Thousands of young people gathering around faith, passion, and direction.

And for some reason that still blows my mind, I was trusted at a young age to be put in charge — for one year — to help oversee the marketing for the venues.

Let me say it plain:

That was my first real start in business.

It gave me responsibility. Pressure. A target. A deadline. A role. A seat at the table.

And I loved it.

I was so happy.

I felt like I had been handed something sacred — like I was a young man being given permission to become something bigger than my environment. That whole experience lit me up.

Because it wasn’t about hype.

It was about building something real.

And it introduced me to the tools that would eventually become my entire career: marketing, design, visuals, communication.

Looking back, Winterfest wasn’t just a church event.

It was a launchpad.

It was the moment I learned this truth:

When you can communicate clearly, you can build almost anything.

And David Blair was part of that beginning.

So today, I honor him.

I’ll never forget that season.

I’ll never forget being trusted.

I’ll never forget the feeling of being 18 and realizing my hands could create.

Rest in peace, David.

Thank you for seeing something in me before the world did.