I was born and raised in the Baldwinsville, NY area. Country, but not really. My parents built their house on part of my grandparents' land, outside town to the west. That was country — wide-open corn fields, neighbors half a mile apart.

My parents were part of a small group that started a church from a Bible study in 1966. By 1972 they had a building. That church is still there today — Faith Baptist Church and School in Baldwinsville. So I was raised in the church. Six days a week, twice on Sunday. My parents enrolled me at four, about to turn five that December. I got to relive kindergarten because I was a little slow. Thirteen years of school. Graduated kindergarten twice and high school once — barely. But I knew by then who my Lord and Savior is.

After high school, faced with college debt or following my two older brothers into the US Air Force, I took the easier route. The Air Force was awesome for a kid right out of school — a little scary, but it kept me in line. Mostly.

Nine years. Military-trained carpenter, mason, welder. Stationed in Japan, Qatar, Panama, Germany, Alaska. Told myself I could do better as a civilian. By then I'd been married twice, had two kids and a stepson — none from my first wife, who I left in Alaska. Her choice, not mine.

I exited the military in Arkansas and found out quickly all the things I didn't know about being a civilian. I had failed to educate myself on anything I needed to know — but how do you know what you don't know? All I knew was that God had a plan and would show me when He was good and ready.

My children's mother, I found out later, was a recovering addict. I didn't really understand what that meant until I lived it. Three years we were together, and she fell hard back into pain pills. In her defense, she was diagnosed epileptic at fifteen — I still can't imagine what that was like for a high school kid. The medications she'd been on for over twelve years by then were mind-melting. I couldn't handle the ups and downs, the street deals she was getting into. I had to go. I ran back to New York with my son and daughter.

Somehow, she and her mom convinced a judge I was the bad guy. She got custody. I finished truck driving school and moved back to Arkansas just to be near my kids. At least she gave me every chance I could get to visit them.

I found work hauling water in the oil and gas fields of northern Arkansas. Twelve months in, it began to dry up. A couple of the guys were looking to move to Oklahoma — more money, three weeks on and one week off, sixteen hours a day. I thought, sure — more money, a whole week with my children.

That first week off, I came back to Arkansas and found my ex in jail. My kids in state custody. My week with them turned into a supervised hour.

Six months of that headache, and the wells dried up again. The guys started talking about Texas. How much worse could it be?

Off to Texas. East Texas. Pecos. All the while I'm trying to find a family member who could adopt my kids — I was making good money, but had no way to care for them. My sister volunteered. She married young and planned never to have children, so it was a hard decision. She and her husband turned out to be the best parents for two kids who didn't know what that meant.

My kids are in New York. I'm in Texas as of late 2014. I talked my brother into coming out to work with me — that was an awesome time, catching up with him. He'd lived in Tennessee since 2000. I spent a lot of time at his place when I couldn't make it to New York. That's where I met my current wife in 2015, soon after leaving the oil fields for good.

2016 is when I finally started educating myself. If you watch enough YouTube videos and podcasts on topics you actually want to learn, it's incredibly rewarding. I can't believe how much I've learned. The world is changing — and I began learning about it just in time.

I got a job driving over the road. In 2019, my wife and I moved to Florida. My parents were getting older and I was missing time with them, so we settled near Clearwater. I had some great years catching up with my dad.

He died in 2020. The whole family gathered in Florida for his passing and funeral. My sister made the hard choice — sell her house in New York and move down to help our mom. That was totally cool with me. I had my children near me, got to spend real time with them.

I'm almost 50 now. My kids are adults with jobs. I'm thinking more and more about starting something they could help with, or just benefit from. I started thinking I'd be a handyman — but that would keep me so busy I wouldn't have time to create anything else.

I'm a bit of a dreamer. I have to pull myself back to reality sometimes. But I'm starting to think my dreams are closer than most people can imagine.

KentCraft is a piece of history — the essence of how woodcraft and building used to be. Hand-crafted pieces of wood and metal, formed flawlessly into art that lasted generations. The passion behind every piece was a timeless treasure that seldom got mentioned. That passion is mostly gone now. Most things made today are disposable, mass-produced, and nobody cares who made them. KentCraft is a relic of yesteryear — brought forward.

Williams is a vision into the future — the process that will build tomorrow. As we march forward, I see robotics becoming the vast majority of manufacturing. Systems getting smarter. Products getting built better. Not disposable goods — pieces that will last hundreds of years, as they did in the past that no one remembers.

Pulling those two visions together into one corporation — KentCraft and Williams.

I envision multiple subsidiaries growing from a solid foundation. Home 3D printing. Self-driving heavy equipment. Humanoid robots. Bitcoin mining. Energy production. The future is coming fast — and we plan on being part of it, giving back to the communities we serve.

Dispatch is the first arm — connecting homeowners with trusted service providers. First to reply wins the lead. Fast, fair, local.

Bitcoin Consulting is the second — helping people and businesses understand, accept, and use Bitcoin with clarity and practical guidance. No hype. Just real tools, real payments, and a path that makes sense.

Ted's Awnings is the third — handcrafted RV awnings, decks, and patio setups for full-time living. Shade you can rent or buy, built solid for Florida sun and summer storms.

This isn't just a business. It's a proving ground for how local economies can be built differently — with craftsmanship, with Bitcoin, with trust, and with transparency.