From Philly to the Islands
I grew up in Philadelphia playing everything the city had to offer until two stuck: soccer and lacrosse. Soccer went competitive at six and never let go. My time with lacrosse turned form competitive to pastime, as my High School area in Atlanta did not have lacrosse as a school sport. In addition to a relentless passion for soccer, I also was blessed to be brought up in a golfing family, which I cannot be more thankful for. I joke with people about how from the time I could walk I had a soccer ball between my feet and a golf club in my hands. Clemson for civil engineering — studying structures while still competing. Norwich for the master’s. Hawai’i is home now, and the beach and mountains are where I reset.
Philadelphia is where it started — a kid playing everything the city had to offer, until three sports stuck. Soccer at six, competitive from the first season and never letting go. Lacrosse for the hitting and the hustle. And golf, where the patience of the game quietly got under my skin. The family moved to Atlanta for my high school years, and the sports came with me — fields, courses and gyms across two cities, early mornings and late practices, teaching discipline long before engineering ever did. Philly gave the edge, Atlanta gave the summers of golf, and both built the competitor I still am.
Growing Up: Philly & Atlanta
College started at Presbyterian College — small classes, big ambitions — then the transfer to Clemson to finish what mattered: a Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering, earned while still pulling on cleats for soccer and a stick for lacrosse. Learning how structures stand led to the better question of why they fall, so on to Norwich University for a Master of Science in Structural Engineering. The habits never left: show up early, compete hard, study the details. Clemson gave the engineering foundation, Norwich gave the depth, and both taught me that structures — and people — fail for reasons you can learn to read.
Collegiate Years: The Engineer Emerges
Career in hand, the passport got a workout — traveling the world one trip at a time, golf bag and cleats always close, courses played and pitches found on four continents. Soccer never left the blood: playing whenever a match could be found, and eventually coaching the next generation through theirs — a different kind of competitive, and a better one. Now it’s island life with my family and our dog: beach mornings, mountain afternoons, a whistle always within reach, and the occasional round before the trade winds pick up. The travel taught perspective, the coaching taught patience, and the island taught both to slow down.
Life After: The World & the Whistle
