From a bull float to a boardroom.

I was raised in gray dust. Before I ever signed a timecard, I watched my family pour — three generations who made their living in concrete, tracing back to the job sites of Puerto Rico, where the mixers read Concreto Puerto Rico and the work started before the sun did. Concrete was the family trade long before it was my career. I just chose to carry it further.

I started for real in 1993, in Miami, as a laborer and cement finisher on union crews. I learned the trade the way it's meant to be learned — on my knees on the mud slab, trowel in hand, surrounded by men who'd been doing it for decades. Concrete doesn't care about excuses. You get one pour, one window, one shot to get it plumb, level, and true before it sets and remembers your work forever. That standard shaped everything after it.

From finisher I moved to foreman, and in 2008 I became General Superintendent at Morgan Rice Construction in Miami — running daily field operations on multiple concurrent high-rise concrete projects from mobilization through closeout, directing crews of thirty-plus, coordinating owners, inspectors, and subcontractors, and holding the line on OSHA safety and ACI/ASTM quality on some of the largest single pours in the market. Fifteen years in the Miami high-rise game teaches you that leadership isn't a title — it's whether the pour goes right when everyone is watching you.

In 2023 I brought that field knowledge north to Pittsburgh and stepped into the office as a Project Manager and Concrete Estimator at NSS Construction — building quantity takeoffs, pricing labor, material, and equipment, and bidding concrete scopes from half a million to five million dollars. I estimate the way I ran crews: from real production rates, not guesswork. Going from the field to the office isn't a step down or a coast — it's a reinvention, and it demanded everything three decades on the slab had taught me.

Everything I build runs on three things: hope, strength, and integrity. Hope, because I've rebuilt myself more than once and I know a man can. Strength, because concrete and leadership both demand it. Integrity, because the work you do when no one is watching is the work still standing after you're gone. Same discipline my family poured with. Higher stakes. That's the name on the last pour.