I was born in West Virginia in the fall of 1977. My mother and I moved to Fort Bragg, North Carolina when I was six — my dad was already stationed there with the 82nd Airborne, where he served for 21 years. He was the kind of person who understood how things actually worked, not just how they appeared to. That probably left a mark.
I spent most of my childhood and adult life in central North Carolina — Fort Bragg, Spring Lake, Carthage, Sanford, Lillington — before moving to the High Country about four years ago. It suits me.
The beginning.
That same year we moved to Fort Bragg, I got a Tandy TRS-80 Model III for Christmas. I was six years old. I was writing in BASIC before the day was over.
I didn't think of it as a career path at the time — it was just the most interesting thing in the room, and I never really stopped. By my early twenties I was working as IT Manager for a small car dealership in Sanford, handling their website, managing the local network, maintaining the machines. It was unglamorous work by any measure, but it taught me something important: most small businesses are running on systems that nobody fully understands, and they're paying for that confusion constantly.
Why Cabin Fever Digital.
The local web design market is full of people who install a theme, drop in a logo, and call it a website. I've watched that approach leave business after business with a digital presence that doesn't reflect who they actually are or how they actually work.
There's a word for what's missing — craftsmanship.
The kind that comes from taking a client's specific situation seriously instead of routing them through a template. That's what Cabin Fever Digital is built around. Custom code, written for your business specifically. Functional tools that reflect how you actually operate. Work you own outright, with no platform holding it hostage.
It's not a complicated philosophy — it's just the standard I think local businesses deserve, and haven't been getting.
Outside the code.
I live in a cabin in Deep Gap with my wife, our youngest daughter, and four dogs — who together constitute a significant portion of the household's decision-making.
When I'm not writing code or building tools, I'm usually 3D modeling, flying drones, or out with the RC Jeep. I have a genuine weakness for classic trucks — a 1995 K2500 and a 1995 S-10 that's had a full frame-off restoration and more performance work than I'll admit to here.
They're the physical version of the same instinct that drives everything else: take something worth keeping, understand it completely, and make it better.