The Ghost of Bethlehem Steel

I grew up in the Lehigh Valley. In that part of Pennsylvania, you live in the shadow of Bethlehem Steel. Even after the stacks stopped smoking, the culture remained: you work hard, you value the "how," and you take pride in the strength of what you build.

That was the "steel-town" engineer in me. But in 2021, that mindset was put to the ultimate test.

My family and I packed up and headed for the Texas Hill Country. We moved in the middle of a world still locked behind screens and COVID restrictions. I wasn’t just starting a new job; I was tasked with building a team where 80% of the seats were empty. I had to hire, onboard, and lead a group of strangers from the ground up, all while we were kept physically apart.

The "engineer" in me wanted to control every variable. I wanted to be the one to fix every technical glitch and dictate every process. But you can't build a foundation of trust through a webcam if you’re trying to hold onto all the power.

I had to trust the forge. I had to let go of the "wrench" and start trusting the talents of the people I was hiring. I had to believe that the strength of the team wouldn't come from my technical expertise, but from the stability—the Anchor—I could provide for them while the world felt like it was shifting under our feet.

It was the hardest transition of my life, but it’s where the Anvil and Anchor was truly born.

Welcome to the journey. I’m glad you’re here.