Craftsmanship.
Engineering.
Excellence.

We exist to build to the glory of God. He is the maker of all things — the first craftsman, the original designer, and the one who gives skill to the hands of men.

Every weld, panel, and detail is an opportunity to honor the creativity He placed in us. We are created in His image: builders, makers, designers, thinkers, weavers, forgers, and finishers. That truth shapes everything we do at Hammer Fab.

Our standards are high because we believe the work of our hands matters. We pursue award-winning attention to detail, creative solutions, and the kind of outside-the-box thinking that breaks the mold of what a typical shop is. We are not just different — we are incomparable, and often unmatched in regard to our abilities, build style, and attention to detail.

After honing my skills as a hired metal fabricator in some of the best shops in the country, I decided it was time to spread my wings and become an entrepreneur. I began this journey on a wing and a prayer — no trust fund, no winning ticket, no safety net. Just faith, determination, and a whole lot of late nights. Hammer Fab was officially born in 2014 out of my garage in Liberty Hill, Texas. It was survival born out of necessity: newly married, a baby on the way, and getting older by the minute. In the middle of all that uncertainty, starting something new felt dangerous, daring, and exactly right.

Our first real shop was a 2,500-square-foot building in Liberty Hill, rented from a kind couple who believed in us more than we probably deserved. It had no air conditioning, bare concrete floors, poor insulation, and not enough electrical to run much of anything — and as the tenant, I had to pay to fix all of it right out of the gate. I was naive, desperate to look the part, and fully committed to the "fake it until you make it" school of business.

I'll never forget my first week alone in that building. I had one car inside: a 1933 Ford Roadster, the first guy willing to write me a check. I had no lift, no ramps, and no floor jack yet. So I chopped up 2x4s and drove a hundred long deck screws into four homemade wheel stands just to get the car off the ground. What I thought would be a quick task before I could finally bill some hours ended up eating the entire day. Not a single minute of paid labor got done. Reality set in fast: if I was going to make this work, I was going to have to outwork everyone — including every version of myself that had come before. That truth still rings true today. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Over ten years later, we have inched our way toward bigger, better, more stressful opportunities. Or maybe they're just bigger opportunities dressed up as stress. Either way, there's an addiction to survival in this business — a rush, a daily roller coaster of high highs and low lows, sometimes several times in the same day. Running a business was brand new to me. I had to learn how to get the work, promote the work, manage a website, handle social media, eventually hire help, then become part psychologist, part communication expert, and part bill collector — all while keeping the lights on. It's a good thing God gifted me with ADHSP (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Super Power), because it is remarkably handy for this role.

After ten years of growth, adding team members, losing team members, paying way too many taxes, and still not getting rich, I have been stretched into a person I never planned to become — but was apparently destined to become. I am smarter, wiser, tougher, and more resilient than I ever imagined I could be. Yet the distractions of building a business led me away from God. It wasn't sudden. It was like the frog in the pot of slowly warming water: he doesn't realize he's about to get cooked. I prayed, but I was drifting, and I didn't know how to get back. I was in a spiritual rut.

Fast forward to December 25, 2025. Christmas morning, my wife Kristine handed me a small gift: a 40-day leadership devotional. It didn't look like much, and honestly, I didn't think I had room for it — I've never been much of a reader, and my plate was already overflowing. But somehow, God got my attention through that little book. I wasn't going to start the new year with another empty resolution; I was going to start it with restoration. I committed to reading it every morning, sitting in my car in the dark before anyone else arrived at the shop. No phones, no distractions — just me, God, and a dim light shining into the darkness of my soul. I finished every entry without missing a day, and when it was done, I began reading the Bible each morning — one chapter at a time, starting in John. That discipline became the jolt I needed; it revived my spirit and turned my heart back to God's Word.

We also began making changes as a team. Monday morning meetings became a non-negotiable, and every member of the crew knows to bring a notebook. We celebrate the weekly wins, and we train the muscles of intentionality. On Thursday mornings, we hold an "Hour of Improvement" — every team member is paid to work on themselves, whether that means learning a new skill, drawing, taking an online course, or getting better with Procreate on an iPad. We also started a Bible study for anyone who wanted to join. The main thing I needed was alignment: my tires were flat, my bushings were wobbling, and my ball joints were out. I had been leaving God out of the equation, trying too hard to do it all on my own. That has changed. Hammer Fab is God's business, and we intend to run it that way.

Hammer Fab was built because the cars we wanted to see on the road weren't being built anywhere else — traditional in silhouette, modern in how they drive, and flawless in execution. Every build is a chance to serve our customers well, but more than that, it is an act of worship. We work with sincerity of heart, not merely to please people, but because the work of our hands ultimately belongs to the One who gave us the hands.

The shop, the academy, and Street Connection all share one floor because the best way to teach is on real projects, and the best way to build is by teaching what we know. Honest engineering, hand-formed metal, and finish work that holds up in daylight are not just standards — they are the fingerprints of craftsmen who know who they really serve.

Put On the New Self

Slaves, obey those who are your human masters in everything, not with eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord and not for people, knowing that it is from the Lord that you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve. For the one who does wrong will receive the consequences of the wrong which he has done, and that without partiality.

Colossians 3:22–25 NASB