Casket Furniture!

08/01/2026

08/01/2026

Woodworking gets you a lot of “wows.” Kitchens, decks, fences, handrails — people line up for that stuff. They want it in their homes, they show it off to their neighbors.

Coffin building doesn’t work that way. Nobody’s excited to buy one. Nobody’s showing it off. It’s still just as much craft, just as much heart in every joint and every corner — but the world doesn’t clap for it the same way.

That takes a different kind of person. Not a better woodworker, just a different one — somebody who can sit with the hard stuff and still show up and build something beautiful for a family on the worst day of their life.

And here’s the thing — every town needs one. Every city, every little village with a main street and a hardware store needs somebody willing to be that person. So if you’ve ever wondered whether you’ve got what it takes… you probably do. Most people just never ask themselves the question.

07/20/2026

Ever wonder what it actually takes to build a casket by hand? This is it — no shortcuts, no assembly line, just wood, tools, and a whole lot of care that goes into something meant to hold someone’s final chapter.

We’ve been doing this since ‘97, and it still doesn’t feel like “just a job.” Every piece that comes out of this shop is built like it’s for someone we love. Because eventually, it is.

Take a look at what goes into it. 🪵⚰️

07/19/2026

Get busy living, or get busy dying. It’s an old saying, but it’s stuck with me for a reason.

Pool days, dogs barking, kids laughing underwater — this is the stuff. The whole reason any of us build anything, save anything, plan anything, is so we get more days like this one. Not fewer.

I spend my life building the last thing anyone will ever need. It’s taught me not to wait on the first thing everyone needs — which is just this. Time outside. People you love. Sun on your face.

So go get living. The rest can wait.

07/15/2026

Found this old Dallas Morning News clipping in the archives — “Rest in peace on a coffin couch.” Not a headline you forget. 📰

Behind the cheeky ad lines was a real story: my grandmother passed, my dad and I built her pine coffin by hand, and that build changed the whole direction of my life. From there it snowballed into coffin phone booths, casket furniture, and a business built on one simple idea — why buy a casket for just one day?

Almost 20 years later, still building, still writing. This clipping’s going in Chapter Two of the memoir. 🪵⚰️

07/13/2026

Twenty-nine years. That’s how long I’ve been standing in the strange, quiet corner where woodworking meets goodbye. People ask me all the time — why caskets? Why not cabinets, why not tables, why would a fella choose to spend his life building the last box a person will ever need? I don’t have a clean answer. I just know it started with my grandmother in 1997, and it turns out it started a lot earlier than that — my great-grandfather was doing this back in 1927, long before I ever picked up a chisel.

Somewhere along the way, the newspapers started calling. The Toronto Star. The Dallas Morning News. Ripley’s Believe It or Not, of all things — because apparently a carpenter who builds coffins for a living is considered unbelievable. Fair enough. Some days I don’t believe it either.

This trade has taught me more about living than it ever has about dying. That’s the part I’m trying to get down on paper for “Memoirs of a Coffinbuilder, Part Two.” Figured I’d start sharing some of the story here too.