The earliest memory I have of truly falling in love with construction goes back to our family farm in Carlos, Minnesota. It was sparked by a devastating event: a tornado that tore through the small town of Miltona. The date was July 18, 1970, a Saturday evening, 7:02 p.m. I was just ten years old, standing with my father on a pile of ashes—the remnants of our barn, which had burned down the night before. As the fire siren wailed, we watched the tornado’s funnel shift from a mesmerizing white to a menacing black in mere seconds. Despite the chaos, my father remained calm, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He began to share his vision for rebuilding the barn, describing a sturdy, beautiful structure that would rise from the ashes. His dream captivated me, and when the barn was eventually rebuilt, it was every bit as magnificent as he’d promised. We expanded our dairy herd from seven cows to eighty of the finest Holsteins in the area, milking them in that very barn.
After the tornado passed, our family piled into the pickup truck and drove to Miltona to offer help. My father, always resourceful, had one of the first phones installed in his truck—a rarity back then. He used it to call for assistance as we navigated the wreckage. The town was a mess, but a crew arrived soon after to begin rebuilding. Watching them work, I was mesmerized by the process, the way raw materials became something solid and lasting. It was a pivotal moment for me, igniting a passion for construction.
Two years later, tragedy struck again. On December 7, 1972, at 12:15 a.m., our family’s historic farmhouse burned to the ground. My father and I had spent the past year painstakingly remodeling it, and that very night, we’d finished installing the doorknobs on his bedroom door. Once again, my father didn’t falter. As we stood amidst the ruins, he painted a picture of the new home he’d build—a place even better than before. His resilience and vision inspired me, and that moment marked the true beginning of my construction career.
After rebuilding our home on that 168-acre farm, life took us in a new direction. My brothers had gone off to college, my sister joined the Marines, and my parents decided to move. We packed up and left Carlos, Minnesota, intending to settle in Moses Lake, Oregon. But on the way, we stopped in my father’s hometown of Wessington, South Dakota. What was meant to be a brief visit turned into something more. We parked our fifth-wheel camper trailer next to an old, two-story building on Main Street, making it our temporary home for the summer. My father, ever the dreamer, saw potential in that dilapidated structure. At first, he thought it could serve as a warehouse for his trucking business, storing goods between the West Coast and Midwest. But one evening, as we sat inside the empty building, his imagination took over.
I knew that look in his eyes—here we go again. He poured himself and his friend Roger Seargent a glass of whiskey and began to dream out loud. The next night, more of his friends joined us, and the ideas grew bolder. Out of nowhere, my father declared, “We’re going to build a Supper Club and Bar!” That was the birth of The Fireside Supper Club. Throughout my junior year at Wessington High School, I juggled football, basketball, track, and the design and construction of the town’s newest business. To top it off, I even became the cook! Those early days, filled with the scent of freshly cut wood and the hum of skill saws, remain some of my fondest memories. The rhythm of construction felt like home.
After high school, I joined the U.S. Army as an Architectural Draftsman and headed to boot camp at Fort Dix, New Jersey. My real education in construction and construction management came during my service. I served as an engineer construction supervisor and architectural draftsman at Fort Hunter Liggett, an experimental base in California. There, I worked on significant projects, including designing the test track for the Humvee and M1A1 Abrams Tank. I also contributed to projects that led to the approval and manufacture of the Hellfire Missile, Blackhawk helicopter, and Bradley Fighting Vehicle. As the NCOIC of the Battalion Color Guard, I took pride in representing my unit. In 1983, I received an honorable discharge and left the Army with skills that would shape my future.
Returning to Rapid City, South Dakota, I reunited with my father, and we became partners in Prentice Real Estate and Builders Ltd. Those years, working side by side with him, were some of the best of my life. Together, we built not just structures, but a legacy of dreaming big and bringing those dreams to life.
To be continued…