You're here for the name drop, right? The big flex.
I won't bury the lead. Over the years, I've been fortunate enough to be around some pretty recognizable names:
Bob Ross (and shame on you if you had to Google him)
David Letterman
Katsuaki Watanabe
To be clear, I wasn't the one conducting those interviews. I was part of the production crew. But being there, watching everything happen behind the scenes, was incredible.
These were big productions. The best equipment. The most talented professionals. Massive sets. Teams of people operating at the highest level.
There's something special about being around people who are masters of their craft. I'm sure you've experienced it in your own profession. You learn simply by standing next to talented people and watching how they work.
But when I think about the interviews and productions that left the biggest impact on me, two experiences stand out; and neither has much to do with celebrity.
The first was working with Jimmy Houston.
If you're not familiar with Jimmy, he's a legendary professional fisherman whose television show ran on NBC for more than two decades. I had the opportunity to visit his ranch and help produce a series of commercials with him.
First, Jimmy and his wife are two of the nicest people you'll ever meet.
Instead of putting the crew in hotels, they opened their home to us. They fed us; and when I say fed us, I mean FED us. The production meeting at 6 p.m. felt like Thanksgiving dinner. Crew call at 4 a.m.? Another full spread waiting for us.
Jimmy was also a complete professional when it came to content creation. He came prepared with ideas, schedules, and practical solutions that made every shoot run smoother.
One example stands out.
When we went out on the boat, everyone got to fish. At first, I thought it was simply because Jimmy wanted us to enjoy the experience. And part of that was true.
But there was another reason.
We were stocking the boat with fish that could be used as props throughout the shoot. Every fish we caught helped create opportunities for better footage and more production flexibility. (And yes, every fish was released afterward.)
At one point during the shoot, Barry Switzer called him. Jimmy put the call on speakerphone and introduced me.
Now look, I'm a nobody.
But Jimmy didn't see it that way.
Here's a guy who was a legend in his industry, and yet he treated every person around him with kindness and respect. He didn't act like he was more important than anyone else on set.
That stuck with me.
His professionalism impressed me, but his humility taught me something far more valuable.
The second experience changed me in ways I never expected.
During the pandemic, I worked on a fundraising program for the YWCA.
Like many organizations at the time, they had to cancel their annual in-person banquet and move the event online. They wanted it to feel like a live broadcast but didn't want the risks that come with an actual livestream.
Their first question was simple: "Can we make it feel live without actually being live?"
The answer was yes.
We filmed everything as though it were happening in real time, built the program to mirror a live event, and promoted it accordingly. The audience experienced a seamless broadcast, but everything had been carefully produced in advance. (For the record, this happens a lot more often than people realize.)
This project was especially meaningful because it came during my early days of self-employment. A friend had recommended me for the job—huge thanks to Tim—and it was one of the first major pitches I made on my own.
As part of the program, we interviewed several clients whose lives had been changed through the YWCA.
If you're unfamiliar with the organization, their work is remarkable.
They provide safe housing for women facing homelessness, domestic violence, and other difficult circumstances. More importantly, they provide support, counseling, education, and resources that help people rebuild their lives.
One interview in particular has never left me.
The woman we interviewed was incredibly open about the circumstances that led her to the YWCA. She shared stories of homelessness and an abusive relationship. What struck me most was how completely her experiences shattered every stereotype I thought I understood about homelessness.
I left that interview shaken. Not because the story was sensational. Because it was real. It forced me to see people differently. Even editing the piece afterward was difficult. Every time I reviewed the footage, I was reminded of what she had endured and how close many people live to circumstances most of us never imagine.
That's why I love what I do.
"Fortunate" isn't a strong enough word for the stories I've been trusted to tell. I've written before about how seriously I take that responsibility. When clients invite me into their world, they aren't just hiring someone to create content. They're trusting me with their mission, their experiences, and often their most personal stories.
Sometimes that means helping a business tell customers what they do.
Sometimes it means helping an organization raise support for a cause.
And sometimes it means sitting across from someone whose story changes the way you see the world.
Those are the moments I remember.
Not the celebrities.
Not the equipment.
Not the productions.
The people.
The people who love what they do. The people overcoming impossible circumstances. The people making a difference every day. Being around them makes me better at my job. More importantly, it makes me a better human being.
And that's something I'll never forget.