Heather Harris

The fault of this website is that it only documents the last 10 years of my life. The entire awkward phase of youth, middle and high school is totally not represented, as is the equally awkward phase of college and post college.

I used to think this gap in documentation was awesome. We didn’t have cell phones to capture these phases, just notes and film. Current me would love to have more artifacts from these formative years, no matter how awkward.

Luckily, Heather Harris has a wicked memory.

We met in 7th grade and something clicked—much to the chagrin of all the boys. Heather saw me for who I was, and the feeling was copacetic. We became the best of friends.

The kind of friends that call each other and stay on the line for hours, sometimes in silence—every once in a while asking for another word or to run by a sentence or idea. (I like to think this is what young folks on Discord are doing these days and that we were not entirely crazy.)

Fast forward to post-college, Heather and I started a web design company in 1996 when absolutely no one (including businesses) knew or cared what a website was all about.

Yada yada yada, we did well and took on a ton of work, growing to a team of a dozen folks. We were young and ambitious—trying our best to keep a balance between life and work. We made space for fun, but we also worked hard.

And then 9/11 happened.

Companies retracted their website budgets and we were left to consider what was next…

We decided to turn off the lights and I’m fairly certain of a few things: First? We had a good company that nurtured each person and made work enjoyable. And second? We got out at the right time. The economy would take a while to recover and honestly, it’s good to shake things up and try new things.

Heather went on to her best job title yet—being a mom to a whip smart young man.

I went on to wear a bunch of different hats.

And we’ve stayed in touch the entire time.

Whenever I watch Beaches I think, that’s me and Heather there. Playing cards while the surf laps up the evening sun.

And I know that if I need someone on the line? Heather will be there for me, and vice-versa.

That’s how we are.