Why I Started Stone Ridge Coffee Company

Stone Ridge Coffee isn’t just about me—it's about you, too.

I want to help anyone and everyone out there who’s grinding just like I am.
Whether you lace up boots or heels…
Whether you work first shift or third shift…
Whether you're starting your day or pushing through the final stretch…

I want you to have the fuel you need to keep going.

At Stone Ridge Coffee, we fuel the fearless—the workers, the dreamers, the parents, the hustlers, the ones who show up even when it’s hard.

That’s why I started this company.

I want your family to enjoy great coffee the same way mine has for generations—whether it’s one of our delicious, flavored coffees, a bold blend, or a premium single-origin roast. I want every cup to become a moment you look forward to. A moment of comfort. A moment of connection.

Because coffee is more than caffeine.
It’s fuel.
It’s grounding.
It’s community.
It’s a story—and now, I hope it becomes part of yours too.

Coffee has always been more than a drink to me—it's a part of my life, my memories, and my family’s story. But my journey to creating a coffee company didn’t begin with a steaming mug. It started with something far less comforting.

For years, I lived off energy drinks. I didn’t care what was in them—young, tired, and always grinding, I just needed to keep going. Two or three cans a day became normal, even though the chemicals, the crash, and the way they made me feel were tearing me down more than lifting me up.

After serving 10+ years in the Army and now serving as a police officer, the long days and unpredictable nights never stopped. I needed something to get me going—whether it was at the start of my shift, the middle of a long night, or the very end when fatigue hits the hardest. Energy drinks weren’t cutting it anymore, and my body was done paying the price.

That’s when I switched to coffee.

Coffee had been quietly present in my life long before I understood its importance. It was woven into the rhythm of my family:

My father drank it on the job site while framing homes.
My mother sipped it at her desk as she solved the world’s problems in her own way.
My older brother drank it during his own service.
My younger brother drank it while welding metal for the auto industry.
My sister drank it through long shifts in the factory.
My grandfather drank it on the porch, telling stories from the old days.
My grandmother drank it while complaining about him—in that loving way only she could.

And my wife is from Bogotá, Colombia. That’s probably where I get my bias for great Colombian coffee—and she’s also the one who handles our ordering.

Every cup held a memory. Every sip was a moment of connection. Coffee wasn’t just a drink—it was our family’s fuel, present at every gathering, every celebration, and every early morning start.

So, when I gave up energy drinks and turned to coffee, it felt like coming home.