Hey, I’m Chris.

I’m from Queens grew up with the noise and the crowds. These days I’m out on Long Island, somewhere quieter.

About ten years ago, I got a call from family about my grandma. She was buried down in Charlotte, North Carolina. They told me the cemetery had been sold, and they built houses right on top of it. No warning. No phone call. Her spot was just gone.

I used to go there to sit with her. Talk to her. Remember her big hugs and those Sunday pies. Now there’s nothing there but driveways and mailboxes.

I flew down once, hoping I’d find something familiar. I came home with nothing but this empty feeling, like I’d lost her all over again. It messed me up for days. I couldn’t understand how something like that could even happen.

That kind of pain doesn’t leave you. It changes you.

I decided if her place was gone for good, I wasn’t going to let it happen to anyone else. So I grabbed some supplies and started going to cemeteries on my own. I’d kneel down, wipe away the dirt and moss, and watch the names and dates come back into view.

It was simple. But every time, it felt like I was fighting back a little.

If I don’t do it, who will?

These headstones aren’t just old rocks. They’re the last place we get to feel close to someone. The last place to say what we didn’t get to say.

That’s how The Headstone Guy started. I turned it into something I could do for other families. I use eco-friendly products and nothing that harms the stone. “Do No Harm” is my rule.

Whether it’s a simple clean or a full restoration, my job is to take the weight off your shoulders so you can just remember the good parts.

Your family’s spot matters. It’s where the love still lives.

Give me a call or a message. I’m here.

— Chris