How The Big Bearded Ginger Began

In 2018, Marc Bradburry attended an industry event in Indianapolis to give a technical talk. As he mingled with attendees nationwide, many recognized him as the “big bearded guy from Texas” rather than by name. Though flattered his work stood out, Marc wished his name stuck too.

Embracing this nickname, Marc introduced himself uniquely during his presentation. “Hello everyone, thanks for coming,” he said. “I’m Marc Bradburry, but since that’s hard to recall, just call me The Big Bearded Ginger.” Laughter followed, and from then on, the persona became central to his identity.

Marc’s path to this moment was his own. Once brimming with youthful arrogance, he thought he knew everything. Life taught him otherwise through tough lessons. Over time, he gained humility and a love for learning, shaping him into someone who could blend humor with self awareness on stage.

My Journey: A Reflection

Leaving the Army and Early Struggles

After leaving the army in 2008, I worked as a hazardous waste technician in Hawaii. The job was thrilling. Every day was an adventure. Yet, the pay couldn’t sustain a decent life there. Soon, I moved to Texarkana for a role at Waste Management Upstream near my in laws, easing my shift to civilian life.

Taking a union job proved brutal at first. Colleagues made it tough, and I juggled two roles: mine and the supervisor’s. Feeling underappreciated, I demanded a promotion. A wiser colleague said I wasn’t ready. Stubbornly, I gave an ultimatum: promote me or I’d quit. They didn’t budge, so I left for car sales.

Charismatic and tie loving, I excelled at sales. But the 2009 economic crash dried up business. My family lost everything soon after. We slept at an Arkansas rest stop, sold our possessions, and bought a rundown mobile home near a paper mill. Jobless, I walked to Walmart and McDonald’s, only to hear I was “overqualified.”

Rock Bottom and Recovery

Hunger set in, and I begged neighbors for food: rice or eggs for my son. We lived without power, hauling stream water for bathing and cooking. A workforce center offered help: electricity for 40 hours of maintenance work at the courthouse. Later, a VA advocate linked me to a community college.

At college, I janitored part time, enrolled in classes, and earned a Class A CDL. That landed me a concrete truck driving gig at a ready mix company. It was a turning point. I rebuilt our lives, balancing two jobs while my wife carried our third child.

During a concrete job, my wife went into early labor. Dispatch radioed me to take the truck to the hospital. I parked it there. Steel toe boots echoed as I ran inside. She broke ribs during an emergency C section and stayed hospitalized. Our son spent a month in the NICU. Friends watched our older kids, and both jobs supported me through it.

A New Start in Bowie, Texas

Post NICU, we left our crumbling home for Bowie, Texas, 240 miles away near a friend. With no equity, we used a tax return to rent a trailer. I slept on a friend’s couch, driving 4 hours each weekend to see my family while job hunting. Interviews with CDL firms flopped. Shady trucks and rude managers turned me off. Eventually, a Ready Mix job stuck.

We bought a fixer upper home in Bowie. High utilities and unsteady hours strained us, though. While paying for a rent to own fridge, I mentioned my woes. They offered me a job after a Wonderlic test. Rent to own became my proving ground. I rose fast in sales, collections, and profit making.

Chasing Success and Losing Balance

Work consumed me. I chased a six figure salary, jumping companies to be the best. Everyone knew me. I worked anywhere I wanted. But my family suffered. I missed my youngest’s first steps and nearly a year of my fourth child’s life. My marriage faltered. Then, a bleeding ulcer landed me in the hospital.

From a hospital bed, I micromanaged my store for 5 days. The doctor threatened to stitch my thumbs to stop me. “Why have employees if you can’t trust them?” he asked. That hit later. I resigned with a 90 day notice, prioritizing family over money. It was a concept my bosses couldn’t grasp.

Finding Purpose in Leadership

A plastic pipe plant job felt like a break. There were no quotas, just work. I made lead fast and focused on safety. But a coworker’s recklessness injured my hand, and management shrugged it off. Frustrated, I quit. Next, I joined an industrial supplier, reviving struggling quarry accounts with strategy and care.

In 2016, I saw a brick plant under construction. “I’ll work there,” I told my wife. A friend’s contact got me an interview, and I started. My past with mining, extruders, and maintenance clicked into place. German contractors taught me robotics and PLCs. I became packaging supervisor, empowering my team to excel.

Growth, Innovation, and a New Path

Promoted to improve the whole plant, I struggled at first. Pushing change alone failed. Books like Simon Sinek’s Start With Why shifted my approach. I connected with people, led by example, and prioritized safety after an injury woke us up. We went 2 years accident free.

Then came 3D printing, solving part shortages and safety risks. My innovations drew global attention. I spoke nationwide, crediting the brick plant. Eventually, I launched my own company, aiding industries with designs and training. In time, I left to focus on it full time.

Now, after years of solo impact, I crave teamwork again: growing people, driving change daily. I’m seeking a team to join for the long haul. Curious? Contact me or explore my blog.