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When your son calls about a new venture, you listen. When he tells you it’s the first opportunity he’s ever considered “calling home” after years of evaluating startups, you pay very close attention.

This was Paul Savage’s introduction to Monolith.

“I wasn’t familiar at all with ICF,” Paul admits, recalling his first conversation about Insulated Concrete Forms. “But my son Jeff is one of the founders of Monolith, and he and I have been doing some consulting projects together over the last few years.”

As a management consultant with 20 years of experience and a keen eye for business potential, Paul has developed a sixth sense for distinguishing game-changing innovations from mere incremental improvements. When Jeff explained the polyurethane ICF technology that Monolith was developing, Paul’s professional curiosity was piqued.

“Jeff has introduced me to interesting companies before,” Paul explains, “but this was the first one where he said, ‘Whoa, this one legitimately could be a place I could call home.’ When he explained it that way, my ears perked up because he had never talked like that about any other venture he’d been presented with.”

To satisfy his analytical mind, Paul began a methodical investigation, talking to people throughout the construction industry—builders, framers, and commercial construction companies—about their experiences with traditional building methods and the challenges they faced.

“I just became fascinated with the concept of ICF, especially the polyurethane,” he says. “The more I learned, the more excited I got when I realized what an incredible innovation the polyurethane ICF would be in terms of speed of construction, quality, and disaster-proofness.”

For Paul, the real-world applications were immediately clear, stemming from personal connections to vulnerable areas. “I have family who lives in Florida, and they have to board up at least a couple of times a year because of hurricanes. I also have family in California, where many areas were devastated by wildfires. All of the destruction from these hurricanes and wildfires would mostly—if not entirely—have been eliminated or mitigated if they were using polyurethane ICF.”

As Paul expanded his research, he tapped into his professional network, connecting with high-level construction development teams, including one building a stadium and new downtown area west of Salt Lake. Their enthusiasm further validated his growing conviction about Monolith’s potential.

“The idea of buildings that are soundproof, walls that would reduce the need for air conditioning equipment by 50 to 75%—these are all things that really excite people,” Paul notes. “My wife’s also in the construction industry, so we’ve talked to several home builders who are super excited about using ICF, especially with higher-income clients who would love to pay a little extra for construction, knowing that having polyurethane ICF would allow their cost of ownership ultimately to be much, much less.”

His current role as an operations leader with Quick Quack Car Wash—a growing chain with around 260 locations—gave Paul yet another perspective on Monolith’s potential applications. “They build in some cold weather locations and are looking for options to allow the car washes to operate at colder temperatures than most car washes can,” he explains.

What surprised Paul most was how Monolith addresses the very barriers that have limited ICF adoption in the past. “Almost all the reasons that people list for not adopting ICF are addressed by the Monolith ICF,” he observes. “It really is a better product— less likely to have blowouts, more rigid, provides a vapor barrier, fire resistant, and the insulation values are higher.”

Even more telling was the reaction from people already using traditional ICF products. “There’s a lot of clients that Kirk works with that already use ICF and really like it, but when they heard about Monolith, they were like, ‘Oh, wow. As soon as you can get this into production, we absolutely will buy it.’ They can tell it’s even better.”

Paul’s experience evaluating early-stage companies has taught him to look for fatal flaws—the often-overlooked weaknesses that doom otherwise promising ventures. “I’ve had the privilege of working with a lot of early-stage companies. Unfortunately, a handful of them failed, and there was always some fatal flaw. I’ve gotten much better at diagnosing those things.”

What sets Monolith apart, in Paul’s assessment, is the absence of those fatal flaws. “This one has felt very different right from the start. The more I’ve learned, the more I felt like I could really help out here because this is legitimate. We had all the right expertise in-house, plus access to the right expertise from suppliers, giving me very high confidence that this is a company I could help and that I’d like to be a part of.”

Perhaps the most powerful testimony to Monolith’s potential is reflected in Jeff’s fundraising success—a point of particular pride for Paul. “It says a lot that Jeff was able to raise $2.5 million dollars on an idea, with no plant, no product. But the idea itself resonated so well with people that he was able to raise that money. That’s a huge indication that there’s a very big untapped market for a disruptive technology like this.”

For Paul Savage, Monolith represents an opportunity to apply decades of business expertise to a genuinely transformative technology—one that his son believed in enough to “call home.” Every conversation, every industry contact, every analysis has only deepened his conviction that Monolith isn’t just another venture, but a fundamental rethinking of how we build our world.

“I’m just super excited to see where it goes,” Paul says, “and to see if there’s a way that I can help them meet their goals.”

Some journeys to Monolith began with industry expertise or technical knowledge. Greg Michie’s began with friendship.

“Mine goes way back to when Ben Snuffer and I used to be college roommates,” Greg explains, smiling at the memory. “Ben was maybe 19 or 20 at that time. We moved around to a couple of houses, remained friends and roommates, and I actually got him his first construction job, doing electrical work.”

Their college days painted an early picture of Ben that would prove prophetic for Monolith’s future. “Ben was a young sprite, curious about a lot of things,” Greg recalls with a chuckle. “He wasn’t the greatest electrician—had to train that guy a bunch.”

Life eventually took them in different directions. Greg stayed in St. George, got married, and raised a family. Ben moved north, got married, and worked in the oil industry, transporting water for drilling rigs. Despite the distance, their friendship endured through regular calls to catch up on each other’s lives.

Over the following 18 years, Greg had a front-row seat to Ben’s evolution as a builder and his growing obsession with efficiency and sustainability.

“Ben got himself into construction and became super curious about building the most efficient home he could possibly build,” Greg explains. “He had some property out in Tabiona, and that was the plan—to discover all these different building techniques and materials and build some crazy home that he could live in forever and hardly pay anything to survive out there.”

During these years, Greg became Ben’s sounding board for a parade of building materials and methods. “Ben would tell me as he discovered this or that, ‘I think this is going to be the best material for my home.’ I remember a conversation about three or four years ago when he started this journey on ICF—we talked for a couple of hours, and he introduced me to ICF as a building process.”

At the time, Greg didn’t fully grasp what Insulated Concrete Forms were, but listened supportively as Ben described his quest to track down a particular polyurethane ICF product and the man who had developed it. When Ben finally connected with Kirk and they decided to bring the Monolith block to market, Greg remained a supportive friend, albeit still not fully invested in the concept.

“As a good friend of Ben’s, I’ve always told him I’d support whatever he did. If he ever needed any help with my skill set, I’m more than happy to jump on board,” Greg says.

That moment came in early 2023, when Ben and Kirk asked Greg if he wanted to join Monolith to help promote sales. “Even at this point, I was still very uneducated about ICF,” Greg admits. “But I jumped on board with them.”

The turning point in Greg’s understanding and commitment came during a pivotal industry event—the World of Concrete expo in Las Vegas.

“That was eye-opening on so many levels,” Greg says, his voice gaining energy. “We were able to meet with all the major manufacturers of ICF, touch and visually see their products, and have in-depth conversations about what we’re up against, why ICF isn’t as popular as it should be, why it’s not better represented.”

The expo allowed Greg to directly compare standard polystyrene ICF products with Monolith’s polyurethane innovation, cementing his belief in their competitive advantage.

“It was huge for me just to see the industry and the frustrations they were having, and the gaps that we could fill,” he explains. “I think I left the World of Concrete ten times more excited than I had been over the previous year. I believe we’re at a pinnacle moment to introduce this to the construction world.”

For Greg, what began as a favor to an old friend has evolved into a mission he’s fully embraced. His journey from curious observer to passionate advocate mirrors the story he sees playing out in the wider market—initial skepticism giving way to enthusiasm as people truly understand what Monolith offers.

“The more I learn about this and the closer we get to sharing it with builders, the more excited I’ve gotten,” Greg says. “I’ve reached an excitement level where I can’t wait to stop doing what I’m currently doing and just do this full-time.”

What resonates most with Greg isn’t just the technical superiority of Monolith’s product, but the company’s vision and values.

“I love the culture and core values that Monolith brings to the table—it’s not just another greedy corporate mindset. They really want to make a name and support and provide well for those involved with them,” he notes. “It’s not just a standard ‘build better’ mindset. It’s really about protecting what you love—your family, your possessions, your property. The vision is unparalleled to anything else I’ve been a part of.”

From college roommate to company advocate, Greg’s journey with Monolith is a testament to the power of enduring friendship and shared vision. As he puts it with simple conviction: “I love the mindset of ‘protect what you love’—and I’m just excited to be a part of this.”

Dustin Jensen’s path to Monolith began with a desire to find meaningful projects for Puerto Rico—and ended with him falling in love with a building technology he initially viewed with skepticism.

“I was introduced to Monolith, which was originally Bluebox, probably just about a year ago,” Dustin explains. “I was discussing potential projects in Puerto Rico with someone I had worked with on other ventures. I mentioned that I really wanted to find projects we could take to the island that would be productive, beneficial, and could grow into small businesses people could invest in.”

That’s when his colleague introduced him to the concept of ICF (Insulated Concrete Forms) blocks. For Dustin, with his marketing background, the first impression was intuitive rather than technical.

“What resonated with me immediately was the way it stacked like Lego blocks,” he recalls with a smile. “I mean, obviously that makes a lot of sense, right? Just stack it up like Lego and dump the cement in.”

But professional habits run deep, and Dustin’s marketing instincts kicked in immediately. He began researching the market, examining web search volume and industry websites to gauge awareness and interest. What he discovered was perplexing.

“As practical and logical as this product seemed to be, I was fascinated by the low volume of search volume online and the overall lack of awareness. A red flag went off—what’s wrong with this product? Why is there such a low adoption rate? It just doesn’t make sense.”

This paradox intrigued him enough to begin engaging with the company, but he admits his initial reaction was far from love at first sight.

“I was a little skeptical,” Dustin confesses. “Did I think there was a strong market fit? Not immediately.”

As time went on and Blue Blocks evolved into Monolith, Dustin’s interest gradually grew. He began to understand the significance of Monolith’s polyurethane material versus the industry-standard polystyrene, discovering its superior strength and R-value. Yet the fundamental question about market awareness remained unanswered.

Dustin compares his evolving relationship with Monolith to an unexpected romance: “It’s like meeting someone in town who wasn’t your initial pick, for whatever reason. But as you spend time with them, you realize more and more, ‘Wow, this person is actually pretty special. They’re the perfect fit for me.’ Your infatuation grows over time rather than diminishing.”

His first personal connection to the company came through Jeff Savage, one of Monolith’s founders who had raised the initial funding. Through conversations with Jeff, Dustin shared insights on the marketing challenges and potential solutions.

“The breakthrough moment came when I connected with Ben,” Dustin recalls. “Ben told me his story about searching for the perfect building material, and at that point, it really made me realize this is an amazing product. We really have to figure out how to make people aware of it.”

Through these conversations, Dustin found himself slowly integrating with the team, meeting Jason, Neil, and eventually Kirk, the original inventor. His appreciation for the product grew alongside his respect for the team behind it.

“At this point, I would say I absolutely believe in the team just as much as I do the product,” Dustin affirms. “The story comes from people who really saw a problem and are creating a solution in the marketplace. The experience to do that is quite robust.”

For Dustin, the marketing challenge remains clear: ICF needs greater awareness, not just education.

“Everyone answers this by saying education is the solution, but education is not the solution,” he asserts. “The ICF industry as a whole has had many years to educate people, and it hasn’t helped them get over the hump. Basically, we just need to make ICF more sexy, make it more interesting, and find a way to drive awareness.”

Now fully convinced of Monolith’s potential, Dustin’s initial skepticism has transformed into unwavering belief.

“I am just absolutely infatuated with the product and ready to find a way to gain that awareness,” he declares. “I know once there’s more awareness about this product, especially Monolith ICF given the polyurethane aspect, the adoption is going to go through the roof.”

Dustin’s journey from curious skeptic to passionate advocate mirrors the very marketing challenge he’s committed to solving—converting initial curiosity into deep conviction through authentic storytelling and strategic awareness-building. For him, both the product and the team behind it represent something truly special in the construction industry—a genuine innovation with the potential to transform how we build our world.

“I believe this is going to change the way communities are built,” Dustin says simply. “The journey continues.”

Neil Ward’s path to Monolith began in an unlikely place: the world of dental education, where precision and materials science meet human expertise.

“I was running a dental education company for a while,” Neil explains with characteristic modesty. “We did hands-on virtual dental surgical education, creating jaw bone models and sending participants implant kits.”

This wasn’t just any educational program. Neil’s company had pioneered something remarkable—polyurethane bone models with two different densities that accurately matched the properties of human bone, complete with realistic soft tissue simulation. It was the kind of innovation that required deep understanding of materials, manufacturing processes, and practical application.

“I had done a lot of research and work with polyurethane specifically for that product, but also for previous products I had developed,” Neil says. His background as a professor before entering dental surgical education had given him the perfect foundation for this specialized work.

As Neil’s path began to intersect with Monolith’s, it was Jason Myers who recognized the potential connection. Jason and Neil had met in their hometown and were working on another project together, spending time at Neil’s house a couple of times a week.

“I was going over to his house and we were working on that project together,” Jason recounts. “One night, I got a call from Ben about a downside situation we were experiencing with our engineer. The next day, I mentioned it to Neil while we were sitting on his back porch having a beer.”

That casual conversation would prove transformative for Monolith. Neil revealed something Jason hadn’t known—he had extensive experience with polyurethane manufacturing through his work with dental implant training kits.

The timing couldn’t have been more critical. Monolith was at a crossroads with their engineering partner. The relationship had deteriorated to such a point that communication had broken down entirely, with the engineering team refusing to allow certain team members into their shop or on calls. This created an existential threat to the entire venture – without engineering expertise, there could be no mold, no production, and ultimately, no business.

“I wonder if we could get Neil to come on board and help us sort out this problem,” Jason thought. “Trial basis, see if it works, and then we’ll go from there because we need someone to help us get this engineering and research and development over the line.”

Neil, intrigued by the challenge and already familiar with polyurethane’s remarkable properties, agreed to step in. What happened next, according to Jason, was nothing short of transformational.

“He genuinely saved the business,” Jason states unequivocally. “He rebuilt the relationship with the engineers, and then when they had an insolvency issue, he led us through that, which was extremely rocky because we had to take on unexpected financial commitments.”

What made Neil so effective wasn’t just his technical knowledge, but his emotional intelligence.

“He gets how to communicate with people,” Jason explains. “He’s strong when he needs to be strong, gentle most of the time. He’s very emotionally intelligent—his wife’s a therapist, which helps—but he himself is just self-aware and aware of how to manage dynamics in a helpful way.”

For Neil, the decision to join Monolith wasn’t just about applying his expertise in polyurethane. It was about recognizing a superior building technology that aligned with his values and vision.

“When I started looking at the block, initially I wasn’t all that surprised because it seems like that’s the way ICF should have been made to begin with,” Neil reflects. “I’ve done a lot of work with polystyrene before, expanded polystyrene, and it’s really, really difficult to work with. It’s very reactive to a lot of chemicals, paints, glues. It’s just not a great building material at all.”

Neil’s experience gave him a unique perspective on why polyurethane represented such a significant improvement.

“The space shuttle Challenger used polyurethane foam to protect it against the elements,” he points out. “The company we’re using has been producing foam for NASA since 1980. The properties of polyurethane foam have been known very well for a long, long time.”

This raises an obvious question: if polyurethane is so superior, why hasn’t the industry already embraced it?

“Polystyrene is a cheaper material,” Neil explains. “It’s not safe, it’s not a good building material, but it’s what people have used. I think that’s just the cost.”

He draws a parallel to another industry disruption: “When Yeti came on the market about 15 years ago, their differentiating product was using rotational molding instead of blow molding for coolers, creating a stronger shell, and using polyurethane as the insulated material instead of polystyrene that all the other cheap coolers were using.”

For Neil, the future of Monolith is exceptionally bright. The polyurethane molding process is simpler than polystyrene, though the material itself is more challenging to work with. Once those challenges are mastered, Neil sees enormous opportunities for distributed manufacturing centers that will reduce shipping costs, fuel consumption, and emissions.

“Being closer to your end goal is clearly how Amazon made a killing by having distributed warehouses,” Neil observes. “This manufacturing process demands and actually allows that because the manufacturing process is a lot less expensive, although the materials are more expensive.”

Beyond the business advantages, Neil sees Monolith addressing fundamental issues in housing and construction.

“A lot of the natural disasters and other needs that people have in building homes are demanding higher quality materials,” he notes. “We’ve been building the same way for hundreds of years, and the older homes are deteriorating at a rate that makes it almost cheaper to build a new home and live in it for 10 years than to buy an older home and live in it for 10 years.”

With ICF, and particularly with Monolith’s polyurethane innovation, Neil believes we can change the longevity and value of homes for the long term.

“I think the future is really, really bright for polyurethane,” he concludes. “It’s becoming more ubiquitous in a lot of areas. Its insulative properties are very well known—the only coolers you buy have polyurethane in them because they’re the best. Same thing with homes. It’s going to be more expensive because the materials are just higher performing, but I think we can absolutely deliver more value than cheaper materials.”

For Neil, joining Monolith wasn’t just about applying his expertise to a new challenge—it was about helping to create a product that solves real problems for people, even problems they didn’t know they needed to solve.

“I’m looking forward to helping deliver a product and a company that will solve problems for people,” Neil says with quiet conviction. “When they build a home with this, they’ll realize, ‘Wow, this is actually much better than I expected.’ That’s a hope—I think we can help tons of people, and that’s an exciting prospect from a human point of view.”

Jason Myers’ journey to Monolith begins not with buildings, but with a father who wanted to work for himself.

“My story begins with an entrepreneurial father,” Jason says, leaning forward. “After just two years working for someone else, my dad said, ‘I’m not doing this.’ He started his own business and backed himself.”

His father’s entrepreneurial spirit cast a long shadow. Whether it was his main hydraulics and industrial equipment repair business, side ventures in ozone machines, energy release technologies, or real estate investments, Jason’s father embodied the Robert Kiyosaki mindset of generating multiple income streams and creating financial freedom.

“He did well during Desert Storm on his forklift rental business because he had a truck phone and answered it on Saturday morning,” Jason recalls with a laugh. “The US army could not reach anyone else except him at that time. So he rented every single forklift around and sent them to Kuwait for multiple years. That’s who raised me—that shaped my thinking.”

Despite this entrepreneurial upbringing, Jason initially took a more conventional path. He earned his MBA and went into institutional real estate, steadily climbing the corporate ladder until he was running European operations for the largest professional investor in healthcare real estate worldwide.

“We weren’t just collecting rent checks,” Jason explains. “We were investing debt and equity, managing joint ventures, and developing more seniors housing assets in the UK.”

The position gave Jason unprecedented exposure to operational real estate—a hybrid of property investment and private equity that required deeper involvement in marketing, sales, staffing, care quality, and compliance.

“Every single one of those elements alone could impair the whole business and the value of the real estate,” he notes.

This high-profile role demanded a lot from Jason—long work weeks, constant availability, and regularly working through vacations, nights, and weekends. After over a decade of this schedule, he was approaching burnout.

“I was running into a mental health buzzsaw,” Jason admits. “And living in Europe for eight years, my key relationships in the US—my parents, grandparents, siblings, nieces, and nephews—were not in the place that I wanted them to be for the second half of my life.”

This realization, coupled with the fact that he and his wife couldn’t have children, led to a decision: it was time to step off the corporate treadmill. They embarked on a year-long sabbatical, traveling to see friends and family, reading extensively, and interviewing people on how to live a meaningful life.

“As I was interviewing people and considering what I wanted the second half of my life to look like, a theme emerged—entrepreneurship in some form,” Jason says. “I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps by using my capital and expertise to support small to medium-sized businesses or startups.”

During this period of reflection, Jason met Jeff Savage, and the two began exploring various opportunities together. They were considering either buying a small business or providing advisory services to startups when Jeff introduced Jason to an intriguing opportunity—a new insulated concrete form technology that Ben Snuffer and Kirk Tyler were trying to launch.

“I did due diligence on the company, their skill set, the technology—all the normal stuff you’d examine for an investment,” Jason explains. “What I discovered was that they had nothing except Kirk’s prototype mold and six months of conversations between themselves. They had no budget, no plans, no go-to-market strategy. Just a Google Drive with a few files and a dream.”

Despite this lack of substance, Kirk’s credibility in the industry and Ben’s ability to sell the opportunity intrigued Jason.

Initially Jeff and Jason began an advisory relationship with Ben and Kirk but the conversation quickly evolved into a partnership discussion. Jason, Jeff, Ben, and Kirk decided to raise the capital and launch the business as co-founders.

“For me, it wasn’t about the block itself, though having an intrinsically interest in the product mattered,” Jason emphasizes. “It was about tackling the challenge of launching a business with people who shared my values and complemented my skills.”

And there were definitely early challenges. When an engineering relationship became strained and Kirk’s capacity was stretched with his full-time job, Jason reached out to Neil Ward, whom he had met through another project and asked if he would be interested in joining to lead the technical aspects of the business.

“Neil really turned things around technically,” Jason states unequivocally. “He rebuilt our relationship with the engineering firm and navigated the engagement through multiple challenging engineering cycles. His emotional intelligence and awareness of how to manage people dynamics have been invaluable.”

For Jason, Monolith represents not just a business opportunity, but a chance to create something meaningful with people he respects.

“I wanted camaraderie, partnership, and complementary skills with people I trust and enjoy,” Jason reflects. “The underlying product is great, but for me, it’s about tackling this challenge with the team and making it a success.”

After decades of working with some of the smartest real estate investors in the world, Jason has found something perhaps more valuable—a venture built on shared values that provides a deep sense of ownership and freedom.

Jeff Savage’s path to Monolith was paved with entrepreneurial dreams from childhood, though it would take an unexpected detour through academia before finding its destination.

“I was always aware of and interested in entrepreneurship,” Jeff explains. “When I was five, my mom started a sing and dance company as an after-school program. I was the oldest, so at five years old, I was singing ‘Good things come in little packages’ with a box around me wrapped like a Christmas present.”

This early exposure to entrepreneurship continued when Jeff’s father and uncle started a company during his high school years. The venture sparked Jeff’s interest, but also delivered a harsh lesson when the chief technology officer attempted to sell the company out from under his father and uncle, plunging the family from middle class to financial hardship.

“That experience pushed me toward accounting,” Jeff says. “I wanted security.”

After earning his undergraduate and master’s degrees in accounting at Brigham Young University, Jeff pursued a PhD at the University of Illinois, drawn to the study of entrepreneurs—what makes them tick, what leads to their success or failure. This academic pursuit led him to the University of South Carolina, where he discovered an unexpected truth about himself.

“An academic’s job is only one-third teaching,” Jeff notes with a wry smile. “The majority is research. I liked asking questions and solving them, but I didn’t like writing about questions I’d already solved. Once I’d figured out the problem, I was ready to move on.”

This realization led Jeff to shift his focus from traditional academic research to more hands-on entrepreneurial education. He incorporated consulting projects into his classes, began working with student startups, and eventually took over the entrepreneurship center at the business school.

His entrepreneurial itch grew stronger when he took a break from academia to help a friend raise a Series B round for his startup—only to be let go when the venture capitalists brought in their own management team.

“That experience made me really hungry for something I could call my own,” Jeff admits. “I’d helped so many startups over the years, and I was itching to do my own thing.”

Parallel to this professional evolution, Jeff’s personal interests were drawing him toward alternative building methods. Fascinated by permaculture—permanent agriculture that works with nature rather than against it—he dreamed of building a passive house that would require minimal electricity and live in harmony with the environment.

“We had several acres with goats, chickens, and ducks,” Jeff recalls. “I looked into Earth ships and nearly signed up for a class on alternative building methods. But then reality kicked in—the utility costs of our conventional house, the HVAC replacements, and the vulnerable nature of traditional construction. We’d moved to South Carolina in 2017, just after what they called the ‘hundred-year flood,’ which wasn’t that much water but enough to get under people’s doors.”

This confluence of professional ambition and personal interest in sustainable building created the perfect conditions for what happened next. In early 2023, Jeff met Jason, and the two began discussing either starting a business to help startups or potentially buying a business together.

Then came a fateful call from Ben Snuffer, introduced through a mutual friend who knew of Jeff’s interest in alternative building methods.

“Ben called and asked, ‘Have you heard of ICF?'” Jeff remembers. “I said no, and he described this building method that was easy to build with—you could even build your own house—and was essentially disaster-proof. Fire doesn’t ruin it, it performs better in earthquakes, it can withstand small floods, and hurricanes aren’t a big deal anymore. Plus, it’s incredibly energy efficient and quiet.”

Ben’s enthusiasm was infectious, and when Kirk joined a subsequent call to speak from his extensive experience with ICF, Jeff was hooked. He began researching the construction industry, recognizing its prime position for disruption.

“Construction is old, regulated, slow, with a labor crisis,” Jeff observes. “Houses are getting more expensive but not better quality—that’s a classic sign that an industry is ripe for disruption.”

What impressed Jeff most wasn’t that ICF was simply a better window or door, but an entirely new building system so well thought out that everything else works better with it—less HVAC equipment needed, no vulnerable viewpoints for moisture, easier picture hanging, and DIY-friendly construction.

Initially, Jeff and Jason offered to serve as advisors for a small equity stake, helping Ben and Kirk develop a business plan and presentation materials. But as their involvement deepened and their excitement grew, the relationship evolved.

“They came back to us and said, ‘How about you don’t just be advisors? How about you join us as partners and help us raise the money?'” Jeff recalls, still seeming somewhat amazed by the offer. “I’d never been offered that before. It was such a cool prospect.”

The partnership came with a condition: Jeff and Jason could join, but only if they raised the capital themselves. This responsibility fell primarily to Jeff, who leveraged his network and newly discovered passion for the technology.

Jeff’s ability to communicate the vision of Monolith proved remarkably effective. The company raised $2.5 million on what was essentially just an idea—no plant, no product, just a revolutionary concept that resonated deeply with investors.

For Jeff, Monolith represents the perfect intersection of his academic knowledge of entrepreneurship, his hands-on experience helping startups, and his personal passion for sustainable, resilient building. After years of studying entrepreneurs and helping others launch their dreams, he’s finally found a venture he can truly call his own.

“This isn’t just a one-off product,” Jeff says with unmistakable pride. “This is a new building system that’s so well thought out, everything else works better with it. That’s what makes it truly revolutionary.”

Long before Monolith was even a concept, Kirk was revolutionizing how we think about buildings.

His journey into construction began in southern Utah, where a chance encounter with a local builder—who happened to be Kirk’s ecclesiastical leader—turned into an apprenticeship that would shape his future. Working alongside this mentor, Kirk helped grow a modest homebuilding operation into a powerhouse constructing nearly 500 homes annually.

“I learned the industry from him,” Kirk recalls of his mentor. “He was a great entrepreneur, and I loved entrepreneurs.”

That entrepreneurial spirit soon led Kirk to establish his own concrete and excavation company, which evolved into a general contracting business building 25 custom homes per year. But something troubled him about traditional construction methods.

“I didn’t like cutting corners,” Kirk says, his voice carrying the weight of decades of experience. “I’d help friends and family with their homes, and I’d see the inefficiencies of traditional construction. The shortcuts people take today become tomorrow’s structural nightmares.”

This realization set Kirk on a path of discovery. A family friend introduced him to Insulated Concrete Forms (ICF)—a building system that combined insulating foam with concrete for superior strength and energy efficiency. Intrigued, Kirk used ICF to build several homes, including those for his mother-in-law and sister-in-law.

His journey took an unexpected turn when he joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as an owner’s representative, overseeing building projects across Central America, South America, Asia, Polynesia, and the continental U.S.

“I kept seeing the same problem everywhere,” Kirk explains. “The building envelope—where the wall meets the elements—was failing. The Church had nearly 20 buildings, less than 20 years old, that had to be completely torn down because of moisture problems destroying the structure from the inside. It was a global pattern of failure.”

Tasked with finding better solutions, Kirk traveled across North America and Canada, studying building methods and joining the National Readymix Association. His eyes were opened to the scale and potential of ICF. In Texas alone, he discovered over 150 schools built using ICF, able to shelter students during hurricanes that would demolish traditional structures.

When assigned to projects in Hawaii, where salt air rapidly deteriorates conventional buildings, Kirk was commissioned to find the best possible construction method. After exhaustive research, he recommended ICF—but not just any ICF. He had discovered a polyurethane-based ICF that outperformed the standard polystyrene products.

“The polyurethane didn’t absorb water, didn’t break down, didn’t attract termites,” Kirk notes. “But its design needed work.”

Kirk helped redesign the product, improving its engineering and structural integrity. He championed the new design so effectively that the Church is now building nearly $750 million worth of campus housing in Hawaii using ICF—reportedly the largest single ICF project in the world.

Despite this success, the path to Monolith wasn’t straight. Kirk tried several times to bring the improved polyurethane ICF to market with different partners, facing setbacks and disappointments along the way. At one point, after sharing his proprietary improvements with potential partners, they took his designs and “ghosted” him, leaving him with nothing but his expertise.

Then came a persistent string of messages from a contractor named Ben Snuffer.

“He was just reaching out to me, almost stalking,” Kirk laughs. “I tried getting him interested in something else, but he just kept saying, ‘No, I really want this polyurethane product.’ His determination impressed me.”

Kirk finally responded, telling Ben that if he could find a couple million dollars in funding, they could start a company together. To Kirk’s surprise, Ben didn’t give up. He found Jeff and Jason, who helped raise the necessary capital, and Monolith was born.

Today, the demand for Monolith’s superior polyurethane ICF blocks is overwhelming. Kirk has lost “dozens of sales” in the last eight months alone, simply from not having product ready to ship. The Church alone has 456 chapels in the continental U.S. they want to replace with more efficient buildings, and Kirk’s former director—now “third or fourth in command” of worldwide operations—has specifically requested Monolith’s polyurethane product.

For Kirk, Monolith represents the culmination of decades of learning, innovation, and a relentless pursuit of better building methods.

“History always repeats itself,” Kirk says with the quiet confidence of someone who has seen the patterns. “We just have to use reason and history to move forward. We’re trying to change the future by looking at the past.”