On the third afternoon, Gabe stopped me as I brought out a tray of iced tea. “Come up,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
I met Gabe Hartley six weeks earlier at the county fair. He wasn't the flashiest vendor there—no spinning signs or inflatable tube men. He had a simple pop-up tent next to a four-foot-square display of metal roofing panels. “Provia,” the sign said. I walked past him twice, heading for the lemonade stand. But on the third pass, a piece of hail the size of a marble pinged off the display’s corner post, and Gabe caught my eye. provia metal roofing contractor
I asked him the question I’d been holding back. “Why Provia? There’s fifty metal brands out there.” On the third afternoon, Gabe stopped me as
That was six years ago. The roof hasn’t leaked, faded, or so much as loosened a single fastener. Gabe calls every spring to check on it—not to sell me anything, just to make sure. Last month, he brought his apprentice by to show him the install. The kid ran his hand over the panels and said, “Looks brand new.” He wasn't the flashiest vendor there—no spinning signs