
I’m Doug Kerwin
That’s me, circa 1990, probably hard at work coding the BBS (bulletin board system) I ran at the time, which was kind of a pre-Internet blend of email, Reddit, YouTube, torrent sites, and chat rooms. I taught myself to program in C using WWIV, an open-source BBS system I bought for a $50 registration fee. I modified WWIV so much that you could barely tell it originated from there, and eventually published my own BBS software, Quiver. While still in middle school, I earned about $10,000 in registration fees, following the same $50 precedent set by WWIV—my first real taste of success.
I owe a lot to that early experience—not just for learning C, but for discovering how to build and bring a product to market that people actually wanted and were willing to pay for. It helped lay the foundation for what would eventually become my career, both as a software developer and as a founder. I’m still really just that same kid, always building something. And to Wayne Bell, the creator of WWIV—thanks for open-sourcing WWIV, and sorry for profiting without compensating you 🤷🏻♂️. I think the statute of limitations is probably up by now, but I owe you a beer.
One of my more successful endeavors was FulcrumGallery.com (later FramedArt.com), an online retailer of custom framed art prints which I grew from zero to almost $10M in annual revenue, supporting a staff of 60 at its height. This business was started half by accident, it gained some success, but we were mostly chasing Art.com, the bigger player in the market, trying to keep up with their lead. We never really sat down from the beginning to ask, “What can we do uniquely in the art market?”—which, of course, turned out to be pretty much Startup 101 for long term sustainability. On top of that, the business was incredibly cost intensive. Between the warehouse, payroll, inventory, equipment, and the constant need to pay Google Ads to acquire customers, we operated with razor thin margins. Struggling through all this taught me the importance of having a unique selling proposition and building a lean, product led business with low overhead.
These days, I lead teams of engineers building cloud native applications in AWS, focusing heavily on serverless and event driven architectures with technologies like Lambda, ECS Fargate, S3, DynamoDB, Node.js, and Python. Serverless is kind of amazing—it lets you build something that’s almost ridiculously inexpensive and, at the same time, can scale to handle just about any level of demand. I’m fortunate that my full time role involves working with the same technologies and solving similar technical challenges, creating a natural synergy with the personal projects I build on the side. What I love most about being an engineer is the ability to take an idea and completely bring it to life. I truly enjoy the craft of software development and always have, ever since I was a kid.
Outside of my work, the most important role I have is being a dad to my two young daughters, Mackenzie and Sydney. It’s the hardest and most meaningful work I’ve ever done. Navigating it while being divorced, and parenting a special needs child, brings its own set of challenges. My younger daughter, Sydney, is autistic, and raising her has been both demanding and deeply rewarding. If I succeed at just one thing as a parent, it’s making sure they know there’s nothing they could ever do that would make me love them any less. Of all the things I’m surely getting wrong, I hope they always know they are unconditionally loved.
Running is a big part of my life. Most people who know me know that I’m a runner, and it’s funny how something so simple can become such a defining part of who you are. I’m grateful the universe saw fit to put running in my life and that I was one of the lucky ones who stuck with it long enough to push through the initial struggle for it to become a lifelong gift. It’s been such a positive force in my life, helping me feel sharper, more grounded, and focused. Running gives me a sense of wellbeing that’s hard to find elsewhere, and knowing I’ve got a run or race planned keeps me motivated to take care of myself.
My faith is an important part of my life, and given its significance surprisingly few people actually know this about me. I accepted Christ as a teenager, but after college I drifted away for many years, developing some doubts and chasing after my own ambitions instead of focusing on God. But the faith decision I made in my youth was real, and I ultimately returned to it. I believe in the God of the Bible, and while my views have been influenced by science, philosophy, and other worldly learning, I see them as pieces of a larger truth rather than contradictions. I value the pursuit of evidence and believe it’s essential to seek understanding, but I also recognize that our grasp of the universe and its mysteries is far from complete. There’s a point where evidence ends and faith begins, and I think we’re often closer to that edge than we realize. When I look at the universe, I see purpose and intention. It’s too perfectly crafted to be accidental, and that’s what fuels my faith in a creator.
A Bible verse that particularly resonates with me is Jeremiah 18:4 (NLT): “But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over.” I love this imagery of starting over, especially with the same clay. I feel a lot like the potter—there have been many times in my life where things I’ve worked hard to shape—whether relationships, businesses, or career paths—haven’t turned out as I’d hoped. I’ve had to start over more times than I can count. But this verse reminds me that failure or setbacks aren’t the end; they’re chances to show resilience, taking those same experiences, lessons, and even mistakes, and transforming them into something stronger. Ultimately, it’s about trusting that God is the potter and I am the clay, being shaped and reshaped in His hands, with every experience leading to something more aligned with His purpose.