Two decades
in the operator’s
seat.

My path to Odiorne Advisory Services started two decades ago, in rooms most advisors never sit in. I began by teaching accounting at the University of North Carolina Wilmington and auditing for the State of North Carolina — learning early that a number is only as good as the judgment behind it. From there I moved into senior living finance, and over the next twenty years worked my way into the operator’s seat.

For more than a decade I served as Chief Financial Officer and Chief Operating Officer of a New Hampshire continuing care retirement community, with full responsibility for finance, accounting, treasury, audit, and day-to-day operations. I also served on the board of the New Hampshire Health and Education Facilities Authority through its 2026 merger into the New Hampshire Business Finance Authority — governance and public finance seen from inside the room, not just the ledger.

I started OAS because too many senior living executives, not-for-profit boards, and owner-operators get advice that’s either too generic to act on or too expensive to justify. Senior living is a field where the financial mechanics — entrance fees, refund liabilities, occupancy economics, payor mix, life-care actuarial assumptions — don’t behave like anything else in healthcare or real estate. Running a CCRC well means running a real estate business, a healthcare business, a hospitality business, and an HR business at the same time. You need someone who has actually done it.

That’s the lens I bring to every engagement: practical, plain-spoken, and grounded in what it actually takes to run a successful organization. OAS works first to define what success looks like for your organization — then builds and executes the financial, operational, and governance strategies to get there. The discipline I hold to is simple: an engagement must return outsized value relative to its cost.

The firm is named for Odiorne Point on the New Hampshire seacoast. Settled by John Odiorne in 1660, the land stayed in the Odiorne family for close to three centuries — through farming, fishing, and every upheaval the country passed through — until the federal government took it for coastal defense during the Second World War. The families were never able to buy it back; in 1961 the State of New Hampshire acquired the point and created Odiorne Point State Park: today the largest undeveloped stretch of Atlantic shoreline in New Hampshire.

The name is personal, too. I grew up on the southern coast of North Carolina, and the beach — any beach — is where I’ve always felt most at home. I’ve spent years now on the New England shore, and Odiorne Point and the waters around it hold a particular pull for me. That through-line at Odiorne — generations of stewardship, loss, and renewal — is also what the best advisory work looks like: long, patient attention to what was built and what’s being built next, in the knowledge that we’re neither the first nor the last to care for the place.

I’m happiest outdoors and near salt water. I surf — usually the cold Atlantic off the New Hampshire seacoast, on sunrise mornings when there’s no one out but a few seals — and chase waves farther afield when travel allows. I run, hike the White Mountains, garden, and ski all winter with the whole family. Laura and I have followed good waves and good light from Rincón, Puerto Rico to Bali, from El Salvador and Nicaragua to Morocco, along with the places closer to home we keep coming back to: Acadia, Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard, the North Carolina coast where I grew up, and the New Hampshire seacoast where I surf.

I came north from Asheville, North Carolina in 2014, spent my first years in Peterborough, and have been in Concord since 2021 — a true Southerner at heart who’s grown real New England roots. My wife Laura, a school psychologist, is in on the important things: skiing, the beach, travel, and staying active. Our three kids are runners, athletes, musicians, and theater kids — cross country and track, basketball, band, chorus, the stage, and a genuine habit of volunteering — good students and, by every measure I trust, all-around good humans. Our oldest just started at the University of Vermont; the younger two are working their way through high school.

Some of that outlook I owe to my mother, who taught me — mostly by example — to pay attention to people and take care of what matters. In a way, the work I do for senior living organizations is an extension of hers: close attention to people, clear-eyed about what’s worth caring for, and competent in the doing. The clients I most want to work with tend to see the work the same way.