I arrived in this small town of Ajo, AZ, a bit lost, in transition, and to add to the sense of dislocation, no good coffee existed. It was kind of like arriving in one of those dry dusty western towns in the movies, except that I thirsted for a good cup of caffeine.

So, I began by selling a friend's fresh roasted coffee at our local 'Authentically Ajo" farmers market. The problem was that it wasn't 'Authentic' to Ajo.

Not willing to give up, I began to learn the trade with my Tucson friend. After hours of roasting along with a few good laughs and tears, spilling the beans in more ways than one, I caught the roasting fire. Curley Coffee was soon established on Ajo soil.