“We just wanted to own a business. We didn’t really know exactly what it would be.”

Seamus and Cathal Kennedy were in their twenties when they started looking for a business to buy. Not in any specific industry — just a business that made sense when you stood inside it. Something real.

Seamus was an engineer at a Fortune 500 company. Cathal worked in finance at a stockbroking firm. Both were doing well, but neither saw a fulfilling future, so after work, they met with business brokers and looked at whatever came up. What they found was a strange cross-section of New York commerce. One day it was a company making Perspex food boxes for bodegas; another, a seasonal ice business in the Hamptons. Seamus described it as “seeing all sorts of small businesses you would never even think existed”. The process wasn’t strategic; it was observational. Learn what exists, then decide what feels durable.

Eventually, they were introduced to Hersco Arch Products. The company had been around since 1935 but had stalled. The owner was older, clearly winding down. As Seamus put it, the business “had seen no love in at least a decade, maybe two.” And yet, the owner was doing well: he drove a new Cadillac, owned a house in Queens, and also had a place in Florida. At some point, the business had worked well. The gap between what it had been and what it had become signaled opportunity for the boys, so they made an offer – which was promptly rejected. Months later, the deal came back, and their second offer was accepted in twenty minutes!

“I went to see every podiatrist in Manhattan.”

Neither Seamus nor Cathal had a master plan when they took over. What they had instead was curiosity, and a willingness to show up. Seamus pulled names from old directories and account ledgers and started visiting podiatrists one-by-one in Manhattan, then Queens and Brooklyn, and eventually Philadelphia. Those visits became their R&D as doctors reacted immediately: “Boy, I haven’t seen that in years,” some would say, before explaining what needed to change. As Seamus described it, “the doctors actually taught us what we needed to know, and which product lines we had to develop.”

Some turning points came unexpectedly. Early on, a technician from another company, recently fired and looking for work, walked into their lab demanding a job. He turned out to have exactly the expertise they were missing, and ended up staying for decades. That became a pattern: solving problems in real time with whoever and whatever showed up.

“Being in New York, we’re always pushed a little harder to make ourselves productive.”

In the early years, decisions were fast and centralized. That worked, until it didn’t. As the business grew, instinct wasn’t enough. Decisions needed to scale. That’s when their core values crystallized:

Delight Customers. Work Hard. Be Reliable. Encourage Positivity. Embrace Change. Be Accountable.

These were not written for branding. They were used as their North Star, to make decisions on what gets approved, what gets rejected, and how teams operate day-to-day.

That same thinking shaped their approach to technology. Their first major shift was moving from fully manual production to CAD/CAM milling. Originally, everything was custom made by hand: standard for the industry, but hard to scale in a city where labor and space are expensive.

Years later, they made a second leap into 3D printing: higher output, more consistency, less waste. Seamus described it less as innovation for its own sake, and more as necessity. In New York City, constraints are constant: limited space, high costs, seasonal demand. Technology is how the business can adapt to variable demand without breaking.

Looking forward, that pattern continues. New production methods are always being evaluated, not to chase trends, but to reinforce what has already worked. More precision. More consistency. Room to keep growing without losing what made the business shine in the first place: Delighting Customers.