Everybody's got their own dumpster fire.
The name isn't a joke about the work. It's about the last ten years.
I spent six years caring for my mom while she was terminally ill, and then nearly died myself, a heart attack in 2024, all while grinding through high-stress jobs. That pretty much summed it up. Everyone is going through something. Everyone's got their own dumpster fire to deal with.
After the heart attack I knew I had to get out of the corporate world. I'd done aquaculture, then construction management, and I was done letting a job run me into the ground. The last two outfits my brother Tobias and I helped run belonged to other people. We did the work but never had a real say in how things went. So we started Dumpster Fire in 2025 with our wives. Our shot at doing it our way, on the up and up. A real family business.
I'm Tyler Heeb, a fourth-generation Floridian. I grew up barefoot in the woods of Pine Island. This is home, and our customers are our neighbors. The thing I'm proudest of isn't the trucks or the dumpsters. It's that we've stayed flexible enough to actually help people the way they need it, instead of forcing everybody into the same box.
