Take me back to your very first camp experience.
My first real camp memory was actually dropping off my cousin. My mom and my aunt were very close, and my aunt had heard about Camp Tecumseh and decided to send my cousin up. We made the drive with them, helped set up her cabin, got her bunk sorted out ‚ and I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. I wanted to stay.
So you were jealous.
Completely jealous. But the funny part is, a year later, my mom had applied for a campership to get me in. My aunt was taking my cousin again, and my mom and aunt sat me down with this big announcement. They’re like, “Hey, we have really exciting news. You’re going to camp this summer.” And what should have been this huge, exciting moment… I was terrified. I cried all night thinking I was being shipped away.
You’d forgotten what you experienced the Summer before?
Totally forgot. I’d blocked out the cabin, the bunk, all of it. By the time I actually went, I loved it. From that point on, I went every year, all the way through the CILT (Campers in Leadership Training) program and into staffing.
Were you aware of your financial situation growing up? Did you know you were on a campership?
My dad passed away from pancreatic cancer when I was very young, so I grew up with a single mom who ran a daycare out of our house. She quit her job specifically so she could be home with me as much as possible. I knew things were different for us. We didn’t have a two-parent household, we weren’t as well-off as most of the kids at camp. But my mom did a remarkable job of shielding me from the financial stress of it all.
I genuinely didn’t know camperships were a thing until I was much older. I just felt like any other kid at camp. I didn’t walk around thinking, “I’m here because of donors.” I was just there to experience it. And in a way, I think that was a gift. I got to enjoy it fully as a kid, without carrying the weight of those circumstances.
What does it mean to you now, looking back?
I take real pride in being a campership kid. I take pride in the struggles we went through. Because it makes me think about the other kids out there in similar situations. How do we get them into experiences like this? How do we make sure they get what I got?
Let’s talk about your path after camp. You went to Ball State. What were you studying?
Growing up, everyone always told me I had a radio voice. At camp during CILTs, I was the disc jockey. I’d get up on stage and act like I was mixing beats. So in high school I started the radio station at Perry Meridian, and that got me into the media and business side of things. I went to Ball State to study on-air talent, spent four years in Muncie. What I lovingly call the thriving metroplex of Muncie – working in their College of Communication, Information and Media.
But you didn’t stick with on-air?
I got bored. It felt very repetitive. The same format, the same thing over and over. And I started noticing this whole business ecosystem running behind everything I loved about sports and media. That’s what really lit me up. So I transitioned from the on-air side toward the media management and production side.
And you got your pilot’s license (for real airplanes) while you were at Ball State?
A side quest. I’m a master of the side quest. There’s a scholarship through the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association, and I applied on a whim. My aunt was helping me write the letter of recommendation, and at some point she asked how many people usually apply. I looked it up and told her, ten to fifteen thousand. She basically said, “Okay, so you’re not getting it. I’m wasting my time on this letter.” Four or five months later, I got a call telling me I’d been selected. I got my pilot’s certificate in 2016, which happened to be right at the moment drones were starting to emerge. It was no man’s land‚ wide open.

How did drones go from a side interest to an actual business?
Honestly, it started as a forgotten class assignment. I was in a master’s program at Central Michigan University – a very specific degree, a Master of Arts in Media Management focused entirely on the media industry. There was an entrepreneurship class taught by Professor Amy Sendak, and an hour before class, a friend tells me we have a presentation due on a business concept that’s going to change the landscape of media.
I had no idea. So I had one hour to come up with something. I thought: drones are becoming a thing, helicopters are incredibly expensive, TV stations are hemorrhaging money. What if we just replaced helicopters with drones for broadcast? I threw the presentation together, walked in, and delivered it.
And?
After class, the professor pulls me aside and says it’s the best presentation she’s ever heard in the class. She wants me to submit it to the National Association of Broadcasters’ pilot innovation challenge. My first thought was: “You have no idea I put this together an hour ago.” But I submitted it. Didn’t think anything would come of it.
Then, around graduation, I get a random call from a number I don’t recognize. This was before spam calls took over‚ and it’s the president of the NAB telling me we’d been selected as a finalist out of two to three thousand applications. We were competing against teams from Harvard and Yale and companies that had already launched. We didn’t win, but making the final eight was the moment I thought: “Okay, maybe this forgotten class project actually has legs.”
So then you started the company?
We won a little startup capital and a summer accelerator program through CMU‚ a scaled-down version of a Y Combinator type of thing. I spent that summer actually building it. We initially called it something very focused on TV news, which turned out to be limiting. Eventually I rebranded to Hyvion. It came from the idea of a beehive, where the hive is the nucleus and the bees go out, gather pollen, and always come back. We liked that metaphor. The ending was meant to give it a more tech feel, and importantly, the name didn’t box us in.
After a period of ups and downs and trial and error (plus, a little time driving for Uber), Zach helped launch a drone program at Central Michigan University. It was there that he eventually made the connection that would lead him to a gig with ESPN.
Every person you meet is a potential connection, a potential relationship, a potential opportunity. Whether it becomes a friendship, an acquaintance, or a business partner, it matters. The key is making each of those interactions feel real, not transactional. That’s something camp taught me. You meet hundreds of kids from all different backgrounds, and you learn pretty quickly that showing up genuinely for people is how you build something that lasts.