Born in The Bahamas.
Reborn in the Maritimes.

I never set out to start a lemonade company. I set out to not show up empty-handed.

It was 2012. My wife Cicely and I were in a small apartment in Nassau with a brand-new baby boy — born that May — and a single paycheque between us, hers. I was out of work. When the family asked us to bring a drink to our July 10th Independence Day gathering, buying something off a shelf felt wrong for a day like that. So we made our own. A strawberry lemonade, built on Switcha — the lime-and-sugar lemonade every Bahamian grows up on, the taste of every hot afternoon and every kitchen I can remember.

The room went quiet, then loud. You should sell this, they said. I'd heard people be polite about food before. This was different.

For the next few weeks our apartment turned into a science lab. Fruits, vegetables, herbs — we tried over twenty flavours before we settled on four: Classic, Strawberry, Watermelon Berry, and Ginger. We started small: home delivery, dropping bottles to offices around Nassau. Then, with a $430 live-birth cheque the government sent us for our son and a small investment from family, we entered the International Culture Food Festival that October — the biggest outdoor food event in the country.

I have to tell you the part I'll never be able to separate from this brand. That same month, our baby boy suffered a traumatic brain injury and was admitted to intensive care. We had two choices: give up, or press on. We pressed on. Cicely worked the festival in shifts, trading off with a family member so she could be at the hospital. It was the hardest thing we've ever done. The day we won Best Non-Alcoholic Beverage was the day our son came out of the ICU. He's fourteen now, perfectly healthy — and still the biggest lemonade fan I know.

After that, it grew into something I still can't quite believe. We opened a brick-and-mortar shop with every flavour, plus specialty food and popsicles. We built three first-of-their-kind inflatable lemonade stands across Nassau and Eleuthera. And somewhere in there it stopped being a product and became a movement — we called it the Lemonution. Our regulars were Lemonites, who'd show up to every festival and event with their Keep Cups in hand. The Lemonade Stand was the most successful, most natural thing I'd ever done. Making lemonade, marketing it, standing behind the counter — it never once felt like work.

We were mid-expansion — new investor, new equipment, new landlord, new location — and it all came down at once. We held onto our staff as long as we could, because we believed it would turn around. It didn't. With bills past due, investors to honour, and a third child on the way, we did the only responsible thing: we got jobs and clawed our way back out of debt.

Those jobs were in tourism — and Cicely loved it so much she pursued it for real, which led her to Holland College's Tourism & Travel Management program here on Prince Edward Island. We came for school. We stayed because we fell in love with the place. PEI felt strangely like home: the same closeness, the same pride of place I grew up with in the Bahamas.

And then I started making lemonade again. For new friends, for coworkers. And one of them looked up and said it — you should sell this. Ten years and an ocean away, and there it was again. Full circle.

So we're doing it. My cousin Lorinda Skyers, a fellow entrepreneur who was our business advisor and mentor from the very beginning, is now my partner for this next chapter. The Lemonade Stand is reborn as Main Squeeze Lemonade Co. Same soul, made better. Born in The Bahamas. Reborn in the Maritimes.

I think I was always meant to let the world sip something special.