Most people who know me professionally think first of tax work, accounting, deadlines, software, and problem-solving. That is fair enough. Those things have defined much of my working life. But like many people, I have always been more than the title on the business card. Behind the office, the credentials, and the client work, there has also been an appreciation for machines, craftsmanship, and the satisfaction that comes from bringing something neglected back to life.
That is one reason the Harley-Davidson restoration meant so much to me. It was not just about owning an old motorcycle. It was about patience, persistence, and the pleasure of seeing a worn machine become something proud again. For me, that project became a fitting companion to a lifetime spent solving other kinds of problems.
Roots in Alabama, service in the Army, and a career in accounting
I was born in Cullman, Alabama, graduated from Hanceville High School in 1978, and served a six-year Army term that included two years of active duty. After military service, I pursued accounting, graduating from Wallace State Community College and later earning a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration from the University of Alabama in Huntsville while working at BARA as a co-op student. I came to BARA in 1986, and over time the path led to professional designations including Enrolled Agent, Accredited Tax Advisor, Certified Public Accountant, and later Chartered Global Management Accountant. In December 1994, I purchased the practice from retiring founder Al LaGrone, which eventually became Cook and Company.
The same temperament that helps a person stay with hard tax problems can also help him stay with a long mechanical restoration.
Technology, systems, and the habit of figuring things out
Even when my workday centered on tax law and client issues, I spent a good deal of off-hours learning and applying ways to improve the usability and security of my computer network. Technology has never felt separate from the practice. It has been part of the infrastructure that keeps a business dependable, protected, and responsive. When you invest heavily in software, hardware, and secure systems, you start to appreciate the hidden craftsmanship behind work that other people only notice when something goes wrong.
That mindset carried over naturally into the garage. Restoring an old motorcycle is different from maintaining a professional office, but both reward the same habits: attention to detail, methodical thinking, and the willingness to keep working through a problem until the answer becomes clear.
The Harley project: 2018 to 2020
Beginning in 2018, I took on the restoration of an old Harley-Davidson Heritage Springer that had been left in a barn for twenty years and showed only 1,910 miles on the odometer when I bought it. The motorcycle already had a story before I touched it. What it needed was someone willing to give it time, money, care, and a stubborn refusal to quit halfway through. From 2018 to 2020, that Harley became one of the most satisfying personal projects I had tackled in years.
Restoration work has a way of humbling you. There are moments when a machine looks better on paper than it does in person. There are parts that take longer than expected, details that cannot be rushed, and decisions that force you to choose between convenience and doing the job right. That is part of the appeal. Anyone can admire a finished motorcycle. The real bond comes from the hours spent earning the result.
Why the motorcycle mattered
For some people, restoring an old Harley is about nostalgia. For others, it is about mechanical challenge. For me, it was both of those things, but it was also a reminder that work with your hands can be every bit as satisfying as work with your mind. A career in tax and accounting is built on precision, judgment, and consistency. A restoration asks for those same qualities in a different language.
I liked the idea of preserving something with character rather than replacing it with something easier. There is value in old things that still have life left in them. That may be a machine, a practice, a tradition, or a place. Restoring the bike felt consistent with the rest of my life: respect what was built well, understand how it works, and do not be afraid to invest effort in keeping it going.
A life that was never just one thing
Professional biographies often flatten a person into a list of dates and credentials. Those matter, of course. They tell the public why someone is qualified and how he earned trust. But they never tell the whole story. The fuller story includes military service, long years in business, an interest in technology, family life, and a side project that involved breathing life back into an old motorcycle that had sat still for far too long.
That is part of what I want this page to reflect. The man behind the desk and the man working on the Harley are not two different people. They are the same person viewed from two angles. Both stories are about commitment. Both are about staying with something long enough to make it better.
About Greg
Greg Cook is an Army veteran, EA, CPA, Accredited Tax Advisor, and longtime Alabama practitioner whose interests range from tax strategy and technology to motorcycles, history, and long-form writing.