For most people, a fall from a two-story building is a tragic end to a career. For Kendall Cantave, it was a curriculum.
In 1996, while framing a residential project in New York, the scaffold stage Kendall was standing on collapsed as he was setting a ridge for rafters. He plummeted nearly three levels. Fortune, however, was in the excavation; he landed in the soft dirt of a basement recently dug for waterproofing. "I broke my leg, but I’ll take that over what could have been worse," he recalls. "In New York, the dirt is usually as hard as cement."
That moment of impact transformed his trajectory. Today, Kendall is a safety manager at the Biosolids Digester Facilities Project (BDFP) in San Francisco, an essential infrastructure project for the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission. He views his role not as a site regulator, but as an "EH&S philanthropist" – a man who dedicates his life to the well-being of others through active caring.
From the Mud of Haiti to the High-Rises of New York
Kendall’s journey to the BDFP site began in Nyack, New York, but his foundation was laid in Haiti. Sent to live with his grandmother at age three following his parents' separation, he spent the next five years in a world where he was already an aspiring builder. "I would play in the mud, forming roads and houses," he says. "I’d find a rock and imagine it was an excavator, digging my roadway."
Returning to the U.S. meant facing a new set of hurdles. English was a second language, and the transition to a Brooklyn school was marked by the cruelty of childhood bullying. Teased for his accent and his clothes, he was labeled "Frenchie." Yet, the resilience he learned in the Caribbean carried him through. He eventually enrolled at the New York Institute of Technology to study architecture, but he soon discovered that the drafting table couldn't compete with the reality of the job site.
"I’m a hands-on person," he explains. He found himself unprepared for the academic freedom of college – the lack of guidance on grading and the sudden freedom of the system – and pivoted into the field. He joined the union as a carpenter, entering a New York construction scene that was then a labyrinth of nepotism and favoritism. Despite a relentless work ethic, job security was elusive; a foreman could lay you off after four months regardless of your performance. "I decided to outwork everyone," he says. "I treated it like being an athlete – eating right, getting enough sleep, and making sure I was in peak condition to outperform."
The Art of the Craft and the "Why" of Safety
Kendall's career is a testament to the diversity of the trade. Before transitioning to safety, he mastered rough carpentry and even explored the artistry of shotcrete. Fascinated by the natural "break" of stone, he specialized in carving man-made rocks. He traveled the East Coast from Myrtle Beach to Florida, building golf courses and water parks featuring intricate streams and waterfalls. It was a period of creativity, marked by the use of shotcrete to mimic the textures of the natural world.
However, the 1996 accident remained his most profound teacher. The recovery was grueling, involving eight months of inactivity and three separate surgeries to realign his leg with plates and screws. It also forced a reckoning with the lax safety standards of the 1990s. "I blame myself," he says. "I should have inspected that plank. Back then, there were no tie-off requirements or scaffold inspections. It was just one little nail holding the plank I was standing on."
When financial hardship followed his injury, Kendall sought a change of scenery. In 1997, he moved to San Francisco, drawn by the city’s beauty and the "boom" of tower cranes – and by the woman who became the mother of two of his children.
He spent the next 16 years as a carpenter foreman at Pankow, running major projects but encountering a familiar ceiling. "My dream was to become a superintendent, but I was never given that opportunity," he notes. "I got tired of bringing outside hires up to speed on projects I knew inside and out."
The Webcor Transition: Innovation and Influence
In 2014, Kendall walked onto Webcor’s 201 Folsom site and left his phone number. Within two hours, he was hired. He was immediately struck by the difference in culture and technology. "I was blown away by the innovation," he says. "Webcor was already moving forward with new engineered systems like Proteck and Prosure. But more than that, I felt embraced. People were actually helping you be successful."
Three months in, leadership recognized Kendall’s unique blend of field expertise and his natural ability to connect with people. Webcor Concrete Sr. VP Greg Miller approached him about transitioning into safety. While he initially wondered what he was getting into, Kendall realized his personality – often described as "too polite" – was actually his greatest asset in a safety role. He understood the "how" of building, which gave him instant credibility with the crews.
"Safety has to come from the heart," he says. "Workers find regulations stifling, so you have to explain the 'whys' and the benefits. I spend a lot of my time just coaching workers." He views himself as an "EH&S (Environmental Health & Safety) philanthropist" because he dedicates his life to helping others and providing support. This philosophy of active caring drives him to lead by example every day, even when the role is tough.
Finding Community and Allyship in The Collective
As a Black man who has navigated decades of industry shifts, Kendall is no stranger to the rougher road of discrimination. He has felt the weight of systemic racism and the pressure to be an asset who outworks everyone else. Joining The Collective, Webcor's Black employee resource group (ERG), has provided a vital space for reflection and advocacy.
"The Collective is refreshing," he says. "It’s a safe space where we can talk about shared struggles. But what makes it great is the presence of allies of different colors who sincerely want to understand our pain. Having people at high levels who want to be part of the solution shows that we aren't alone".
In addition, Kendall spearheads "Speak Up for Unity" at the BDFP project. He has been actively involved in the project's many community initiatives, and is proud to be an ally for women in construction.
Outside of work, Kendall is a devoted father and a legendary New York Jets fan. He recalls buying tickets to a game for him and his kids and arriving at his seats only to find someone else had tickets for the same seats. When a stadium manager arrived to address the problem, he and his children were given field passes. “We ended up on the Miami Dolphins sideline, but it was still one of the coolest experiences I ever had, my kid and I, and unlimited food, on the sidelines.”
He has mentored his daughters – one a medical student at UC Davis, another with a dual major in biology and international health at the University of Rochester - and his son, Joshua Green, has even followed in his footsteps into Webcor as a journeyman carpenter.
Kendall spends his weekends on new business ventures, recently opening a couple of spas with his wife, whom he married only recently. He is a man who believes in continuous improvement, whether learning to swim at age 40 (encouraged by his daughter) or mentoring young protesters on how to convey a message without resorting to violence at a demonstration.
“I attend protests to support the cause, but also to mentor attendees,” he says. “The purpose gets overlooked when a demonstration turns violent.”
As he looks toward the future, Kendall’s goal remains as grounded as the dirt he landed on 30 years ago. "I want my legacy to be that I was a genuine, caring person who looked out for people," he says. "In the field, they’re looking for someone genuine. You can't just act like it; they have to feel it".
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