I’ve been a metal roofing contractor in murfreesboro for a little over ten years, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that metal roofing here never behaves like it does on paper. I say that as someone who’s installed hundreds of roofs across Rutherford County, from newer subdivisions to older homes that have seen several generations of repairs. Metal roofing can be a smart, long-lasting decision—but only when it’s approached with the right expectations and the right workmanship.
I came up in the trade doing mostly asphalt work. Like a lot of contractors around here, metal roofing was something I took on gradually, job by job. One early project still sticks with me. A homeowner wanted metal after dealing with repeated shingle blow-offs during spring storms. On inspection, the issue wasn’t just the shingles—it was poor decking repairs from years earlier. We had to slow the project down, replace sections of the deck, and rework ventilation before installing a standing seam system. It cost more upfront, but several years later, that roof hasn’t needed a single service call. That job taught me that metal roofing rewards patience and punishes shortcuts.
Murfreesboro’s climate plays a bigger role in metal roofing than most people realize. The heat here is relentless, and it exposes mistakes fast. I’ve walked roofs installed by out-of-town crews where fasteners were overdriven, panels were cut too tight, and expansion was ignored. Those roofs usually look fine at first. Then summer hits. Panels start shifting, fasteners back out, and suddenly the homeowner is calling someone like me to figure out what went wrong. Metal moves. Anyone who’s worked with it long enough learns to respect that.
One misconception I run into often is that metal roofing is always the “upgrade” choice. I don’t agree with that across the board. I’ve advised homeowners against metal when the roof structure wasn’t right or when the budget didn’t allow for doing it properly. I remember a project last fall where the homeowner wanted metal mainly because they planned to sell in a few years. The roofline was complex, with multiple valleys and older dormers. Installing metal correctly would have required significant prep work. In that case, a high-quality shingle system made more sense. Not every roof needs to be metal, and pretending otherwise does more harm than good.
Noise is another topic that comes up on nearly every consultation. I’ve had people tell me they’re worried metal will sound like rain on a tin shed. In practice, with proper underlayment and attic insulation, metal roofs are no louder than shingles. I once had a homeowner call me during a storm—not to complain, but to say they had to step outside to confirm it was actually raining. That’s a common reaction when metal is installed correctly.
What does concern me is how often I’m called to fix metal roofs that were installed by crews without real metal experience. Metal roofing isn’t forgiving. Poor flashing around chimneys and wall transitions is one of the biggest mistakes I see. Another is installing metal directly over uneven decking and hoping it “settles.” It doesn’t. It reflects every flaw once the sun hits it. Fixing those issues usually involves partial removal, which costs far more than doing it right the first time.
I also spend a lot of time explaining longevity realistically. Yes, metal roofs can last decades, but that lifespan depends on the system, the installation, and the maintenance. I’ve seen well-installed metal roofs age gracefully, developing a uniform patina that still sheds water perfectly. I’ve also seen cheaper panels with poor coatings start to fade or chalk earlier than expected. Experience teaches you which products actually hold up in Middle Tennessee weather and which ones only look good in brochures.
If my perspective sounds cautious, that’s intentional. After years in the field, I’ve learned that metal roofing isn’t about selling a material—it’s about matching the roof to the house and the homeowner’s goals. Some of the best jobs I’ve done were the ones where we slowed down, had honest conversations, and made sure every detail was right before the first panel was set. Those are the roofs I don’t hear about again, and in this line of work, that’s usually the best outcome you can hope for.

In my experience, dedication begins with responsibility that doesn’t end at the treatment table. I remember a patient recovering from a shoulder injury who wasn’t progressing as expected. Technically, the care plan was sound. The exercises were correct. Insurance had approved everything. But something felt off. Instead of chalking it up to “slow healing,” I reviewed her movements again and realized she was guarding due to fear of re-injury, not physical limitation. I adjusted the approach, spent extra time explaining what sensations were normal, and checked in between sessions. Her recovery improved once she felt understood, not rushed.
One of the first projects where the script proved its worth was a city-sim inspired experience where NPCs needed layered daily routines. The original system I built worked, but any time a designer requested a behavioral variation—an NPC stopping to talk, reacting to weather, or changing pace—it felt like I was performing surgery. The Forge Roblox Script let me break those behaviors into small, modular pieces. I still remember a junior designer running over to my desk, excited because she managed to tweak an entire routine on her own without asking me for an engine-level rewrite. That shift alone sped up production more than any optimization pass I’ve done in years.