How it all started...
The Table Collective was born out of heartbreak—and out of the kind of love that only a community can show when they decide that someone else’s suffering is their own.
In 2022, Ryan Gayler, the father of our co-founder, was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of pancreatic cancer. Overnight, his family was thrust into a world of hospital rooms, medical jargon, difficult decisions, and prayers whispered in the dark.
For a time, there was hope. But when the cancer spread to his liver, doctors delivered the words no family is ever prepared to hear: there were no more options.
Ryan was not the kind of man to give up easily. He fought with everything he had—not just for himself, but for the people he loved. He pursued surgeries in Indianapolis, natural treatments in Mexico, and even a clinical trial in Arizona. Through it all, he remained the same Ryan his family had always known: steady, determined, and deeply devoted to the people around him.
He was the kind of man who loved goofy jokes and hunting down the best ice cream shop on every vacation. He could build anything—whether it was a homemade sled pulled behind a four-wheeler or the very house his family called home. He loved days on the boat at Raccoon Lake, skiing with a grin and somehow always outdoing everyone else. He read constantly, loved learning about finance, and never missed a chance to watch his kids play sports.
Ryan took pride in the life he built with his wife, Toni—working side by side on yard projects, grilling steaks and garden vegetables on summer evenings, and gathering the family for games of “spud” in the yard after dinner. He loved quiet moments too: cuddling his granddaughters during naps, talking basketball and new ideas with his sons, and taking Toni on dates—whether that meant grocery shopping and dinner or a special night out in Indianapolis.
In 2022, Ryan Gayler, the father of our co-founder, was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of pancreatic cancer. Overnight, his family was thrust into a world of hospital rooms, medical jargon, difficult decisions, and prayers whispered in the dark.
For a time, there was hope. But when the cancer spread to his liver, doctors delivered the words no family is ever prepared to hear: there were no more options.
Ryan was not the kind of man to give up easily. He fought with everything he had—not just for himself, but for the people he loved. He pursued surgeries in Indianapolis, natural treatments in Mexico, and even a clinical trial in Arizona. Through it all, he remained the same Ryan his family had always known: steady, determined, and deeply devoted to the people around him.
He was the kind of man who loved goofy jokes and hunting down the best ice cream shop on every vacation. He could build anything—whether it was a homemade sled pulled behind a four-wheeler or the very house his family called home. He loved days on the boat at Raccoon Lake, skiing with a grin and somehow always outdoing everyone else. He read constantly, loved learning about finance, and never missed a chance to watch his kids play sports.
Ryan took pride in the life he built with his wife, Toni—working side by side on yard projects, grilling steaks and garden vegetables on summer evenings, and gathering the family for games of “spud” in the yard after dinner. He loved quiet moments too: cuddling his granddaughters during naps, talking basketball and new ideas with his sons, and taking Toni on dates—whether that meant grocery shopping and dinner or a special night out in Indianapolis.
While Ryan was fighting for his life, something extraordinary was happening around his family.
Their community showed up.
People who barely knew them organized fundraisers. Local businesses sold “Gayler Strong” shirts. Churches prayed. Strangers sent handwritten cards and checks in the mail. Friends delivered meals, gas cards, and hugs.
No one waited to be asked—they simply stepped in.
When Ryan became too sick to continue treatment in Arizona, doctors discovered he had contracted valley fever, a serious fungal infection. His weakened immune system could no longer fight both the infection and the cancer. It became clear that he needed to come home—to Indiana, to his house, to the window he loved to look out of.
After the shock and heartbreak of Ryans Diagnosis in Arizona, Medical professionals believed strongly that the only way Ryan would be able to make it home to Indiana in time would be through securing a medical flight. Ryans wife and children quickly realized that insurance was not going to allow a medical flight to be an option.
In desperation to find a solution his daughter started a GoFundMe, hoping to raise a few thousand dollars to bring him home.
What happened next still takes our breath away.
Within 12 hours, more than $40,000 had been given. Phones rang nonstop with offers of help. Someone volunteered a private plane. Another offered to drive the family’s car across the country. Volunteers cleaned the house, stocked the pantry, coordinated medical equipment, and handled countless details behind the scenes.
Because of that outpouring of love, Ryan made it home.
When they told him he was going back to Indiana, he cried—not from fear, but from relief and gratitude. Surrounded by his family, in the home he built and loved, Ryan passed away one week later—exactly where he wanted to be.
Their community showed up.
People who barely knew them organized fundraisers. Local businesses sold “Gayler Strong” shirts. Churches prayed. Strangers sent handwritten cards and checks in the mail. Friends delivered meals, gas cards, and hugs.
No one waited to be asked—they simply stepped in.
When Ryan became too sick to continue treatment in Arizona, doctors discovered he had contracted valley fever, a serious fungal infection. His weakened immune system could no longer fight both the infection and the cancer. It became clear that he needed to come home—to Indiana, to his house, to the window he loved to look out of.
After the shock and heartbreak of Ryans Diagnosis in Arizona, Medical professionals believed strongly that the only way Ryan would be able to make it home to Indiana in time would be through securing a medical flight. Ryans wife and children quickly realized that insurance was not going to allow a medical flight to be an option.
In desperation to find a solution his daughter started a GoFundMe, hoping to raise a few thousand dollars to bring him home.
What happened next still takes our breath away.
Within 12 hours, more than $40,000 had been given. Phones rang nonstop with offers of help. Someone volunteered a private plane. Another offered to drive the family’s car across the country. Volunteers cleaned the house, stocked the pantry, coordinated medical equipment, and handled countless details behind the scenes.
Because of that outpouring of love, Ryan made it home.
When they told him he was going back to Indiana, he cried—not from fear, but from relief and gratitude. Surrounded by his family, in the home he built and loved, Ryan passed away one week later—exactly where he wanted to be.
That week changed everything.
It revealed the breathtaking power of people choosing to show up. And it exposed a painful truth: not everyone has that kind of support when life falls apart.
The generosity Ryan’s family experienced did more than meet practical needs—it healed something deep within them. It reminded them that we belong to each other.
From that experience, The Table Collective was born.
We exist to carry forward the spirit of those days—the way people rallied, the way they loved without hesitation, and the way a community can become a lifeline. Our mission is simple: to ensure that no one has to walk through hard seasons alone.
We want to be the hands, the heart, and the hope of a community that shows up—just like ours did.
Ryan Gayler’s legacy lives on in everything we do. His fight, his faith, his laughter, and his love continue through this work.
And we believe this is just the beginning.
It revealed the breathtaking power of people choosing to show up. And it exposed a painful truth: not everyone has that kind of support when life falls apart.
The generosity Ryan’s family experienced did more than meet practical needs—it healed something deep within them. It reminded them that we belong to each other.
From that experience, The Table Collective was born.
We exist to carry forward the spirit of those days—the way people rallied, the way they loved without hesitation, and the way a community can become a lifeline. Our mission is simple: to ensure that no one has to walk through hard seasons alone.
We want to be the hands, the heart, and the hope of a community that shows up—just like ours did.
Ryan Gayler’s legacy lives on in everything we do. His fight, his faith, his laughter, and his love continue through this work.
And we believe this is just the beginning.
