 The funny thing about a box is that you barely notice it until you really, really need it. (Unless you are a millennial and have a veritable collection of “good boxes”, and I’d almost bet at least one of them was made right here in St. Thomas.) You’re in a grocery store, half-thinking about dinner, and you walk past one of those tidy cardboard displays stacked with snacks or pet food. Or you’re opening an online order at your kitchen table, and you can tell, instantly, whether the packaging was an afterthought or part of the experience. The box is doing its job either way. Quietly. Reliably. Almost invisibly. And then you tour a place like Royal Containers in St. Thomas, and suddenly you can’t unsee it. You start looking for the little stamp on the bottom. You start wondering who designed the die cut. You start noticing the printing. I can’t be alone in this.  Royal Containers makes corrugated packaging. That’s the plain-language version. Boxes, trays, pads, retail displays, high-graphic packaging, the things that move products safely through the world and make them look good on a shelf while they’re at it. But when I sat down with Greg Marcella, it became clear that the real story here isn’t just “they make boxes.” It’s how they make them, why they chose to grow here, and what kind of workplace they’re trying to build on South Edgeware Road. It would be easy to assume that a company the size of Royal Containers must have outgrown its origins somewhere along the way. More facilities. More employees. More capital investment. More vertical integration. More customers whose names you definitely recognize when you see them on a store shelf. At some point, logic says, a business like that has to stop feeling personal. Except… that’s not what happens here.  Royal Containers was founded in 1980 by Ross Nelson, and the company still carries the imprint of those early, family-run days in a way that’s hard to miss once you start paying attention. The scale has changed dramatically. The mindset hasn’t. When Ross passed leadership to his daughter, Kim Nelson, that philosophy came with it — the belief that you can grow without losing your grip on what matters, that you can invest heavily and still treat people like people, and that relationships aren’t something you outgrow as you get bigger.
That throughline came up again and again in my conversation with Greg, even as we were discussing million-dollar equipment investments, acquisitions across Ontario, and the St. Thomas facility becoming the company's flagship operation. Greg would describe the expansion, then pause, circle back, and ground it in something very human. A handshake. A promise kept. A decision made because it was the right thing to do, not just the efficient one. Royal today operates across multiple sites, employs hundreds of people, and serves customers ranging from local manufacturers to global brands. And yet, the way Greg talks about the company still sounds a lot like someone describing a mom-and-pop shop — just one that happens to own a paper mill, invest continuously in cutting-edge technology, and produce packaging you’ve probably handled without realizing it.
That mentality shows up everywhere. In how customers are treated. In how employees are supported. In how acquisitions are handled, not as cost-cutting exercises but as moments where people need reassurance, clarity, and trust. Growth is clearly important here, but not at the expense of culture. Not at the expense of the community. And not at the expense of the people who make the boxes in the first place. In a capitalist world, Royal Containers is thinking outside the box that society wants to stuff manufacturers. It’s also part of why Royal’s move to St. Thomas didn’t feel like a corporate relocation so much as a long-term commitment. This wasn’t a short-term play. It was a decision to build something lasting, in a place that values the same things: relationships, accountability, and the idea that business should leave a community better than it found it. And once you understand that history: Ross’s foundation, Kim’s leadership, and the values that have stayed stubbornly intact along the way, the rest of the story starts to make a lot more sense. Including the boxes.  A company that chose the “middle lane,” on purposeGreg described Royal Containers as a company that has deliberately carved out a unique space in their industry. Not a tiny mom-and-pop operation, but not a faceless corporate giant either. That “in-between” position matters more than you’d think. It’s what lets Royal Containers be an all-in-one solution provider, with the equipment, scale, and vertical integration you’d expect from a much larger organization, while still keeping a very human approach to business. The kind where a handshake still counts for something. Where you can tailor how customers order, whether they want a fully transparent online portal or would rather have a sales rep sit down with them face-to-face to build the order together. Where a Senior VP can walk the shop floor and say hello to a sea of smiling faces by name. And yes, the “box world” has changed. Royal started from a strong foundation in what Greg called the “brown box” side of the industry, the sturdy, practical shipping boxes that most of us only think about when we’re moving or ordering something heavy. But the St. Thomas facility was part of a bigger pivot into more product branding, higher-end printing, and more complex retail and display work. So you still get the dependable boxes people need for shipping. You also get the beautiful, high-graphic packaging and displays you stop to admire in stores. Sometimes, without even realizing you’re admiring cardboard.  Why St. Thomas, and why it stuckRoyal Containers’ growth story includes acquisitions and expansion over decades, including a London-area operation (Morphy Containers) that Royal acquired in 2009, and larger strategic moves that followed. Then came the need for space, modern equipment, and a long runway to grow. And this is where Greg gets very candid. They were outgrowing their previous footprint. They were trying to expand. They were looking at a future where the business needed to scale. And in that moment, St. Thomas didn’t just have a building. St. Thomas had an attitude. Greg talked about how quickly the move went from “are we really doing this?” to “how did we not do this sooner?” The difference, in his mind, was the sense of real partnership. The kind that feels pro-business in a grounded way, not at the expense of the community, or employees, or the environment. That’s how the St. Thomas site became more than “a location.” It became the flagship. And that’s not just local pride talking. It shows up in how they invest here. It shows up in the steady growth of the operation, the way they’ve continued to bring in new equipment and expand capabilities, and the way St. Thomas is now the place they’re proud to tour.
“Wait… you don’t cut down trees for this?”One of the most common misconceptions Greg still runs into is also one of the most important to clear up. People hear “box making” and assume forests. But modern corrugated packaging is heavily tied to recycling systems. Greg pointed out that recycling, the blue box approach, and the demand for recovered fibre are deeply connected to this industry. Royal Containers’ model includes a vertically integrated supply chain, including partnerships that link recycled corrugated material back into new containerboard, helping keep recycled resources in circulation. There’s also a practical side to this that I think people appreciate once it’s explained. In a world that’s trying to move away from plastics in more and more applications, paper-based packaging is suddenly “caught up” to the moment. Customers want packaging that aligns with sustainability goals, and corrugated, done right, fits. And Royal seems to take that seriously, not just as a marketing line. Greg even shared a small story about learning quickly that environmentally focused customers (think: the kind of brand that notices everything) expect the details to match the values. It’s not enough to say the product is sustainable. You have to live it consistently.
The part Greg cares about most: the people partSome interviews are full of growth stats and equipment specs. Those things came up, too, of course. But the moments that really stayed with me were the ones about culture, values, and how employees are treated when real life shows up. Greg described Royal’s values in plain terms: respond, care, perform, lead. And he was very clear about one thing: the systems and procedures are nice, but they’re not the point. The team is the point. He talked about the pride of building a workplace where people want to stay, and where the company doesn’t build success by racing to the cheapest option. Royal’s pitch is essentially, “We’ll make you a better box, we’ll stand behind it, and we’ll show up when you need us.” Sometimes that means being the calm, capable partner when a customer realizes late in the game that shipping is about to get messy. And then he shared something that honestly stopped me for a second: the company’s commitment to stability and taking care of employees through difficult seasons of life. Not in a performative way. In a real, meaningful “go home, be with your family, we’ve got you” way. It’s not the kind of story you expect to hear when you’re visiting a manufacturing facility. But it’s exactly the kind of story that explains why people talk about a workplace the way Royal’s team seems to.  Local impact that’s both big and oddly personalIt’s easy to say “local impact.” It’s harder to describe what that actually looks like in daily life. Greg gave a few examples. One of my favourites was how quickly business relationships in St. Thomas can turn into actual community connections. A conversation at a hockey arena becomes, “Wait, you’re Royal? You’re on Edgeware?” and suddenly people are talking shop, talking community, talking about what it’s like to do business here. He also shared a story about a nearby business owner who showed up early, not exactly thrilled, because of some preexisting frustration in the industrial community. That interaction could have stayed tense. Instead, it became the start of a long-term relationship. A deliberate decision to do things differently. To make it right, and to keep it local whenever possible. That’s what “embedded in the community” looks like. Not a ribbon-cutting photo. More like a knock on the door, an honest conversation, and then years of doing what you said you’d do. The “you’ve definitely seen our work” listBy the end of the conversation, I was laughing because Greg kept naming products and brands in a way that made it feel like Royal Containers is hiding in plain sight. Pet retail displays. Craft beer flats. E-commerce packaging. High-graphic shelf-ready pieces. The kinds of things you’ve held in your hands without thinking twice. And now you’ll probably start thinking twice. A St. Thomas success story that’s still unfoldingRoyal Containers came to St. Thomas with a vision and a willingness to invest. They found the right building, the right partners, and a community that understood what they were trying to do. And they’re still doing it. They’re growing. They’re investing in capability and capacity. They’re building a flagship operation here. They’re proving that advanced manufacturing can be clean, modern, and genuinely people-first. If you’ve driven by the facility and wondered what happens inside, the answer is: a lot more than you think. And maybe, if you’re anything like me, you’ll start noticing the boxes around you a little differently now. Because they’re not just boxes. They’re part of how St. Thomas makes things happen.
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