Tribute to John Coles
by Joel Salatin
John Coles was like a rock foundation. Throughout my nearly 30 year
friendship with this gentle giant of a man, I never saw his passion,
conviction, or resolve waver even for a second. I got the impression
he was a reluctant public activist, being pushed behind the podium at
public hearings and onto local food advocacy boards of directors
because of his character integrity, not because he was eloquent or
flamboyant.
Often, people with more charisma and theatrical oratorical skills
than character depth become leaders, but John led by sheer strength of
character and integrity. His moral compass ran deep. No matter the
controversy, John kept an even keel and a sense of quiet discernment I
will deeply, deeply miss.
He never looked his age. In the last decade of our friendship,
whenever I could, I mischievously asked newly- introduced people:
"How old do you think John is?" They'd always guess about 15 years
younger. To me, that youthful physique, right up until the end, stood
as a metaphor for the hidden strength of this man. He had a lot more
wisdom than you might think; indeed, the wisdom of a man much older.
Every time I had the pleasure of his company, I came away more appreciative
of his quiet resolve, his quick, reassuring smile. And his understanding
of issues.
His character strength manifested itself in many ways through his
artisanal contributions to masonry stoves, brick laying, gardening.
The meticulous, thoughtful care attendant upon each piece of mortar,
clay, or seed left observers in awe of his craftsmanship. He spread
beauty. Few men have left such a legacy of pure spirit. Here was a
man without guile, without deceit.
That doesn't mean he was a wimp. Far from it. I had the pleasure,
many times, of watching John frame arguments for a public hearing to
defend the right of consumers to buy the food they wanted, and for
farmers to sell their earthy artistry. He could not abide bureaucrats,
especially the food police, who stood in the way of farmer and eater.
But even in his most vehement diatribe, even when railing against government
abuse, he always presented himself as a composed, reasonable man. Even in
the most heated disagreement, his foes respected him. That can't be said for
many of us.
John kept his life simple, uncluttered--by design. That's what a
craftsman he was. He carved out for himself an object lesson in the
values he espoused. A truly gifted cheese artisan, he spurned
building a bigger business. He never chased profits or volume. He
kept his material wants to a bare minimum, and that endeared him to
all of us who came to depend on his presence and strength for advocacy
efforts. He kept himself free enough to be there. Always. Several
years ago when we went to Washington D.C. in a sleet storm, he hiked
from his house out to Rt. 29 at 5 a.m. to meet the car so I wouldn't
have to drive in there. It takes an uncluttered, clearly focused life
to be able to do that, and laugh through it.
His stand at the Charlottesville Farmers' Market was legendary, not
just for the high quality illegal fresh cheeses and produce he made
available, but for his tireless efforts to educate customers about
food police. He gave away brochures, brainstormed new ways to
articulate the message. His one-on-one conversations, in aggregate,
may have touched more people, more deeply, than many of the more
group-oriented speeches others have given. He not only planted
ideological seeds; he nurtured them. He never tired of telling the story.
All of our hearts go out to Christine, his inseparable partner of 35
years, and whose charisma and bombastic style leveraged John's spirit
into countless public arenas. This team, in the arena of food
freedom, was indomitable. None of us minded going into the storm
holding hands with this pair. Now Christine, you will carry on
without this lifelong love. Our prayers for your decisions go before
you. May John's quiet spirit guide your decisions not only for how to
arrange your farm, but how to arrange your ministry from this day on.
Thank you for continuing to bear the torch. John would want that.
And for all of us who remain, may we take strength from the legacy of
this rock. We've all had the pleasure of sharing a laugh, a new
thought, an appreciative nod from this gentle giant. May we go forward
bearing his cause, remembering his conviction, and faithfully defending
the right of food choice.
John, adieu, our friend and mentor. We appreciate you.