Applegater May-June 2008 21
The genesis of David James and Greenleaf Industries
BY SIOUX ROGERS
I thought I had met my true soul
mate or at least my twin—give or take a
few years and different parents. Well, he
looked like I usually look: grubby, well-
worn boots, dirty fingernails and all.
I was sitting in his office, chatting
on and off the record with David
James, founder of Greenleaf Industries.
David, a very modest man, asked that I
talk more about Greenleaf than about
him. I protested, saying, “But David,
I interviewed you.” He insisted that
Greenleaf is what is important and what
needs to be written about. Actually,
David and Greenleaf are difficult to
separate. So to oblige David, this article
intertwines the man, the business and the
genesis of them both.
Greenleaf Industries states in
its brochure that it “is a nonprofit
organization serving as the Northwest’s
largest horticulture training center
p r ov i d i n g q u a l i t y t r a i n i n g a n d
employment opportunities for men
and women who have developmental
disabilities (DD). Greenleaf has become
an admired model opening new horizons
for the DD population within our
community.”
David said, “My entire life has
been about happenings, a journey of
coincidences. I was waiting for a bus and
I missed it and just happened to meet
this guy. He turned me on to the next
‘thing.’ My life has been a good ride.”
David has a great sense of humor, focus,
direction and kindness.
After receiving a degree in
agriculture from Chico State, David
moved to Williams, Oregon. In 1977
he took his first job with the agricultural
extension office in Grants Pass, helping
people work in their own gardens. At the
same time, his mission clearly was already
on a path as he began a 4-H community
project for the DD population. David
mentioned that he had no idea he had
the easy ability to work with the DD. He
did and still does.
In 1980, he received a HUD
community block grant that funded the
beginnings of Greenleaf. The City of
Grants Pass furnished the land back
then. It was next to a sewage plant where
Greenleaf remained for 14 years. They
moved to their current site in 1995. The
primary workers at Greenleaf consist
of 21 DD adults. David said that as a
social service program they not only try
to be productive, but also to maintain
very high standards. “We have so many
different abilities; we use the strength
of everyone to bring out their best.
This is like family here: birth, marriage,
death.”
Much of the following is
from the Greenleaf web site (www.
greenleafindustries.org) and reprinted
because of David’s pleading to write
more about the business.
“In 1982 the Greenleaf staff
wanted to reward its DD workforce for
a job well done and decided to organize
a camping trip to the coast. It was an
instant success and the Greenleaf retreat
has become a ‘much-looked-forward-
to’ annual event, a four-day getaway
and reward to our employees for their
dedicated service.”
Greenleaf strives to be a self-
reliant program. “Over 94% of our total
operating budget is generated through
plant sales or related services. Our
nursery produces over 2.5 million plants
including over 300 varieties of flowers
and vegetables.”
Greenleaf is “dedicated to
improving the quality of life for those
with disabilities…” In that vein, their
community gardens contribute to
feeding the area’s homeless! How is that
for the old saying, “I was sad because I
had no shoes until I saw a man without
any feet”?
Greenleaf is a model of excellence
for more than just producing an excellent
product at a fair price. It is a model for
allowing a person to achieve, before
judgment, their best potential. David
James himself—although his great
modesty will protest—is a visionary
without an ego. David is in tune and in
touch, and continues to walk on a path as
a leader with an untethered mission.
Sioux Rogers • 541-846-7736
Photos above: Greenleafers gather last
summer at the completion of the Greenleaf
Garden, which was funded in part from a
grant from the 4-Way Community foundation
and was designed and built by “volunteer
extraordinaire” Ron Willing. The raised bed
gardens are used by Greenleaf’s 4-H Club to
grow flowers and vegetables.
O H , C OUNTRY L IFE !
O
h, country life! A million things to do, always a million things. And
so many that never get done; like the ironing—that pile of shirts
has been sitting on the dryer for months . . . .
Those pretty bedding plants we bought last week are still languishing
in their little plastic pots, growing more root-bound by the minute. They
mutely plead for release; but I cannot look at them as I walk by, past the
half-weeded flower garden, on my way to water the hens, and clean up what’s
left of the chicken feed that the raccoons knocked over last night, before
the squirrels and the wild birds eat it all for breakfast!
The weeds in the veggie garden keep coming back. I spent hours
weeding yesterday, but the little weeds come up so much faster than the
seeds I planted, and the wild morning glories have major roots lurking
somewhere down deep in the dark. No matter how many I pull, they keep
sending up new shoots.
My dog Nick has his ball, he’s whining by the garden gate—I call, “Not
now, Nick!” and notice another big clump of bindweed, smugly spreading
out its skirts to sun itself in the lettuce patch that was weed-free just days
ago. And look—the cat has rearranged the carrot seedlings. Again.
The rosy headed finch just dive-bombed me for walking by the spruce
tree. No wonder. I can hear chirping—her babies have hatched. At least
something has gotten accomplished around here. Now she starts the big
race to bring them enough food fast enough. “Cheep, cheep, cheep!”
The bird feeder needs filling, and I trip in the giant hole the dogs have
dug, looking for gophers. Where did we put the gopher traps? Where is my
husband when I need him? He was planting those new apple trees, but the
neighbor’s bull escaped, and he rushed off to help. . . .
The phone is ringing as I walk in to get a cool drink. It’s my friends,
calling from the city. They want to take a break from their hectic life and
slow down in the quiet country of the Applegate. Should I tell them to bring
kneepads and work gloves along with their pretty sun hats?
Anny Zweifel • 541-846-0685