“… the absence of the wizard does not invalidate the spell.”
Jules bought The Jazzfarm in 1992. The deal came about through a series of fortuitous events – the neighbour (still our neighbour), the bank manager (owner of the property) and the Japanese yen.
After leaving the Royal Navy – air traffic controller / Falklands war veteran – Jules left for India. While there, bumming around on the beach, learning to play the guitar, harvesting hash up in the mountains, etc he heard of a cash opportunity busking outside the karaoke bars in Japan. Four years of flitting between India and Japan, and he had 1 million yen in the bank.
After the end of his first marriage and a tumultuous relationship with an Italian ballet dancer, he came to South Africa to bum off his father, who had been absent most of his childhood. Only to find that his dad had left for Singapore. Broke, save for the yen, he set about being a door-to-door salesman. Maths courses, Family Name Histories… remember those?
Fast forward a few years, and he used the yen to buy a 2.4 ha plot near Lanseria aerodrome. He took in a friend who was battling some demons, and they formed a “jazz” band called The Jazzfarmers. The name stuck long after the friend moved on and Sandra and Ross moved in. Through ups and downs, Jules clung to the property, selling Jazzfarm Chairs until the Chinese took over the concept. Sandra & Ross moved out, and Jules found what would be his ultimate passion, the movies.
Around that time, things were not so great up in the mountains of the Eastern Free State. After 5 thrilling years at Rustler’s Valley, I knew it was time to move on.
I met the legendary Frik and visited “the valley” for the first time at about the same time that Jules bought The Jazzfarm. Rustler’s Valley crept under my skin from the beginning and, after a huge fire and a sojourn overseas, I settled on the side of the mountain and dedicated my time to The Saucery – the restaurant at the end of the universe. Heady days indeed. I liken it to getting another university degree.
Jules happened to visit in the last days of my mountain utopia. The rest is history. I moved to The Jazzfarm and was working in the movies within a week. A new life had begun.
The meeting of our two worlds just worked. Jules & I set about building our Jazzfarm dream. Little by little we designed our world. For ourselves, for our friends. A community, of sorts, was born. Retreats and parties, crazy road trips collecting treasures, music and art, well-paying jobs and loads of love.
Then came the police. That story is part of another story and that night marked the spot where everything changed. The Jazzfarm became the epicentre of our activism to the point where, today, the place and the events are inextricably intertwined. The Jazzfarm became home to Fields of Green for ALL.
Welcoming guests from all over the world and travelling far and wide ourselves, it was (and still is) exhilarating, exhausting, frustrating and amazing, all at the same time.
Then Jules was murdered. 3 July 2020. Home invasion. I had to get to this part of the story. There is no glossing over. I can’t find the words myself so, in the words of Howard Zinn in You Can’t be Neutral on a Moving Train:
To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.
What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.
And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvellous victory.
Thank you for being part of The Jazzfarm family.
Myrtle