By Anne Scheck
Faith Fitts showing livestock at County Fair They live on a thriving farm on the outskirts of town, but you might consider Joe and Abby Fitts remarkable for other reasons. The pair juggles demanding professional lives, too – he’s an accountant, she’s a lawyer – and they make it look as routine as Oregon rain.
Or maybe you’d see them as exceptional in another way – both forged successful military careers in early adulthood. It’s also likely you’d regard them as special for the family they’ve built with their three children.
As striking as these accomplishments seem, what may be most distinctive about this couple is their model of farming, which provides an example of how ties to multigenerational land are being sustained and maintained. If current agricultural business trends are a reliable guide, it could prove a wave of the future, and perhaps one way of helping to preserve family farms.
Joe Fitts returned to Independence more than a decade ago, to the very place where he’d grown up. However, his full-time farming ended only a few years later, when he became a certified public accountant. Along with his wife Abby, an attorney, the two now seem representative of today's emerging farm family.
In Oregon, most individual land ownership is associated with family farming, but without farmers like the Fitts family, that picture will gradually change. Eventually, more ownership by corporations and investors is likely, according to a recent investigation by Megan Horst, associate professor of urban studies and planning at Portland State University (PSU).
Though corporate take-overs have grabbed news coverage and are attributed to the decline of family farming, the story is more complicated than that. Often, family farms remain in the agricultural pipeline by being leased by other, much larger operations, sometimes neighboring landowners. This is what also has occurred with the Fitts farm.
In the next five years, nearly a fifth of all family farms are predicted to lose their main “operators” for age-related reasons. In fact, 17% of those who currently head family farms plan to retire by 2025, according to the US Department of Agriculture’s (USDA’s) Economic Research Services.
And, across Oregon, sole operators of farmland no longer dominate. Less than 45% of family farms now have one operator, compared with about half that now have two, and another seven percent include a third, according to Oregon State University’s (OSU’s) most recent report from the Center for Small Farms and Community Food Systems.
Five years ago, PSU and OSU teamed up with Rogue Farm Corps to take an in-depth look at Oregon family farming, and the researchers concluded by sounding a note of alarm that nearly two-thirds of Oregon’s agricultural land will pass to new owners over the next two decades. “How that land changes hands, who acquires it, and what they do with the land will impact Oregon for generations,” the authors warned.
Ensuring a healthy future for Polk County’s agricultural land is a top priority for the county’s board of commissioners.
Or maybe you’d see them as exceptional in another way – both forged successful military careers in early adulthood. It’s also likely you’d regard them as special for the family they’ve built with their three children.
As striking as these accomplishments seem, what may be most distinctive about this couple is their model of farming, which provides an example of how ties to multigenerational land are being sustained and maintained. If current agricultural business trends are a reliable guide, it could prove a wave of the future, and perhaps one way of helping to preserve family farms.
Joe Fitts returned to Independence more than a decade ago, to the very place where he’d grown up. However, his full-time farming ended only a few years later, when he became a certified public accountant. Along with his wife Abby, an attorney, the two now seem representative of today's emerging farm family.
In Oregon, most individual land ownership is associated with family farming, but without farmers like the Fitts family, that picture will gradually change. Eventually, more ownership by corporations and investors is likely, according to a recent investigation by Megan Horst, associate professor of urban studies and planning at Portland State University (PSU).
Though corporate take-overs have grabbed news coverage and are attributed to the decline of family farming, the story is more complicated than that. Often, family farms remain in the agricultural pipeline by being leased by other, much larger operations, sometimes neighboring landowners. This is what also has occurred with the Fitts farm.
In the next five years, nearly a fifth of all family farms are predicted to lose their main “operators” for age-related reasons. In fact, 17% of those who currently head family farms plan to retire by 2025, according to the US Department of Agriculture’s (USDA’s) Economic Research Services.
And, across Oregon, sole operators of farmland no longer dominate. Less than 45% of family farms now have one operator, compared with about half that now have two, and another seven percent include a third, according to Oregon State University’s (OSU’s) most recent report from the Center for Small Farms and Community Food Systems.
Five years ago, PSU and OSU teamed up with Rogue Farm Corps to take an in-depth look at Oregon family farming, and the researchers concluded by sounding a note of alarm that nearly two-thirds of Oregon’s agricultural land will pass to new owners over the next two decades. “How that land changes hands, who acquires it, and what they do with the land will impact Oregon for generations,” the authors warned.
Ensuring a healthy future for Polk County’s agricultural land is a top priority for the county’s board of commissioners.
County Fair entrants Vivienne (L) and Colleen (R), with prizewinning chickens When asked how they would rank the importance of family farms, all three – Craig Pope, Mike Ainsworth and Lyle Mordhorst – said they consider local agriculture a significant economic force and an integral part of the county’s identity.
There’s been a “steady shift” of production to much larger operations, said economist James MacDonald, visiting research professor at the University of Maryland in College Park, who has written extensively on family farm operations.
"We grapple with this," said Fitts, who is the oldest of four brothers. Leasing land seemed a suitable option, he said.
“That, of course, is quite common,” concurred MacDonald, noting land-leasing is a solution for many farm families. Asked whether outside income from off-farm work is becoming the norm, too, MacDonald stated: “I don’t know of any evidence of a growing trend of people continuing to farm the family’s land while pursuing primary off-farm occupations, although I’m sure it happens.”
The indication that outside income-earning is on the upswing comes mostly from work-related studies, not farm surveys. By 2016, about half of all farm families were shown to be insured through outside employment, according to the
Agricultural & Applied Economics Association, an organization that tracks agrarian statistics nationwide.
A more recent study, reported in the journal Rural Policies and Employment in 2019, documented that most small farmers now earn some of their income off the farm, while doing double-duty growing crops, livestock, or both. The exception: Older farmers, who clock far fewer hours in outside jobs, according to the USDA.
There are other growing approaches for delivering revenue to family farms: Paid hunting tours on farmland, admission fees for farm-sited fishing and boating spots, wine-tasting venues and overnight farm stays with recreational offerings like hayrides. These grew by 51% between 2012 and 2017, according to the latest Oregon Farm and Land Use Report.
But, despite a way of life that's undergone a sea change since his youth, Fitts considers the family farm an excellent way to raise children. "The biggest thing that farming taught me as a young person was, if you don't do something you need to do, it just won't get done." An alum of Central High School, Fitts joined the military after graduation in 1994. He thinks it's his early farming experience that created the path to a well-balanced life. Like the armed services, a farm teaches "you about accountability, about reliability," he said.
It's a lesson that's being passed on to his three children. The romantic notion of farming – getting close exposure to nature, getting exercise that confers a sense of accomplishment, too – is all true, he said. But perhaps that really isn't the most important aspect, he pointed out. His children have learned "there are lives in the barn that depend on them," he said. "Not only that, but with animals, there are tangible results that you can see from their good care."
All three of his children seem to have avoided some of the "temptations" of today's youth, such as spending excessive time on computer screens for video games or for social interaction, he said.
Fitts recalled that, when his son was in middle school, he went through an intense "X-box phase" that eventually he seemed to naturally outgrow. Farm-related activities, such as participation in 4H, led to an early maturity and "it was no longer his go-to recreation," Fitts recalled.
Fitts is far from the only advocate for a life that’s rich in the kind of rewards that cannot always be measured in a profit margin.
There’s been a “steady shift” of production to much larger operations, said economist James MacDonald, visiting research professor at the University of Maryland in College Park, who has written extensively on family farm operations.
"We grapple with this," said Fitts, who is the oldest of four brothers. Leasing land seemed a suitable option, he said.
“That, of course, is quite common,” concurred MacDonald, noting land-leasing is a solution for many farm families. Asked whether outside income from off-farm work is becoming the norm, too, MacDonald stated: “I don’t know of any evidence of a growing trend of people continuing to farm the family’s land while pursuing primary off-farm occupations, although I’m sure it happens.”
The indication that outside income-earning is on the upswing comes mostly from work-related studies, not farm surveys. By 2016, about half of all farm families were shown to be insured through outside employment, according to the
Agricultural & Applied Economics Association, an organization that tracks agrarian statistics nationwide.
A more recent study, reported in the journal Rural Policies and Employment in 2019, documented that most small farmers now earn some of their income off the farm, while doing double-duty growing crops, livestock, or both. The exception: Older farmers, who clock far fewer hours in outside jobs, according to the USDA.
There are other growing approaches for delivering revenue to family farms: Paid hunting tours on farmland, admission fees for farm-sited fishing and boating spots, wine-tasting venues and overnight farm stays with recreational offerings like hayrides. These grew by 51% between 2012 and 2017, according to the latest Oregon Farm and Land Use Report.
But, despite a way of life that's undergone a sea change since his youth, Fitts considers the family farm an excellent way to raise children. "The biggest thing that farming taught me as a young person was, if you don't do something you need to do, it just won't get done." An alum of Central High School, Fitts joined the military after graduation in 1994. He thinks it's his early farming experience that created the path to a well-balanced life. Like the armed services, a farm teaches "you about accountability, about reliability," he said.
It's a lesson that's being passed on to his three children. The romantic notion of farming – getting close exposure to nature, getting exercise that confers a sense of accomplishment, too – is all true, he said. But perhaps that really isn't the most important aspect, he pointed out. His children have learned "there are lives in the barn that depend on them," he said. "Not only that, but with animals, there are tangible results that you can see from their good care."
All three of his children seem to have avoided some of the "temptations" of today's youth, such as spending excessive time on computer screens for video games or for social interaction, he said.
Fitts recalled that, when his son was in middle school, he went through an intense "X-box phase" that eventually he seemed to naturally outgrow. Farm-related activities, such as participation in 4H, led to an early maturity and "it was no longer his go-to recreation," Fitts recalled.
Fitts is far from the only advocate for a life that’s rich in the kind of rewards that cannot always be measured in a profit margin.
Eden Olsen at Farmers’ Market On display and at auction at this past summer’s Polk County Fair were livestock and poultry that largely were raised by youth in the area. Despite the chilling effect of the pandemic at other fair events, such as exhibiting and vending, animal entries and 4H and FFA participation was as robust as any in past years, noted Tina Andersen, the county’s fair manager.
Even as the drought runs on, local farmers roll into Independence every Saturday, cheerfully calling out to each other as they set up their produce stands. At the Original Independence Farmers Market, in the Umpqua Bank parking lot, members of Polk County farm families toil for at least five hours in tents under a typically hot sun, selling vegetables, fruits, flowers and honey.
It’s hard work to be a vendor there, observed Marti Sohn, whose property, T.D.M. Acres in West Salem, includes fruit trees and herbs. But, for small farmers, the open-air marketplace is the best means of directly connecting with the community, she said. “The social part is so important,” Sohn stressed.
The visibility of this farmer-to-buyer selling is essential, too, said Carol Park, whose logo of Black Cloud Farm LLC – a trio of dark clouds floating at the center of a captain’s wheel – is now a well-known symbol of the farm, which is located west of Independence.
The farmers’ market also imparts a sense of helping fulfill nature’s cycle, said Eden Olsen of Lucky Crow Farm, east of Highway 99 in Monmouth. It’s exhilarating “being able to see the crop start, then grow, then end up in someone’s hands right here,” she said.
Over the past 18 months, as the pandemic persisted, the number of farms selling directly to consumers actually increased, noted Audrey Comerford, agritourism coordinator for the small farms program at OSU’s College of Agricultural Sciences.
Some farms that hadn’t done so before started offering community-supported agricultural (CSA) shares; Others added extra CSA shares to their existing ones, she said. Many farms reported that their sales at farmers’ markets were on track or better than in previous years, even as covid raged on.
Even as the drought runs on, local farmers roll into Independence every Saturday, cheerfully calling out to each other as they set up their produce stands. At the Original Independence Farmers Market, in the Umpqua Bank parking lot, members of Polk County farm families toil for at least five hours in tents under a typically hot sun, selling vegetables, fruits, flowers and honey.
It’s hard work to be a vendor there, observed Marti Sohn, whose property, T.D.M. Acres in West Salem, includes fruit trees and herbs. But, for small farmers, the open-air marketplace is the best means of directly connecting with the community, she said. “The social part is so important,” Sohn stressed.
The visibility of this farmer-to-buyer selling is essential, too, said Carol Park, whose logo of Black Cloud Farm LLC – a trio of dark clouds floating at the center of a captain’s wheel – is now a well-known symbol of the farm, which is located west of Independence.
The farmers’ market also imparts a sense of helping fulfill nature’s cycle, said Eden Olsen of Lucky Crow Farm, east of Highway 99 in Monmouth. It’s exhilarating “being able to see the crop start, then grow, then end up in someone’s hands right here,” she said.
Over the past 18 months, as the pandemic persisted, the number of farms selling directly to consumers actually increased, noted Audrey Comerford, agritourism coordinator for the small farms program at OSU’s College of Agricultural Sciences.
Some farms that hadn’t done so before started offering community-supported agricultural (CSA) shares; Others added extra CSA shares to their existing ones, she said. Many farms reported that their sales at farmers’ markets were on track or better than in previous years, even as covid raged on.
Christina Cheek “That is not to say this was the case across the board but, overall, our area did see this trend,” Comerford said.
Why the surge? Local customers “knew could get their locally grown and produced products at the markets in a safe and reliable way, even when the grocery stores had a hard time keeping items in stock,” she said.
Not everyone wants to sell what they’ve grown – some want to feed their family with fresh produce, straight from the field or garden. And they also want to can it, pickle it, freeze it or preserve it for use all year long. One of them is Christina Cheek.
Cheek lives on land next to other family members, just off Highway 51
near Independence. Her harvest may not be as large as theirs, but it comes loaded with memories and filled with history. From the trees in the orchard where she and her husband walk in the shade to the gathering of blueberries that their children eat while picking, the place is far more than the ground where a gang of voles currently has dug worrisome holes.
It’s a wonderfully different kind of home “where you can feed your family from what you grow where you live,”
she said.
Why the surge? Local customers “knew could get their locally grown and produced products at the markets in a safe and reliable way, even when the grocery stores had a hard time keeping items in stock,” she said.
Not everyone wants to sell what they’ve grown – some want to feed their family with fresh produce, straight from the field or garden. And they also want to can it, pickle it, freeze it or preserve it for use all year long. One of them is Christina Cheek.
Cheek lives on land next to other family members, just off Highway 51
near Independence. Her harvest may not be as large as theirs, but it comes loaded with memories and filled with history. From the trees in the orchard where she and her husband walk in the shade to the gathering of blueberries that their children eat while picking, the place is far more than the ground where a gang of voles currently has dug worrisome holes.
It’s a wonderfully different kind of home “where you can feed your family from what you grow where you live,”
she said.
Judge Monte Campbell in chambers Special section The Independent
Judge Monte Campbell Looks Back on Time at the Bench:
A Passion for Jury Trials, A Love of Parenthood, A Boyhood He Never Left Behind
By Anne Scheck
To anyone familiar with the background of Monte Campbell, who has served as a judge in the Polk County Circuit Court for more than a decade, the term “self-made” might spring to mind. Campbell grew up in circumstances that many would consider hardscrabble, as part of a working-class family in Southeastern Oregon. His first new shoes, a pair of squeaky-clean sneakers, remain a vibrant childhood memory. They were such an extravagant purchase for his parents that “it seemed like all the money in the world had just been spent on me.”
And that, Campbell explained, is precisely why the description of “self-made” doesn’t fit him at all. It wasn’t just his own efforts that propelled him through college and law school – it was those boyhood experiences, which taught him important lessons money can’t buy. Those early challenges enabled him to develop a solid work ethic, fostered an unshakable value system and instilled an internal compass that has served him very well, he said. And, according to others in the Polk County Courthouse, it has served the people of Polk County very well, too.
It’s a huge benefit for Polk County to have a judge like Campbell on the bench, whose roots give him keen insight on rural issues, said Craig Pope, chair of the Polk County Board of Commissioners. Additionally, “he’s always very straightforward,” Pope noted. “He is a straight shooter all the time,” agreed Polk County District Attorney Aaron Felton, who got to know Campbell when they both were young lawyers, often serving on opposite sides of a case.
“What has always struck me is how humble he is,” added Polk County Commissioner Lyle Mordhorst, who observed that, as an elected judge, Campbell has a record of accomplishment matched by relatively few in his profession.
As Campbell faces the months ahead, where some virtual proceedings may continue to replace in-person court, he looked back on that career – a career that took several surprising turns, beginning with farming, then onto a brief stint as a firefighter and, finally, as a law school graduate.
Growing up in rural Oregon, Campbell loved the outdoors. "As a kid, we had to figure out a lot of things for ourselves," said Campbell. He also learned a lot from sports, he recalled. Playing basketball taught him to take the shot when there was a good opportunity to do so, to pass the ball when the basket seemed just too far off, and when to quit. These proved great decision-making skills for life, he said.
His father, who initially worked as a lineman to support the family, eventually became a pastor and the family moved to Burns. Though he was deeply influenced by his father's commitment to religion, it was Campbell's grandparents -- migrant farm workers in the Klamath basin, who picked crops ranging from potatoes to peaches -- that Campbell credits with a lifelong affection for agricultural land. So, Campbell set out to be a farmer.
Like many members of his high school class, Campbell felt drawn to that way of life. In his early 20s, he rented nearly 120 acres – along with assisting his family on their much larger farm – in the hopes of becoming a success at it. After only a few years, he concluded it was a gamble he couldn't afford to continue, a profession that appeared unlikely to ever earn enough profit. It was only then that Campbell decided to seek higher education.
As he pursued college – first at Clackamas Community College and then at Oregon State University – he witnessed many of his former farm colleagues come to the same conclusion, abandoning their desire to farm, trying instead to find other ways to make a living.
It was this experience – putting so much time, money and hard work into harvests followed by low compensation – that ignited his interest in the law. He entered law school "with this idea of helping farmers when I got out," he said of his years at the Willamette College of Law. "That didn't really happen," he acknowledged. However, though he doesn't consider himself a "crusader," he remains passionate about property rights, he said.
He also is committed to what he considers a vital piece of American bedrock, the jury trial. He regards this as a direct way for citizens to participate in democracy, to exercise their constitutional right to become part of an important decision-making body. “How often does your government ask your advice and then follow it? In jury trials, we do this all the time. Our citizens make a difference in jury trials,” Campbell said.
Jury trials are considered so important to democracy that they are part of state constitutions, as well as the U.S. Constitution. Organizations across the political spectrum, ranging from the Cato Institute to the American Civil Liberties Union, fight to protect them. “The wisdom of our sages and the blood of our heroes has been devoted to the attainment of trial by jury; It should be the creed of our political faith,” according to Thomas Jefferson, who wrote those words more than two centuries ago.
Judge Monte Campbell Looks Back on Time at the Bench:
A Passion for Jury Trials, A Love of Parenthood, A Boyhood He Never Left Behind
By Anne Scheck
To anyone familiar with the background of Monte Campbell, who has served as a judge in the Polk County Circuit Court for more than a decade, the term “self-made” might spring to mind. Campbell grew up in circumstances that many would consider hardscrabble, as part of a working-class family in Southeastern Oregon. His first new shoes, a pair of squeaky-clean sneakers, remain a vibrant childhood memory. They were such an extravagant purchase for his parents that “it seemed like all the money in the world had just been spent on me.”
And that, Campbell explained, is precisely why the description of “self-made” doesn’t fit him at all. It wasn’t just his own efforts that propelled him through college and law school – it was those boyhood experiences, which taught him important lessons money can’t buy. Those early challenges enabled him to develop a solid work ethic, fostered an unshakable value system and instilled an internal compass that has served him very well, he said. And, according to others in the Polk County Courthouse, it has served the people of Polk County very well, too.
It’s a huge benefit for Polk County to have a judge like Campbell on the bench, whose roots give him keen insight on rural issues, said Craig Pope, chair of the Polk County Board of Commissioners. Additionally, “he’s always very straightforward,” Pope noted. “He is a straight shooter all the time,” agreed Polk County District Attorney Aaron Felton, who got to know Campbell when they both were young lawyers, often serving on opposite sides of a case.
“What has always struck me is how humble he is,” added Polk County Commissioner Lyle Mordhorst, who observed that, as an elected judge, Campbell has a record of accomplishment matched by relatively few in his profession.
As Campbell faces the months ahead, where some virtual proceedings may continue to replace in-person court, he looked back on that career – a career that took several surprising turns, beginning with farming, then onto a brief stint as a firefighter and, finally, as a law school graduate.
Growing up in rural Oregon, Campbell loved the outdoors. "As a kid, we had to figure out a lot of things for ourselves," said Campbell. He also learned a lot from sports, he recalled. Playing basketball taught him to take the shot when there was a good opportunity to do so, to pass the ball when the basket seemed just too far off, and when to quit. These proved great decision-making skills for life, he said.
His father, who initially worked as a lineman to support the family, eventually became a pastor and the family moved to Burns. Though he was deeply influenced by his father's commitment to religion, it was Campbell's grandparents -- migrant farm workers in the Klamath basin, who picked crops ranging from potatoes to peaches -- that Campbell credits with a lifelong affection for agricultural land. So, Campbell set out to be a farmer.
Like many members of his high school class, Campbell felt drawn to that way of life. In his early 20s, he rented nearly 120 acres – along with assisting his family on their much larger farm – in the hopes of becoming a success at it. After only a few years, he concluded it was a gamble he couldn't afford to continue, a profession that appeared unlikely to ever earn enough profit. It was only then that Campbell decided to seek higher education.
As he pursued college – first at Clackamas Community College and then at Oregon State University – he witnessed many of his former farm colleagues come to the same conclusion, abandoning their desire to farm, trying instead to find other ways to make a living.
It was this experience – putting so much time, money and hard work into harvests followed by low compensation – that ignited his interest in the law. He entered law school "with this idea of helping farmers when I got out," he said of his years at the Willamette College of Law. "That didn't really happen," he acknowledged. However, though he doesn't consider himself a "crusader," he remains passionate about property rights, he said.
He also is committed to what he considers a vital piece of American bedrock, the jury trial. He regards this as a direct way for citizens to participate in democracy, to exercise their constitutional right to become part of an important decision-making body. “How often does your government ask your advice and then follow it? In jury trials, we do this all the time. Our citizens make a difference in jury trials,” Campbell said.
Jury trials are considered so important to democracy that they are part of state constitutions, as well as the U.S. Constitution. Organizations across the political spectrum, ranging from the Cato Institute to the American Civil Liberties Union, fight to protect them. “The wisdom of our sages and the blood of our heroes has been devoted to the attainment of trial by jury; It should be the creed of our political faith,” according to Thomas Jefferson, who wrote those words more than two centuries ago.
Judge Campbell in court The “virtual” court, where hearings are conducted on screens or other electronic devices, is a concern to Campbell, who believes valuable information often is exchanged – sometimes unknowingly – between individuals gathered in the same room.
“Body language is different and more factual than spoken word,” he explained. “For example, how many times have you asked someone to do something, and they agreed but their body language registered a negative response?” he asked. This can be perceived through personal contact, “but we miss this on the phone, in texts or over the computer,” he said.
These unconscious expressions and gestures often surface more clearly in a face-to-face setting, he said. When questioned as to whether the criminal court system should go the "technological route," Campbell said that "there are just some things you can't do on a telephone, or over the computer."
A recent example: a phone conference in which all of the parties, including the attorney and his male client, appeared to have difficulty communicating. The man, allegedly in arrears on child-support payments, seemed unsure at times whether he was answering the judge or his own lawyer. Campbell had to identify himself in a way that probably never would have occurred in a courtroom, where it's obvious who’s at the bench wearing the judicial robe.
In Independence, Campbell became known – and highly regarded – for his stolid and sensitive demeanor throughout a painful trial that was widely followed by the community, resulting in the conviction of an Independence childcare operator's son for sex abuse. In the words of one Polk County resident familiar with the trial, "he was the best judge for the worst case ever.”
When lawyers come to Campbell to learn how to become better in the courtroom, he’s able to advise them based on feedback from jurors, who often identify what has been most valuable to them.
How does Campbell obtain that information from jury participants? At the end of every jury trial he asks two questions: The first is, “What can we do to make this a better experience for our jurors?” The second one is, “Is there any advice you would like to share with the lawyers?”
This follow-up process began after one particularly complicated case, in which some jurors told Campbell they felt they could offer commentary that might be helpful in the future. Since they had no place to write their observations, Campbell immediately set about changing that. “By the end of that month every jury room had a white board,” he recalled.
“Most of the time the jury is very satisfied with the process. However, there are several improvements we have incorporated because of the advice we got from jurors,” he said. “If you look on the walls in the jury room, you will see white eraser boards,” he added.
Campbell prefers to refrain from sharing very much of his own personal philosophy, which he considers a private matter. However, his views on parenthood are an obvious exception. He was married about 10 years before becoming a dad to his daughter and son, which he considers “the best decision I ever made,” even though he was a first-time father at 40 years old.
Early on in life, Campbell decided that shows of anger were pointless unless “you really need to show anger to actually make a point,” he said.
That’s a conclusion medical researchers reached more than 30 years ago, when a link between angry outbursts and heart-attack rates was established. In work led by Redford Williams Jr MD, professor of psychiatry and behavioral Sciences at Duke University, scientists showed that irate reactions over annoyances and irritations take a toll on the health of the person experiencing them, and not just the recipients of that anger. On the other hand, when anger is expressed and channeled into motivating important change, it can be beneficial, according to the studies.
Being a parent imparts a special kind of wisdom, Campbell stressed. Some parents may struggle with the growing autonomy in their children, but he wasn't one of them. “We allowed our children to make many of their own decisions, including which high school they wished to attend, even when those choices weren't the same ones I would have made,” he said. “They gained insight and maturity, and learned it was just another fork in the road of life,” he continued.
“Body language is different and more factual than spoken word,” he explained. “For example, how many times have you asked someone to do something, and they agreed but their body language registered a negative response?” he asked. This can be perceived through personal contact, “but we miss this on the phone, in texts or over the computer,” he said.
These unconscious expressions and gestures often surface more clearly in a face-to-face setting, he said. When questioned as to whether the criminal court system should go the "technological route," Campbell said that "there are just some things you can't do on a telephone, or over the computer."
A recent example: a phone conference in which all of the parties, including the attorney and his male client, appeared to have difficulty communicating. The man, allegedly in arrears on child-support payments, seemed unsure at times whether he was answering the judge or his own lawyer. Campbell had to identify himself in a way that probably never would have occurred in a courtroom, where it's obvious who’s at the bench wearing the judicial robe.
In Independence, Campbell became known – and highly regarded – for his stolid and sensitive demeanor throughout a painful trial that was widely followed by the community, resulting in the conviction of an Independence childcare operator's son for sex abuse. In the words of one Polk County resident familiar with the trial, "he was the best judge for the worst case ever.”
When lawyers come to Campbell to learn how to become better in the courtroom, he’s able to advise them based on feedback from jurors, who often identify what has been most valuable to them.
How does Campbell obtain that information from jury participants? At the end of every jury trial he asks two questions: The first is, “What can we do to make this a better experience for our jurors?” The second one is, “Is there any advice you would like to share with the lawyers?”
This follow-up process began after one particularly complicated case, in which some jurors told Campbell they felt they could offer commentary that might be helpful in the future. Since they had no place to write their observations, Campbell immediately set about changing that. “By the end of that month every jury room had a white board,” he recalled.
“Most of the time the jury is very satisfied with the process. However, there are several improvements we have incorporated because of the advice we got from jurors,” he said. “If you look on the walls in the jury room, you will see white eraser boards,” he added.
Campbell prefers to refrain from sharing very much of his own personal philosophy, which he considers a private matter. However, his views on parenthood are an obvious exception. He was married about 10 years before becoming a dad to his daughter and son, which he considers “the best decision I ever made,” even though he was a first-time father at 40 years old.
Early on in life, Campbell decided that shows of anger were pointless unless “you really need to show anger to actually make a point,” he said.
That’s a conclusion medical researchers reached more than 30 years ago, when a link between angry outbursts and heart-attack rates was established. In work led by Redford Williams Jr MD, professor of psychiatry and behavioral Sciences at Duke University, scientists showed that irate reactions over annoyances and irritations take a toll on the health of the person experiencing them, and not just the recipients of that anger. On the other hand, when anger is expressed and channeled into motivating important change, it can be beneficial, according to the studies.
Being a parent imparts a special kind of wisdom, Campbell stressed. Some parents may struggle with the growing autonomy in their children, but he wasn't one of them. “We allowed our children to make many of their own decisions, including which high school they wished to attend, even when those choices weren't the same ones I would have made,” he said. “They gained insight and maturity, and learned it was just another fork in the road of life,” he continued.
Past County Circuit Judges "You can guide their decision-making, but at a certain point, children need to make their own decisions. If they are not allowed to make decisions on their own, they will be challenged as young adults without the skills they need,” he added.
In fact, Campbell has come to regard those proverbial forks in the road simply as options, not tracks that lead to a positive or negative result.
"I believe there are no right or wrong answers at many of these crossroads, they just lead you to different places." he said.
He considers his own young adulthood as just such an example. He took a fairly long path to his current job. "Yet, here I am, from farmer, to firefighter, to lawyer, to judge," he said. The back wall of his courtroom seems to underscore that observation. There, photographic portraits of past county circuit judges are on display, showing him as a recent member of a very small group, in a gallery that goes back to 1845.
(Editor’s Note: This is the second in a planned series on individuals at the center of Polk County’s Justice and Court System.)
In fact, Campbell has come to regard those proverbial forks in the road simply as options, not tracks that lead to a positive or negative result.
"I believe there are no right or wrong answers at many of these crossroads, they just lead you to different places." he said.
He considers his own young adulthood as just such an example. He took a fairly long path to his current job. "Yet, here I am, from farmer, to firefighter, to lawyer, to judge," he said. The back wall of his courtroom seems to underscore that observation. There, photographic portraits of past county circuit judges are on display, showing him as a recent member of a very small group, in a gallery that goes back to 1845.
(Editor’s Note: This is the second in a planned series on individuals at the center of Polk County’s Justice and Court System.)
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