RIP Mr. Jarvis

[Everythingbutwings]

Of the thousands of people on COTH, few of you would have had the pleasure of knowing Martin B. Jarvis, Sr.

I was one of the lucky ones. Mr. Jarvis passed away a few days ago, after a long, full life. He survives in my heart in many memories.

I first met him in early summer 1970 when I was 13. My parents were building a house on Gunston Road in Lorton and my sister and I were out raking up grass hay that the VDoT had cut along the road across from our house. Mr. Jarvis came by, out for a ride on his beloved gelding, Smokey. This was a magnet for me, horse crazy kid! Mr. Jarvis introduced himself and welcomed us as neighbors, inviting us and our family to come on down the road to visit anytime we wished. He asked what we were doing and I eagerly told him we were gathering hay because our dad had promised to take us to Chincoteague that summer to buy a pony.

What a wonderful offer for two kids in, what was then, the countryside with no one nearby to play with but surrounded by woods and fields! Over the years, we took advantage of that invitation and got to know him and his family very well.

I watched his farm grow from a four stall shedrow barn with two horses and a bunch of cows to a full fledged boarding stable. His home based construction company grew at the same time and he was always busy going to job sites or doing chores around the farm, usually including me and my friends.

We were all included in the Jarvis family gatherings and his home was a starting place for many a local area group trail ride.

Most of the land on our little peninsula (Masons Neck) was owned by the various park authorities now so visible but weren’t developed back then. We had thousands of acres of woods and trails to explore. Mr. Jarvis showed me long unused logging roads and where to ride across the mouth of creeks that empty into Belmont Bay to loop around back through what is now the BLM property at Meadowood. (Back then, Meadowood was just an old abandoned farm with fields full of scrub cedar trees and daffodils gone wild).

My friends and I accompanied Mr. Jarvis to cattle auctions and on drives out to Delaplane for truckloads of hay. We (don’t look Y2K moms!) rode in the raised bucket of his tractor as he spread flakes of hay across his pasture in the winter. One time, we rode in that bucket all the way to Colchester Marina as he towed his boat to be put in. In high school art class, I painted his beloved gray, Smokey and did another of his son’s palomino mare, Lady. Years later, I was touched to see that they had pride of place on the wall in his stable’s lounge.

Through the years, Mr. Jarvis made a lot of friends. Neighbors, other local business owners, current and past boarders, vets and farriers. He was a genial man who loved his dogs and horses and family.

He couldn’t resist animals (which we put to a test on many an occasion) and finally had to put up a notice at the barn that random stray cats which appeared would be taken to the animal shelter. He had chickens that roamed freely, including an attack rooster that terrified small children and, later on, a pair of peacocks. The male was named Hank because it would scream “HELP HANK! HELP HANK! HELP!” from the roof of the equipment shed.

One summer, he decided he needed a pond so, out came the tractor and bucket and a pond was created. Being in the construction business, his stable was added on to over the years, not in a fancy, orderly way but one that sort of just grew randomly.

He took us out on trails where his kids used to ride and showed us where salamanders lived in streams and how to carve our horses names in the bark of young beech trees and watch the letters grow over the years. He had an old Postal Service 2 wheel drive, right hand steer jeep that he let me drive around his front pasture before I got my license and he taught me to drive the big tractor - not so much so I could help out but because he wanted to.

It was a happy, secure place to be a teenager in the 1970’s. Before Pohick Park and it’s pool and campground were built. When there was still a country store at the corner of Gunston and Colchester roads that we could ride our horses to for a soda in the summer break from school. Deposit on soda bottles (yes, they were glass!) was two cents each when his youngest son and I took Mr. Jarvis’ old pickup to cash in hundreds of bottles. My share was $14.92 - imagine my irritation about six months later when deposits went up to a nickle!

Bless you, Mr. Jarvis. You gave me night time trail rides and hot summer days swimming (illicitly) in Dr. Geshickter’s pond. You gave me spring apple blossoms in your little orchard and guinea hens that shrieked when we arrived. You gave me happy memories to share with my own son.

[ChocoMare]

What a sweet tribute to an, obviously, precious man. :sadsmile:

[Carolinadreamin]

What a beautiful testimony to an amazing life.

[mkevent]

What a wonderful tribute.

Your descriptions brought back many childhood memories.

Thank you.

Rest in peace, Mr. Jarvis.

[Everythingbutwings]

This photo was taken for an article written in 1974, not long after Pohick Bay Regional Park was finally opened to the public. Locals had been riding the land for years but, once it was officially opened, horseback riding was frowned upon. 30 or so neighbors and friends, local stable owners including Mr. Jarvis and the Majewski’s, who own Tamarack Stables, and their boarders all rode to the park manager’s office to request trail access.

My father got busy contacting the Fairfax County Board of Supervisors and the head of the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority and all our combined efforts got us a trail in Pohick Bay Park.

The article about the NVRPA came out in The Virginia Cardinal in May of 1974 and they wanted to cite the many recreational amenities available. They asked if Mr. Jarvis and I would appear for a photo op but the photographer didn’t get anything they particularly liked until we left to ride back home. This shot was taken as we were cantering along Gunston Road right before the turn to Mr. Jarvis’ farm. You can see the joy he got when riding his beloved Smokey.

http://pic100.picturetrail.com/VOL936/3762429/14951917/398790683.jpg

[Flashy_Gray_VA]

^^^ Look at you, dear lady!

Great tribute. Love the memories of NoVA from back in the day. What a blessing to so many horsey kids Mr. Jarvis must have been.

[Everythingbutwings]

Flashy Gray, that white mare is the memory that tied me and dearest Kennett Square together. We met through CoTH, then in “real life” at a local show where KS’s “precious pumpkins” were entered and got to talking about growing up in Northern VA. As our shared stories converged, I mentioned this “white mare I had back in the day that could jump anything and that I had sold…”

KS chimed in with “to my friend, Tina H, who loved her and kept that mare until the day she died!”

Another CoTHer, dear friend of KS and who also knew that mare, is who kindly let me know yesterday of Mr. Jarvis’ passing.

Small, small world, with so many wonderful people in it.

[JenEM]

ETBW, what a sad loss for you, and for the local horse community.

That’s a beautiful picture of the two of you! Living here now, it’s hard to remember that not so long ago, there were horses much closer in.

[Everythingbutwings]

After I had “grown up”, the Winglet’s sire and I moved to Pennsylvania, just outside of Valley Forge for several years. After a year or so, I brought my fledgeling son down on the train for an extended trip to stay with my family.

Since we had moved away, my parents had acquired a new neighbor, one with several horses. I made his acquaintance and he offered me rides while I was visiting so I tacked up a gentle chestnut gelding and swung my young son up behind me for a sentimental ride down the familiar trails. We made our way quietly down through the park to where the trail parallels Pohick Bay and stopped on a rise above the water. Looking around and then up at the tree tops, we spotted a resting Bald Eagle, which I was thrilled to point out to my son.

On our next ride, we made our way down Harley Road and up the white fenced driveway to Jarvis’. It made me so happy to be arriving there on horseback to introduce my child to the people who had helped to make my childhood so happy.

Years passed and I moved back to Virginia with the Winglet in tow. In 1988 I got a job in Newington, not far from where I grew up. My father kept me abreast of developments in the local area and, when I heard of a planned community meeting to discuss the impending land swap between the District of Columbia’s Lorton penitentiary and the developer who owned the Meadowood property, I decided to attend.

It was like a block party of old friends! I recognized so many people who had been there for our trail access fight and was thrilled to see Mr. Jarvis. I sat with him during the meeting and was amused when a “recent” resident (less than 20 years) mentioned his desire to “make sure the land stays the same as it has always been”. I pointed out that the pond and fields across the street from my parents house weren’t there when I grew up and mentioned that the only thing that was still the same was the topography and where the streams ran. I got a round of assent from the long time neighbors.

I recall that, when the BLM took over Meadowood and it was finally reopened to the public, taking the Winglet on a trail ride that wound behind Dr. Geshickter’s pond and Mr. Jarvis’ property to cross over the streams that brought us back up behind Belmont Bay. I hadn’t been allowed to ride there for over twenty years.

Several years ago, I was shopping in Lowes and there was Mr. Jarvis in the checkout line, a cart of building supplies before him. He looked the same, a bit older and thinner but that starched white shirt, string tie and cowboy hat that was his trademark was in place.

Less than a year ago, I ran into him at Booth Feeds in Lorton. He had aged but was still unmistakably the friend and mentor from my childhood, the good neighbor who asked after my mother and gave me a hug.

My most recent incident in “such a small world” was less than a month ago. Mr. Wings and I responded to an ad on Craigslist for oak fence boards out in Amissville. Not only was the place we had to go to pick them up only a few houses past where HN73 used to live, the man we purchased them from said that his family takes riding lessons at the Majewski’s son’s barn (Giles Run) and boards their horse with Mr. Jarvis. He promised to pass along my best wishes to Mr. Jarvis the next time he saw him. I hope that he was able to.

[laskiblue]

What a wonderful tribute to a fine man. I bet Mr. Jarvis and Smokey are riding the trails together again.

[2DogsFarm]

EBW:
You were blessed to have such a fine man a part of your life.
And you wrote a lovely eulogy.
Godspeed, Mr Jarvis.

[JSwan]

I’m so glad ETBW started this thread. Many of us are still in shock over his passing… though we all knew he’d been having trouble over the past few months. But he’d beaten Death so many times… we just thought he’d go on doing it.

Like ETBW, I grew up riding in the area, though not at Jarvis Stable. Every place I rode as a kid is gone. But there was a time, not so long ago, that we could ride our horses to the general store, (and it had hitching posts)we were all barn rats, and there were people like Mr. Jarvis who watched over us.

I came to know Mr. Jarvis in my 20’s, and the first thing I noticed about him is that he was always neatly dressed in slacks, shirt, cowboy hat, and bolo. In all the years I knew him, I never once saw him without his cowboy hat and bolo - and he never got dirty.

Mr. Jarvis had a no nonsense attitude, but underneath he was very sentimental and deeply compassionate about people and animals. Though he often teased us about spoiling our animals, he never failed to buy Suzy the beagle her daily Taco at Taco Bell. And the abandoned horse he took care of for over 20 years? Oh - he don’t eat much, Mr. Jarvis would say, as if the horse didn’t matter to him.

But we saw him pat that horse and talk to him every single day.

After I lost a horse, Mr. Jarvis let me work at the barn on weekends so I could pay off the vet bills. One day, I just broke down and told him I didn’t think I’d ever own a horse again - I couldn’t deal with the loss… and I wanted to give him the buckets and feed pan and other stuff so he could use them for another horse.

He just let me talk until I got it all off my chest. Then he said he’d hold a stall open until I brought a horse home. And that’s what he did… that stall stayed empty until I filled it with another horse. Mr. Jarvis knew me better than I knew myself.

Many folks will remember that we had a horrible winter in 92 or 93 - ice storms all winter. There were times we could not get to the barn at all - neither could the barn help. Mr. Jarvis was not a young man, and he had severe heart trouble. And there was a herd of horses trapped by ice in the lower part of a field.

None of us knew it at the time, but Mr. Jarvis saved that herd by himself. He took rope, a pulley and fabricated a rudimentary sleigh. Then he lowered himself, with hay, down the hill. The horses had water and shelter - but one horse had gotten stranded and was down in the ice. Mr. Jarvis - somehow - used the rope to help get that horse to shelter. After the storm broke and we could get out there - you could see a blood trail leading to the shelter - but it was from scrapes. The horse - and the herd were fine.

Other folks might have not risked their safety to tend that herd. But Mr. Jarvis - nah - he just cobbled something together and did what needed to be done. Never complained, rarely cursed, and you know - I bet he was wearing his cowboy hat and bolo when he did it.

Mr. Jarvis was fond of attending auctions. His purchases, ostensibly purchased for supper, had a way of becoming part of the barn’s motley crew of marauding poultry. One of these animals, an African Goose named Mr. Peabody, had a habit of goosing us when we picked our horse’s hooves. After fending off goose attacks, and nursing bruised butts, we complained to Mr. Jarvis and asked him to please do something about the goose.

Mr. Jarvis decided Mr. Peabody was lonely and got him a Mrs. Peabody. For years afterwards, no one could pick a hoof without having a spotter.

He also had some pigs. The pigs were let loose in the morning to clean up the dropped feed, which was ok unless you needed to clean a stall and there was a pig in there who Would Not Move. The pigs usually stayed in a small paddock with a doghouse. Sometimes the pigs would get into a fight in the doghouse and the whole thing would rock - with the pigs squealing bloody murder inside. Other times the pigs would try and enter or exit the dog house at the same time - and they’d get stuck in the door - squealing.

Peacocks flying down from roofs, goosey gooses, squealing pigs, dozens of horses, lessons, people coming and going day and night, showing, eventing, hunting, tempers flaring in the crowded indoor in the winter, the weekly “let the dogs loose to play in the indoor” night in winter, trails that were really old brick roads from the Colonial Era, riding at Gunston Hall, finding old stills from Prohibition, smelling the wisteria on Harley Road, riding through groves of mountain laurels- and always… Mr. Jarvis watching over us and smiling that lop-sided smile and shaking his head at the antics of his boarders.

There are people in this world who make a deep impression. Though you may never see them again, in some way they are always with you. For me, Mr. Jarvis was such a person. His experience, his wisdom, humor, support, kindness, generosity - I will miss them all. Goodbye, my friend. And thank you for everything.

[fivehorses]

Just reading both ‘older’ women’s comments about a time past is really heartwarming.
In some ways, we all have a Mr. Jarvis in our life, someone who has given us that hand up, or helped us to become the people we are.

I don’t know Mr. Jarvis, don’t live in VA, but both of you so eloquently describe in words that enable the reader to be there with you and share in those days of our youth.

Ironically, Lorton is my stop over on my way to SC. Recently they had a BLM mustang adoption and I thought, where in heck are they doing that, since the area seems so developed. I went and google mapped the place, and thought how lovely the area is once you go a bit further away from the hotel.

I think when you talk about how it was in your youth, what a lovely place to grow up.
ETBW, what a great photo of you and Mr. Jarvis.
You both are quite lucky to know such a horseman…they really don’t make them like that anymore.
Godspeed to you Mr. Jarvis, and happy trails~
thank you for sharing.

[FalseImpression]

Lovely reading your tributes.
I wonder if the family would love to read this… to find out that so many years later, you still think of him in such a warm way. I think it would be lovely to share it with them.
Thank you for telling us about your youth and experiences with such a great man!

[Horse_with_No_Name]

What lovely tributes EBTW and JSwan. I wish I had known Mr Jarvis and feel a bit like I did after reading your tributes.

Godspeed Mr Jarvis.

[Kryswyn]

As ever ETBW you have so eloquently described Mr. Jarvis and the Virginia of yesteryear that I felt that I knew him and lived there.

RIP Mr. Jarvis. You made a difference in so many lives.

[Everythingbutwings]

This was forwarded to me, from a message to his boarders sent by his grandchild:

Flowers are appreciated and I know some of you have asked if there is a charity that donations can be made to in Mr. Jarvis’ name. My Grandmother thought that donations to the BLM’s mustang rescue or Simple Changes would be really nice.

Simple Changes Therapeutic Riding Center

How appropriate, still helping out children and horses.

[FlashGordon]

Fantastic tributes… thank you both for sharing.

[see_u_at_x]

In 2004, I was looking for a barn closer to Alexandria to board my horse. My farrier suggested Jarvis Stables so I called and went to take a look. For various reasons, I ended up not boarding there. Now, a part of me wishes I had. From your wonderful stories, Mr. Jarvis reminds me a lot of my dad and like someone I would have really enjoyed knowing. My deepest condolences to everyone who knew and loved him.

[witherbee]

I agree with FalseImpression - these wonderful tributes would be wonderful for the family to have… Such vivid and heartwarming rememberances about someone who seems to have been an amazing mentor and just a really cool guy! I have one of those in my life that I have not reached out to in a while - I think I’ll send him a Thank You card…