Growing up, my family often passed through the now-defunct Concourse A at Portland International Airport (PDX). The hub for regional flights on smaller aircraft, “A” was tucked out of the way and not spacious, described using terms such as “windowless cave”. But I regarded the place with fondness. Even an unremarkable doorway becomes a magic portal when there’s something worth getting excited about on the other side, and the occasional airplane trip can be just that, especially when you’re a kid.
Among the various things that I remember from time spent sitting in low chairs in the big multi-gate room at the end of the concourse: families and business travelers waiting in close-quarters limbo, newspapers everywhere, PDX’s classic carpet…and a little stand called Coffee People.
This was well before I began drinking coffee myself–then filed under boring adult things–so I likely wouldn’t have paid attention to this place if it weren’t for the iconography: big friendly font, a simple, bold color scheme, and especially the image of a man and a woman in the center of the logo. In black and white like an old newspaper photo, caught in a casual yet gently-wired pose, I probably would have described them as “quirky” back then. Or maybe as hippies, had I known of their affinity for tie-dyed shirts.
Who was this couple? Were they the coffee people, or was the reference to the customers? Pulling from the cultural perspective that I’ve picked in the interim, the best descriptive word for them now seems obvious: Portlanders.
Years later, having moved to the Portland area myself, I walked through the doors of an establishment called Jim & Patty’s Coffee, from its signage very evidently some evolutionary-related form. I ordered a decadent iced mocha topped with a mountain of whipped cream, because it had been a long day. The drink was wonderful, and a fan was made of me. But now this:
Today, then, marks the final operating day of Jim & Patty’s Coffee, indeed part of the Coffee People lineage. From what I can tell, Jim & Patty’s operated as many as 4 or 5 shops. Coffee People itself–a separate business entity–had once operated many times more. My longtime curiosity finally gave way to some learning recently, spurred by news of the chain’s struggles. (In short, the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, along with the strain of Jim’s declining health prior to his passing last year, led to financial trouble from which the business was unable to recover.) The history is a colorful read; as for the big points:
- 1973, Eugene, Oregon: Jim and Patty Roberts get into fresh-roasted coffee beans, and into the coffee business themselves at the local farmer’s market.
- 1976: They buy the Portland location of pioneering roaster Coffee Bean Coffee Company (then in a downturn) and turn it into Coffee Man.
- 1983: After some time living on the coast, they return to Portland and open Coffee People.
- 1990: Motor Moka, often referenced as the first coffee drive-through, opens. Over 40 locations will be in operation between Coffee People and Motor Moka at their collective height of business success.
- 1996: Coffee People goes public and attempts expansion in a bid to become a national competitor to Starbucks. The expansion fails and not long after, the Roberts sell and move to Texas.
- 2002: After an unsuccessful barbecue venture back in Portland, and now free from a non-compete clause, they launch Jim & Patty’s Coffee, keeping many hallmarks of their prior business.
- 2007: All but 5 of the remaining Coffee People restaurants—which had kept the name in spite of being owned by a series of other companies since the Roberts’ exit—close.
- 2016: Coffee People’s final 2 locations at the PDX airport close for good. Here is a lovely blog post written at the time.
- 2023: Jim Roberts passes away at age 74. He is memorialized as a “Portland coffee legend”.
They (Jim & Patty’s) were down to two locations in the end. The memories I formed over recent years were of uncommonly “human” feeling coffee shops: the drinks, the food items, the blackboard menus, a comfortable energy that is often lacking in an industry where fashionable minimalism seems to have largely displaced coziness. The longtime slogan was “Good coffee. No backtalk”. I didn’t know what that meant, but I found it compelling–a sense that an establishment has its own mythology stretching just a little beyond your understanding, there’s charm in that. But enough talk, best cut to some pictures:
A heck of a fifty-year saga. May your coffee hit the spot! ☕