DENNIS WEAVER
the region’s foremost ecolonomist

It’s Sunday, a sunny day with the smell of spring in the air. We’re in the "Earthship," an interesting concoction of old tires and aluminum cans rammed into the hillside and covered with adobe. The finished product, nearly 10,000 selfsustaining, energy-efficient square feet, is surprisingly cozy and attractive. Dennis and Gerry Weaver live here.

"When you write about Gerry and Dennis," Gerry calls out, "remember Dennis is always closest to Weaver." Gerry has been keeping an eye on my notes.

A bundle of energy about the size of half a minute, Gerry zips around her purple kitchen in kid-sized jeans and jacket, then stops a moment to pluck several plump tomatoes from the inside window garden. (Both Weavers are vegetarians; the tomatoes will go on the dinner table.)

Where Gerry is raw energy, Dennis is control. Slim as a wand from daily exercise, clear-eyed and balanced from daily meditation and prodigious reading, Dennis has a powerful presence. After four decades on screen and stage, he has mastered the use of muscle and bone. Every move he makes, the turn of his head, the motion of his hand, the way he crosses a room—head high, eyes straight ahead, booted feet silent on the tan, tile floor—is deliberate, yet so natural he seems unaware of his command of the room. Dennis uses his lean body well, is imminently, intimately comfortable with it. He controls his verbal presentation equally well. When he speaks, his voice is surprisingly gentle. With each clearly enunciated word memories of him as Chester, or McCloud, flood the room. No prop or set is needed to take him from this place to another. It’s a neat trick; I am envious of that ability to shift time and space.

The room where we sit to begin our visit fits him. To the south, beyond an inside garden of riotous geraniums and king-sized vegetables, towering mountains leap toward the encompassing sky. Immediately above us, ferns the size of small forests burst from the railing overhead. The space is open to the balconied area above where bedrooms, bathrooms, the well-used exercise room—both Gerry and Dennis are in excellent physical condition— and the "formal" entrance nobody ever uses parade along the home’s sustaining hillside.

While Gerry bustles, she calls comments to me—Gerry is the family historian; she knows more about Weaver’s personal and public history than anybody. Gerry is also talking tomatoes with Alice Billings, who has been the Weavers’ personal assistant for over 24 years. Alice shuffles through papers, asking questions, making notations for Monday’s "in-basket" and of course, admiring the tomatoes.

Meanwhile, Dennis settles in on a curved, built-in sofa the color of a pumpkin. The plants at his feet grow right from the ground. Behind him, a "beehive" fireplace faced with purple ceramic tiles is set up for an evening fire. Gerry’s favorite color is purple and there is plenty of it in the Weaver’s attractively decorated home which combines natural materials, lush plantings and an eclectic collection of western art. (Near the entrance to the outside deck, a personalized, colorful painting by John Nieto illustrates a poem written by Dennis.) The solar-heated air is warm and crisp—very pleasant to breathe. No wonder the ferns flourish! Outside, several curious llamas peer up toward the house, wondering what we’re doing as we settle in for our visit. Out at the pond, two male geese are engaged in a noisy, day-long battle of supremacy. Periodically they take a swimming break, then they’re back at it again. Over their heads, the impressive Mt. Sneffels, still wearing her necklace of winter snow, pokes her head into the spring sky. It’s a good day for an interview.

Dennis Weaver is a paradox, a very private person with a distinctly public consciousness. His aversion towards business lunches and dinners is an open secret among his associates. Yet he has marshalled his considerable resources to help feed the hungry. He and Gerry spend up to an hour every day in his specially built meditation room, and he speaks publically to college and business audiences all over the country.

From his Emmy-winning role as "Chester" on Gunsmoke to his current involvement with his recently founded Institute of Ecolonomics, Weaver, has always stood up for the "little" man. His group, LIFE, (Love Is Feeding Everyone) that he and Gerry co-founded (with Valerie Harper and her husband), supplies supplemental food to nearly 200,000 folks in Los Angeles everyday. He has been honored by Haven Hills, a home for battered women and the Pacific Lodge Boys Home and CARE. In 1990 he received humanitarian awards from the Inside Edge and the Hollywood Women’s Press Association. In 1992 he delivered his now famous McCloud Senate speech as part of the preparatory conference for the United Nation’s Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED). He served as president of the Screen Actor’s Guild and as Lay Minister of Self Realization Fellowship Lake Shrine Temple. Several "Man of the Year" awards came his way and he received two honorary Doctor of Humanities Degrees. He and Gerry joined the president of the United States in 1994 for Earth Day opening ceremonies of the "Greening of the White House." Weaver’s Institute of Ecolonomics, runs right out of Ridgway, Colorado, just 37 miles from Telluride. He hands the reins of a sustainable planet right back to the folks most able to accomplish it — us.

A man of action as well as thought, Weaver lives his words. The grass does grow under his feet—and he makes sure it stays green!

The man is clearly a believer. Never caught up in "Hollywood," he conquered as a young man and continues to hold spellbound even today, a firmly charted course; a course of helping and looking-out for others. Look at his most famous roles — Chester and McCloud. Both characters were care-takers. Over the years, all Weaver’s roles, often times controversial, always powerful, show a strong sense of social consciousness. In Bluffing It,Weaver confronted the painful issue of adult illiteracy. He played an addict in Cocaine, One Man’s Seduction. (Both films are still being played in literacy schools and drug rehabilitation programs all over the country.) His soon-tobe- released film, Escape From Wildcat Canyon, addresses —and resolves— problems confronted by a dysfunctional family (grandfather, father and son).

As a man, an actor, and an activist, Dennis Weaver holds fast to his passion in creating a better world; a sustainable world that will be here for future generations.

That passion began at home. From the time he was a youngster, traveling with his family at harvest time to pick fruit, Weaver was been concerned about helping others combat hunger. He also knew he would one day be on the stage — not an easy choice for someone growing up in conservative, rural Joplin, Missouri.

Like the strong, warm earth that holds up his house, Weaver’s personal foundation — helping others, acting and holding fast to his beliefs — has served him well for more than half a century. Once committed, Weaver stays committed.

For a shining example, look at Gerry Weaver. From the moment they met (in college, in Joplin, Missouri.), Weaver has loved this lady. They have been married for 53 years. Gerry is very much a part of what Dennis Weaver is all about.

The Weavers have three sons, Rick and Rob (both in Los Angeles) and Rusty, in Ridgway. Two of them, like their mother, have perfect pitch. All of them, like their father, are connected to the entertainment industry. Rick is a producer—he produced the television series, Magnum PI, that starred Tom Selleck. Rob, a digital whiz, leans toward directing, and integration of both worlds. Rusty is an entrepreneur and active musician. All of them are part of a very close-knit family.

On the day we visited, one of the Weaver’s grandchildren, six-year-old Travis, a fledgling basketball champ, called to announce he had "shot his first basket." His proud grandparents, who whenever possible choose ground over air, wheels over wings, drove to California to help Travis celebrate.

It was not an isolated trip. Dennis and Gerry spend a lot of time on the road. Whether it’s promoting the Institute, traveling to a new "gig," or just heading out to visit family and friends, they’re seasoned road travelers, comfortable in the environment they want so much to help perpetuate.

"The earth is a tremendous gift," Weaver says. "There is nothing else like it in the known universe. I want to leave it the way I found it." We are headed into a discussion of sustainability, a topic close to Weaver’s heart—and home; after all, the "Earthship" is an outstanding example of what we can do to protect our planet, once we make a commitment to do so.

Weaver warms to his topic, rocking forward in his chair, eyes dancing with enthusiasm. He’s doing that trick again, moving time and space. I’m caught up in a world where cars run on hydrogen and television is powered by the sun. Where gas comes from garbage (society’s newly discarded, not the bodies of long-dead dinosaurs) and is harnessed to create energy rather than expend it. As Weaver talks, I see tomatoes as big as a grapefruit, grown without pesticides, or pests, for that matter, and a home that is warm and well lit without a single watt of electricity generated by coal or oil. I can actually taste the water he’s talking about, fresh from a sparkling, clean clear stream. And the air— not a breath of smog in it! My car, (battery-powered, of course) will forever be shiny, never pockmarked from acid rain.

We’re already there—or here in the Earthship. It’s more than Weaver’s home; it also represents the foundation of his dream for a better world, a cleaner planet, and a saner, sustainable existence.

Dennis Weaver knows about sustainability. His enormously successful acting career includes one of the most popular roles in television history, that of Chester on Gunsmoke, TV’s longest-running dramatic series. But it’s more than stage and screen that ignites this man’s dream of perpetuity. It’s the hope of a thriving planet that will hold center stage in the universe for this generation and for those to come.

Gerry and Dennis began their crusade in earnest about ten years ago when they decided to move out of southern California. "Our middle son is a skier," Weaver explains. "When we said we were thinking about moving to the mountains, maybe Colorado, he suggested Telluride."

Obliging, the Weavers visited with a real estate agent. When they found out that the altitude precluded the extensive garden they hoped to cultivate, Gerry and Dennis followed the broker’s suggestion and looked a couple of thousand feet lower. Circling the spectacular Sneffels Range of the San Juans, they discovered Ridgway and a piece of land with surface water, a sit-down view of Mt. Sneffels and clean, green grass for the llama family they soon accumulated.

Originally, they planned to add on to the existing house on the property. "It was sort of the tail waggin’ the dog," Weaver laughs.

Then a friend suggested architect Michael Reynolds in Taos, New Mexico, who had been building "Earthships" for 20 years. Like a spaceship, these innovative structures function as independent sustainable living spaces that are not dependent on materials or energy sources that are destructive to our planet.

The Weavers met Reynolds and checked out his planet-friendly Earthships. They liked what they saw. "The more I thought about it, the more my interest perked," Weaver says of Reynolds’ Earthships. "Finally I said to Gerry. 'Honey, I’m jazzed. We’re going to build our house out of tires.’" It’s fun to be a little bit different in the world, to make a few new trails of your own."

A few months later, Weaver was out there with the crew, swinging a hammer, ramming tires into the solid walls that naturally retain heat in winter, coolness in summer. As their house took shape, so did the Weavers’ enthusiasm for building a sustainable environment. Their dwelling became the basement and building blocks for the Institute of Ecolonomics, non-profit organization Weaver founded.

"The premise is simple," Weaver says, explaining the philosophy behind the Institute. "Make green" technology economically attractive to business, and they will choose that alternative over more traditional methods." Putting his mouth (and his money) where his heart is, Weaver and the Institute have thrown their considerable weight behind businesses who use the new technologies.

Diving into his subject, Weaver waves his arms expansively. We are now in his office, the only room in the house furnished in denim blue. Behind him, I can see the shape of the hillside in the sparsely adobed wall. Tense with contagious enthusiasm, Weaver passionately defines his vision of an "Ecolonomic Revolution," a movement away from societal and industrial activity that is destroying our environment and threatens our economic future, toward behavior that nurtures and saves our environment while creating a sustainable economy.

"One economy and one environment," Weaver explains, "and they’re interdependent. The old saw, NIMBY (Not In My Backyard), won’t work anymore, because, believe me, we have only one backyard!

"Business must be the solution, not the problem," he insists. "Everything we do is through business; business has to change the way it does business, or we will make no significant changes in the way we relate to the earth."

Weaver believes the United States is poised to become the world leader in new environmental technologies. "We can show others how to create benign technology," he says. "It’s our job to show others how to get the goodies out of life without destroying it."

"'We have met the enemy, and they is us,’" Weaver concludes, quoting his favorite philosopher, the 1960s comic strip character, Pogo. "'We are surrounded by insurmountable opportunities.’"

Dennis Weaver, man of action and believer in the ingenuity and determination of human beings, has given us a challenge, a challenge to build a safer, saner, sustainable world. Still hot on his subject, Dennis Weaver winds up the interview with a ringing pronouncement more suited to the stage than this calm office in a serene setting.

"The ultimate solution to create a sustainable future," Weaver says, "is to shift mass consciousness away from hate, greed and fear towards peace, love, cooperation and justice. Changing mass consciousness is an individual responsibility."

Now it’s up to each of us to figure out how to meet that challenge and build a future that will endure.