YELM — Watching the Nisqually River run past the family farm, J.T. Wilcox said he can tell when the fish are running: The eagles lay off the farm's chickens and get back to feasting on salmon.
In his 14 years in the state Legislature, Wilcox, R-Yelm, has brought his knowledge of the land, its fish and wildlife, and common sense values from his family's farm to the job. On Feb. 28 he announced that he will not run for reelection in November. His term is up in 2025.
Wilcox finished with salmon at the center of his work, with a package of legislation that included a bill to dedicate $100 million every biennium to salmon recovery, and set aside an additional $50 million per biennium for habitat restoration projects to help the most at-risk salmon populations. Those bills did not make it, but a bill to study the effects of bird predation on salmon did.
That bill, to help lawmakers understand the nature and scope of a vexing predation problem, was a hallmark of the practical, results-oriented approach Wilcox became known for in Olympia.
His commitment to salmon comes in part from a deep concern for sustaining the fishing culture for all people in Washington.
Championing salmon issues came naturally to him as an outdoorsman, schooled by Nisqually tribal leaders now through two generations that if salmon are doing well, that is also good for people.
"To understand this fully, you have to understand his dad," said David Troutt, natural resources director for the Nisqually Tribe. Jim Wilcox, J.T.'s father, was a friend of the late Nisqually Indian leader Billy Frank Jr. The two met as neighbors in the Nisqually watershed, and the friendship they built still reverberates today.
Rep. Debra Lekanoff, D-Bow, another champion of salmon in the Legislature, said in the House she has appreciated J.T. Wilcox for his understanding of the importance of salmon. He carried the friendship that started with his dad into the next generation in his friendship with Willie Frank Jr., chairman of the Nisqually Tribe.
"This is a significant role, of him stepping into a place that deeply reaches his heart," Lekanoff said of the younger Wilcox. "It comes from the relationship that he and Chair Willie learned from their dads. Legacy matters. Those talks around the kitchen table matter."
With a laugh, taking visitors around the farm on a recent morning, J.T. Wilcox remembered when the Frank family first influenced his family: Billy Frank had evangelized to Wilcox's father about farming with salmon in mind. Then a teenager, Wilcox was charged with taking care of the fields at Wilcox Family Farms. And he was instructed by his father that he was going to have to do a better job of keeping their cows' manure out of the river, and to plant more trees.
The family sold the herd in 2008 to concentrate on raising chickens organically and cage-free, marketing eggs around the region. Wilcox said he has little do with the farm today, but is proud to see other family members still carrying on. Going since 1909, the fourth and fifth generations actively work 1,600 acres of farmland along the Nisqually River, in the foothills of Mount Rainier.
When he leaves the Legislature, Wilcox said he wants to work as a consultant with small- and medium-sized businesses on how to participate in politics in more ways than just writing a check. "Today you only have the extremists on both sides because people don't want to go to a few unpleasant meetings a year," Wilcox said. He hopes with his depth of experience in both business and politics, he can encourage more people to participate in public life. "I want people not to be afraid of their government."
In his time in Olympia, most of it spent in GOP leadership, Wilcox earned high regard for working with lawmakers on both sides of the aisle.
"I think J.T. is one of the finest, most ethical legislators that I know; he is a true gentlemen, a true farmer gentleman. He is honest as the day is long and if you shake his hand, it is gold," said Rep. Mike Chapman, D-Port Angeles. "He is about building relationships and breaking down walls."
That took many forms for Wilcox. He would invite his colleagues from both parties out to the farm for gatherings. He taught his seatmates in the Legislature afraid of saying the wrong thing "that it is OK to call Native Americans 'Indians,' " Wilcox said.
On the Legislature's last day this year, Wilcox as on all days started his morning on the farm, where Mount Rainier dominates the view across broad fields. Frost sparkled in the early morning cold.
Much as he loved it, at age 61, it was time to make a change, Wilcox said. Not that he didn't have mixed feelings. But now?
He won't have to walk into a public meeting and wonder, "I wonder who here hates me?" Wilcox said.
He was stunned, after the 2020 election, when people asked him if Loren Culp had really lost the election for governor (carried by Gov. Jay Inslee by a margin of more than 544,000 votes and 13 percentage points). "I said, 'Of course he did.' " Wilcox said. "And I can't tell you the wave of hate that unleashed." Threats poured in. He was worried not so much for himself, Wilcox said, but for the farm. He asked the county sheriff to keep a close eye.
He says he has been sickened by national politics, and worked hard to keep the focus on the other Washington here at home. He decided: "I'm going to be the best example I can be. That's one of [the] things no one else can control."
As a politician, he always tried to remember not what it means to be on top, but to be vulnerable. He took a life lesson from what it was like when he climbed Mount Rainier — and had to be led down the mountain a step at a time because he became snow blind. "I know what it is like to be totally helpless, and that can happen to you, and you will find yourself in the hands of other people.
"It was a good lesson about relationships. You should strive to be as responsible for yourself as you can. But you never know when that's not going to be possible."
He's already looking forward to what's next: spending as much time as he can with his dad, now 86. A new grandchild is soon on the way. He wants more time with his 6-year-old granddaughter, doing chores together around the farm. He wants to hunt. To fish. And this:
"I'm looking forward to having my own thoughts," Wilcox said.
