If you’ve ever strolled through Alexander Park in Chehalis and marveled at the towering trees, one person you have to thank is Justin Hofmeister.
Running his family business, Hofmeister Tree Service, it was often Justin’s job to fell trees. But his family will tell you his expertise went far beyond that.
“Anybody can cut down trees. But Justin knew how to care for trees,” his brother, Matthew Hofmeister, recalled this week.
And when city officials asked Justin to cut down an array of trees at the park — spurred by a near-disastrous collapse of one hollowed-out Cottonwood — Justin couldn’t do it. He spent his childhood playing in that park, and after a risk assessment (and a second opinion), he concluded the trees were perfectly safe to continue growing.
“So Justin just flat out told the city of Chehalis, ‘I’m not doing it. I refuse to cut these trees down and you need to leave them in place,’” Matthew said. “He eventually won that discussion.”
Justin, whose business serviced much of Lewis County, died last week due to complications after an epileptic seizure. A memorial was held Friday at Alexander Park.
Justin, who represents a fifth generation of Hofmeisters working with trees, was known to do business just off a handshake and his word. In 2017, after a major storm, he got a call from Mike Hagstrom, whose Onalaska home was crushed by a 90-foot tree.
“Justin had just finished doing a full days’ work … and he didn’t say ‘oh, let me see if I can schedule you in.’ He said ‘I’m on my way,’” Matthew said. “He worked well into the night to get the tree off and help that guy out.”
The Hofmeisters recall the 2017 storm as one of many examples of Justin’s passion for his work and community. Matthew described his brother driving around town and staring skyward, offering critiques when he noticed a poorly-managed tree. He would jokingly ask if his son, Nicholas Hofmeister, was responsible. The duo has been working together since Nicholas was 12.
As calls and support flood in from the community, the family is now fully realizing the extent of Justin’s impact.
The network of his business associates-turned-friends, Matthew said, is huge. “Which I knew, but I’m finding out now that it’s far greater than I previously understood.”
Justin’s mother, Pam Hofmeister, said the outpouring of love is overwhelming.
“I knew people loved my son. But I didn’t realize what capacity they loved him and respected him,” Pam said.
Justin was born in Centralia in 1976, and despite his scrawny stature, he began working in a lumber mill after high school.
Taking after his father, Jim Hofmeister, who still works for the family business, Justin quickly grew to love the work.
Last fall, Justin took his young sons to Mountain View Cemetery to volunteer his services. As Pam puts it, Justin “brought the big guns” to the volunteer event, cutting down limbs deemed dangerous in the unkempt cemetery.
The loving father is remembered for his goofiness, and tendency to puff out his stomach and impersonate characters from Austin Powers to get a laugh out of his loved ones. He’s also remembered for his truthfulness.
If you ask Pam, Justin’s honesty — or at least his inability to keep a secret — started young.
She points to the family’s beloved “Pres-To-Log story.” During Justin’s senior year of high school, Pam left for the weekend, warning her son not to light any fires. Upon her return, she knew something was wrong. Everything was immaculate, she recalls, save for the tiny burn holes all through the living and dining room. She called her son.
“I said ‘you get your butt home and you get your butt home now,’” Pam said, laughing.
The lie teenaged Justin spun was convincing: He put a Pres-To-Log in the fireplace only to have it inexplicably blow up. It must’ve been a quality issue, and he could have been seriously injured, he told his mother. The sympathy card worked, and Pam’s angry call to Pres-To-Log even resulted in a check from the company.
But while most teenagers would be ecstatic with their successful fibbing, Justin couldn’t keep the secret for much more than a month. Come Christmas, he sat Pam down and told the real story, which involved a high school party, a plastic vodka bottle and an accidental explosion.
Justin’s fiancée, Corea Clark, said that in a stroke of luck, a door-to-door vacuum salesman showed up that weekend. And the mischievous teen sweet-talked his way into an in-home demo, which ultimately saved the day.
The Hofmeisters still laugh at the story, but also see it as a testament to Justin’s honesty, which Clark says helped him become a successful businessman.
With Justin gone, Nicholas, 22, will likely take over the business, marking six generations in the field. Nicholas began working with his dad at the young age of 12, and remembers being annoyed by his father rattling on about how to do things correctly. He’d use spoons to create diagrams, he’d “take the scenic route” instead of the fast lane, as Clark puts it.
But when Nicholas began working under different companies, cutting down more difficult trees, he said he realized the wealth of knowledge his father imparted on him.
“We had way more good times than we butted heads. And when we did have good days, we kicked butt,” Nicholas said last week. “We did good stuff.”
While Nicholas is questioning whether he can fill his father’s shoes, his family has full confidence. His father’s network of friends and business partners have already offered to step in and help with jobs already lined up, and to offer support to ensure the family business’ success.
“I think we can do it,” Matthew said. “We’re going to do it.”
In addition to his sons Logan, Matthew and Noah, Justin is also survived by his step-daughter Madalynn Berens, of Centralia, stepmother Jenny Hofmeister, of Lacey, sister-in-law Rachel Hofmeister and nephews Timothy and Benjamin Hofmeister of Stuttgart, Germany.
A GoFundMe has been set up for Justin’s family and can be found at gofund.me/4cc0ee38.
