HIGH PROFILE: Charlie Coleman of Arkansas dairy dynasty follows in his father's footsteps

Carrying on his father's legacy by helping underprivileged children learn real-world values wasn't a difficult choice for Charlie Coleman. As board chairman of the Joseph Pfeifer Kiwanis Camp, a forested enclave in the rapidly developing Ferndale community in western Pulaski County, he likes being part of the effort to improve young lives.

"In the [Downtown Little Rock] Kiwanis Club, we have one project -- that project is the camp," Coleman said, while he filled his plate during a recent camp breakfast. "If you come out here a few times you just get addicted to it and develop a passion -- let me get a little more gravy -- you develop a passion for the people and the kids. You see the [success stories] of the kids who come back."

If it gives him one more opportunity to follow in his father's footsteps, that makes the effort even more worthwhile.

Summer camp was in full swing at Pfeifer. After raising the American flag and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, about 50 campers crowded into the mess hall for breakfast. Mealtime was awfully quiet, especially for a group of elementary school children, as they demonstrated the manners and discipline Coleman says are stressed at the camp. Hard work, honor, friendship, patriotism and wise choices are also emphasized.

Coleman and other Kiwanis club members addressed the campers, offering words of wisdom and life advice. Coleman spoke about the importance of lasting relationships.

"If you are going to build a relationship with someone you have to meet them first," Coleman told the campers. "I'm going to challenge you to meet everyone here at camp. Look at them in the eye so you'll remember them. You want to be able to say, 'I met so-and-so and his eyes were blue.' You'll recognize his face and remember his name. You'll be able to say, 'Hi, good to see you again. How can we help each other?'"

He paused and added proudly, "My daddy taught me that, and he's not going to let you down."

Charles Turner Coleman was born July 6, 1955, to Walter C. "Buddy" Coleman Jr. and Robbye Coleman. He was the third of their four sons and grew up aware they were Arkansas milk royalty, the family that had owned and operated Coleman Dairy on Little Rock's Asher Avenue since 1862.

He always thought that after college he'd end up working at the dairy with his father and brothers, but life opened a different path. Coleman became a lawyer, specializing in business law, especially bankruptcy, and he has done a fair amount of legal work for the family dairy. Since 1980, he has practiced with the Wright Lindsey Jennings firm in Little Rock, where he is a partner. His brothers -- Walt, Bob and Cherb -- worked in the dairy.

"I missed out on a lot," Coleman reminisced during an interview under a camp pavilion after breakfast, his eyes becoming red and nearing tears. "Walt and Bob and Cherb got to work with Dad every day. I missed out on that. I could have worked with them ... but I did OK. I did OK."

Coleman explained that his emotional nature is in his DNA, passed down from his mother. She died in 1984 at 56 of liver disease, brought on by alcoholism, said Walt Coleman.

"We weren't aware how serious the situation [with their mother] was until it was too late," Walt Coleman said. "It had a big impact on all of us."

Their father died in 2011 after a brief Alzheimer's bout, 15 years after selling the dairy.

Sanford Tollette, the longtime executive director of Pfeifer Camp, praised Buddy Coleman for being an early champion of civil rights in central Arkansas. He said Charlie Coleman clearly exemplifies the values taught and lived by his father, who was also a benefactor of the camp.

"I started working here as a staff member; I was the black guy cutting the grass," Tollette said. "Mr. [Buddy] Coleman would always find me and shake my hand and treat me with respect. Mr. Buddy gave me this opportunity to run this camp. I said, 'What about those in the club who don't want a black guy?' He said, 'We don't need those kind in here anyway.' Charlie is carrying on a legacy."

Tollette described Charlie Coleman as exhibiting much of the same compassion and knowledge as his father but with a "more refined" approach.

Coleman's infectious smile, coupled with a good-ole-boy knack of storytelling, is genuine, said Judy Henry, a longtime colleague at the law firm.

"That's just who he is," Henry said. "He's extremely modest and willing to give other people credit before himself. But you can't be fooled. He's extremely bright and has a very solid work ethic. Charlie handles the most complex of cases. He has the presentation skills and the ability to take complicated matters and make them less complex."

Part of Henry's job at the firm is reviewing community and volunteer work performed by the lawyers. "Charlie's list is unmatched," she said, citing also his work with Central High School and the Arkansas Repertory Theatre, as well as the Bible study classes he teaches and the church youth basketball teams he coaches.

"It's very apparent the love the brothers have for their family and for their mom and dad," she said.

Coleman likes to use the word "blessed" when describing his life, particularly his unique upbringing at the dairy. He knows how special living on the dairy property was. If milk trucks woke him up at 4:30 each morning, that was all right by him.

"We lived on a big farm inside the city," Coleman recalls. "We had 120 acres, 150 head of cattle, hogs and a hay barn. We didn't live in a neighborhood. We didn't have any neighbors. All we had were the people who worked in the dairy. God bless them. We'd come home from school and go out to the dairy. We try to help and do some work. Well, we thought we were working, but we probably just got in the way."

As a kid, Coleman idolized the army of blue-collar workers who toiled for the business run by his father.

"These were people who worked hard for a living," he said. "The men who loaded the trucks, these guys were solid as a rock. Some of them were just buff. Others were really big guys. All of them were really, really strong. I said, 'I want to be like them.'"

His father obliged, putting young Charlie to work stacking milk. He did other jobs at the dairy, including working in the paint shop scraping old paint off dairy trucks, and when he got older, driving a delivery truck. He readily admits he was given some of the choicer routes, in the Leawood and Heights neighborhoods of Little Rock.

"I don't know how I got the good routes," Coleman chuckled. "Somebody said I must have known somebody."

What was it like growing up on such a business complex as a son of the boss? Coleman remembers the dairy as being much more than just one family, but many families working as a team. His father encouraged a family environment and would often hire relatives of workers. Nepotism was definitely not frowned upon.

"One of the employees might say, 'Here comes that darn Coleman kid. I have to kiss his butt,'" Coleman said. "But I hope they didn't feel that way. Someone might say we were privileged, but, wait a minute, I would empty cases of milk in summertime in 95-degree heat, so that's not much of a privilege. But when you are unloading milk cases you are learning something."

The Coleman children had "free rein" at the dairy, but his father would designate certain employees to make sure they didn't get into trouble. A mechanic at the dairy would pick up young Charlie from kindergarten each day and go by the zoo on the way back to the dairy to let the youngster look at animals from the sidewalk.

Coleman gets emotional remembering the mechanic, who recently died.

"We would sing songs and look at the bears and foxes," he said. "That's blessed."

He also tears up remembering his father.

"He never met anyone he didn't like or didn't think he could like," Coleman said. "When we would go out to eat -- and we would only go someplace that served Coleman products -- he would work the room. He would say, 'Courtesy is contagious' and 'You can't have too many friends.' That's something I picked up from him."

His mother was known for carrying boxes of milk and juice to all of his youth baseball games and serving out of the back of her car. "You would not believe the people who still remember that and come up to me about it," he said.

Coleman graduated from Central High School in Little Rock before making his way to Fayetteville for the University of Arkansas.

He explains his decision to go to law school as stemming from a meeting he had with his older brother, Walt.

"We decided that [to help the dairy] one of us needed to go to law school," Coleman said. "Walt graduated and got an office at the dairy. I got through with college, and I kind of exaggerate here, I got through with school and said, 'Where is my office?' Walt pointed to a truck."

So Coleman went back to Fayetteville for law school, figuring he'd eventually come back to work at the dairy. But somewhere along the way he realized that if he really wanted to learn to be a lawyer, he had to learn from legal professionals. He was offered a position at Wright Lindsey Jennings in 1980 and has been there ever since.

Shortly after Coleman joined the firm, Bill Clinton, fresh off a loss to Frank White in the 1980 gubernatorial election, also joined the firm. Coleman didn't have much professional interaction with Clinton but recalls attending Halloween parties with the Clintons and other movers and shakers in Little Rock politics.

"It was pretty unique," Coleman said. "I've been blessed."

He said such connections in Little Rock would have been impossible if he had not attended UA. The university offered another benefit. He met his wife, Patti, there on a blind date, and they recently celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Patti teaches kindergarten at Episcopal Collegiate School in Little Rock.

The couple have two children, Charles Turner Coleman Jr., 37, who works in finance in Little Rock, and Arden Tolleson, 34, a homemaker in Jonesboro. They have four grandchildren.

All along the way, Coleman stayed connected to the dairy.

"I know he missed out," Walt Coleman said. "That was one of the reasons we tried to keep him as involved as possible. He was still one of the owners. We were a very close-knit family. Every family has their issues. You just have to huddle up and get through it. I've always been proud to say that Charlie Coleman is my brother."

Jim Faulkner, a longtime friend who coaches youth basketball with Coleman at Pulaski Heights United Methodist Church, said Coleman avoids the limelight.

"A lot of the things he does for people he doesn't get publicity for, nor does he want it," Faulkner said.

Coleman said he realized early on, perhaps from his experience in youth baseball, that he may not be the smartest or the fastest so he would have to make up for those limitations.

"In order to keep up, I'm just going to have to work a little harder," he said. "I haven't had any serious health issue. We all have bumps in the road. I've just been really blessed."

High Profile on 07/15/2018