Giving John Farris his justice

SANDUSKY — An upcoming documentary seeks to spotlight a late Sandusky man who experienced many unjust hardships, which derailed his career. Directors and producers involved with the film company known as Congreve Cube Entertainment continue to pursue work on an untitled project centering around John Farris' life. "Our team is driven by a deep commitment to storytelling, especially when it has the power to bring healing and closure," said Susan Wilder, the company's assistant director and line producer working directly on this project. "We believe every life has a story worth telling, and this project is an opportunity to help a family honor the man they love in a meaningful way," Wilder said. "Through our work, we hope to preserve his legacy, celebrate his impact and offer comfort to those who cherish his memory." This past month, the company began recording interviews at various city-based sites. This would include Sandusky High School and several prominent churches. Additionally, on March 16, the crew also traveled to Wright State University in Dayton where the Sandusky Blue Streaks boys basketball team competed in a state semifinal/final four game — the first in program history. At this contest, they followed John's son, Jahn Farris. "I wanted my dad's story to be told for everyone to know what really happened to him," Jahn said. "When I shared his story (on social media shortly before his passing on Jan. 25, 2020), I actually prayed and asked God to guide me with his story," Jahn said. "I reached out to an individual who helped open the door for us to share my father's story." Jahn and his family have worked closely with the crew, providing guidance and direction along with determining who could give good context, via interviews, on John. So far, at least 20 people have talked with the crew while cameras have rolled. "It's family members, former students, his best friends and people in the community who knew my dad very well," Jahn said. Wilder doesn't know exactly when the project featuring John could debut on a big screen. She imagines it could premiere at a noteworthy film festival sometime later this year. "I believe that it will get to a major platform so that the world can see who my dad really was as an individual," Jahn said. "My family knows about his life and legacy, but I want the whole world to see how broken-hearted he was." What happened? John, a 1970 Sandusky High School graduate and a standout Blue Streaks basketball player who set several school records, passed away shortly after being diagnosed with early stages of dementia. He was 68. Weeks before his death, Jahn — on his personal Facebook page — shared his account of a troubling situation from nearly three decades prior. John's immediate family — including his wife, Priscilla — allowed the Register to interview him and write a news story to profile what happened. The Register news story published on Jan. 17, 2020, eight days before John's death. "It gave him the closure he needed," Jahn said about the article's impact. "The people who knew my dad finally got to hear his side of the story." The family believes widespread racial discrimination and false allegations made against John — who worked for Port Clinton Schools as its only Black educator at the time — led to him never getting rightful opportunities to advance in his once-promising career. "It was racism," Priscilla said in the 2020 interview. "They used their white privilege to go against him. They threw the rocks and hid their hands." In February 1994, John, who taught physical education and health for Port Clinton, came face-to-face with a 14-year-old boy enrolled in the district. The boy stood about 6 feet 2 inches tall, which matched John's stature. John claimed the boy struck him with a closed fist in an uppercut-like fashion. "He lost a basketball game, and he always had a temper, and he took it out on me," John said in 2020. John said he knew the boy well from coaching him. "He then pushed me over." Up until the day he died, John emphatically maintained he never struck the boy — not to even defend himself. After John restrained the boy, both parties independently spoke with a school administrator. John believed he had nothing to worry about. Beyond stating the truth, John's personnel file — a nearly flawless employment record with no prior marks of discipline, dating back to when he started with Port Clinton Schools in the early 1980s — would provide additional evidence that he's not a violent man. But he was wrong. "From there, my dad was called in the office, and he said that (the principal), at that time, went in and was telling him off," Jahn said. "He never gave my dad a chance to explain, and he assumed my dad was wrong from the beginning. He automatically took the (student's) side." Many of John's basketball players, including several eyewitnesses, spoke with school employees, explaining what happened in an attempt to clear him of any wrongdoing. "Some of my best players stuck up for me," John said in 2020. Added Jahn: "They asked my dad's players if he ever caused any physical harm to them, and they said, 'No, coach would never do that. He's a good guy and a good coach.'" The students' attempts to exonerate John, however, were futile. He was never cleared. "I ran into one of my dad's former (students about 15) years ago," Jahn said. "He explained, at that time, that my dad was going through this, that random students were called out, and some were even blackballed and were asked to talk against my dad. That shows he was innocent, but the school wanted my dad to be guilty of this." The aftermath While John didn't face any discipline, he surely experienced ridicule. For instance, colleagues harassed him. "They were giving me the silent treatment," John said during the 2020 interview. "They wouldn't even tell me if we had a snow day. I'd drive over the (Edison Memorial) bridge for work, from Sandusky, and wouldn't know if school was canceled until I got there." Even the student in question seemingly taunted John afterward. "He would come up to me in the hallways and say, 'Hi, how are you?'" John said five years ago. John missed out on many career opportunities and possible advancements in the district. "I was never promoted," John said in 2020. "I should have been the head coach for the varsity (Port Clinton boys) team. I was getting passed over all the time. That affected my life so much." Priscilla, who also taught as a part-time educator at Port Clinton, piggybacked off her husband's point. "They even put another teacher with him to 'help teach the class,'" Priscilla said. "There was so much tension being put on him. It made him lose his spirit as far as coaching and teaching went. He didn't want that. It wasn't fair." It also contributed, family members believe, to him never receiving the rightful recognition for his excellent basketball play. Most notably, even though he's just one of a few players in Sandusky High School's history to score more than 1,000 points, John never received an individual induction into the district's athletic hall of fame when he was alive. Family members pushed for the story, in part, so committee members would take notice of John's on-court prowess. At John's funeral, Sandusky's board of education presented a resolution honoring John, which highlighted his many athletic achievements with the Blue Streaks basketball team. It also gave him a deserved induction, albeit posthumously, into the hall of fame. "This would mean so much to me," John said about a possible enshrinement just days after his death. School board members chalked up his absence from the hall of fame as an oversight. "Most of us assumed he was already in the hall of fame," said Eugene Sanders, who served as Sandusky's superintendent at the time. "He was an amazing magician and crafter of the basketball. He was an amazing athlete who never lost his composure. He was a giant hero of mine." While Jahn wished his father would have been inducted years earlier, it's still appreciated how his name is forever memorialized with other all-time Blue Streak greats. "This is further proof that my dad was awesome at basketball, but I want people to know he was also an amazing person because of his love for coaching and his togetherness with family, community and students," said Jahn, who actually got inducted alongside his father in 2020 as well. He himself is another 1,000-point scorer for Sandusky. Why he stayed silent John never spoke up or against the administration out of fear and possible retaliation for doing so. So to continue supporting his family — which today consists of three children and three grandchildren — John didn't make an issue out of it. "He followed the chain of command and did everything the right way," Jahn said. "When you look back, even though it's hard to prove, my dad experienced racism. They never gave my dad a chance to prove his innocence." After being beaten down for so many years, John lost his passion for teaching and coaching. John retired in 1998 and stopped coaching altogether. "That's all I wanted to do," John said in 2020 about his passion for teaching and coaching. "I just love kids, and I couldn't do what I love anymore." Between 1994 and 2020, those 25-plus years heavily weighed on John and his family. Priscilla and Jahn both contend the incident caused John to lose weight and be distant. It's also contributed to his dementia, they said. "We have seen a drastic change in him," Jahn said in 2020 right before his father's death. "After all these years, that incident has taken a toll on him emotionally, mentally and physically," Jahn said. "I'm not asking for sympathy, but it's rough and hard to see my dad like this. He wanted me to tell his story because he wants closure." In 2020, the Register sent Jahn's post along with additional questions about this incident to Port Clinton superintendent Pat Adkins. Adkins said he wasn't aware of the post. He noted any incident between a student and staff member would be fully investigated and handled as appropriate by law. This incident preceded Adkins' time as Port Clinton School's leader. Jahn previously said an investigation did occur, but no action — either against his dad or the boy — resulted from it. John filed a lawsuit, claiming harassment and racial discrimination, but the court sided against him and, effectively, with Port Clinton Schools. With a court process likely exhausted, Jahn explained why he publicized his father's story on social media, interviewed with the Register and is now helping out with a documentary focusing on his father. "People can now see the truth, and they need to know the truth," Jahn said. "People don't have to be hush-hush if they experience something like this anymore. We have the freedom to speak out for the truth."