John Henry McCaughey: On Trust, God, Heavy Equipment, and Other Matters of Interest
Although he would never admit it because of his native modesty, John Henry McCaughey is something of a local legend. This stems not only from his decades-long dedication to Sunburst’s land and people, but also because he’s so profoundly cool. I use that word in the most respectful sense, to connote an unshakeable groundedness in himself that causes others, in the most natural way, to look to him for leadership and guidance. He’s a man who gets things done. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a wizard at driving really big earth-moving machines.
A man of few words, John Henry nevertheless manages to crack people up at regular intervals. His understated, slightly rebellious humor shows in his eyes and ready smile, while his rugged, somewhat crusty demeanor guards a very tender and open heart. John’s mission is to steadfastly protect and uphold Sunburst founder Norm Paulsen’s legacy and ideals.
As a young man living in Del Mar, California, John Henry discovered meditation in the early 70s through the Self-Realization Fellowship (SRF), where Paramahansa Yogananda once lived and taught. Norman Paulsen, who had been a direct disciple of Yogananda in the late 40s and early 50s, founded the Sunburst Community in 1969.
Having brought many of his friends to SRF to introduce them to meditation, John Henry watched as many of them left the Del Mar area to go to Norm’s new community on the Central Coast. He recalls, “I was happy for them because they seemed to be doing really well [at Sunburst], but I was set in my world and everything was going along just fine for me.” With his trademark candor, he explains, “I wasn’t the usual hippie guy. I was really rooted and stable. I loved what I was doing and wanted to keep doing it.” His work at that time was at the University of California San Diego’s High-Altitude Research Lab, using his education and training as an aerospace and mechanical engineer.
Something soon happened that severely upset John Henry’s equilibrium, however. An elderly couple in the early stages of dementia that he had been helping out suddenly and unjustly questioned his honesty, shaking the then-24 year old to his roots. He had been so sure of his mission to “help society,” but this effort seemed to have failed miserably. Sad, angry, and hurt, he walked to a nearby creek to collect himself after the incident. He decided to meditate for a few minutes to find the calm that his practice usually brought. Some time later, John Henry looked up and was astonished to find the words “Sunburst Farm” spelled out in purple letters in the sky. Without any hesitation, he stood up and went into his workplace, where he called information to get Sunburst’s phone number to say he was coming for a visit.
John hitched a ride with a friend to the community, arriving there on his twenty-fifth birthday in 1973. Although he felt strongly that he had been guided to Sunburst, John Henry was also somewhat leery. “I had leapt before I looked a year earlier and got burned,” he told me, “so I approached Sunburst with caution and intended to spend just a week there to check it out.” The community quickly worked its magic on the gifted engineer, however, and by the end of his first day he was already helping people fix things and get broken vehicles moving again. He also met Norm that day, but dispels the notion that the two had an instant bond, saying only, “He was a big guy. Big beard.” They shook hands by way of introduction and that was that.
Meanwhile, John became very impressed with how people treated each other at Sunburst and realized that he “had never seen people interacting that way before. Everyone was very friendly and sincere.” After sitting with the rest of the community that night for evening meditation, he was sold. “That’s when I knew for sure,” he told me during our interview.
A few days later, as John Henry was 
walking down a path at Sunburst Farm, he heard a man’s voice behind him call out, “Jonathan.” Thinking it was odd, since no one ever called him that, he turned around to see Norm following him. The two men began a conversation that yielded remembrances of past lives working together toward common goals in an intense manner that John characterizes as “do or die.” From then on, they were close friends and in ensuing years Norm relied increasingly on the younger man to manage a variety of community responsibilities.
Then as now, Sunburst residents were required to have a job so they could contribute by paying for their room and board. But when John Henry moved in, work in the community was scarce. Sunburst was running two natural food stores and a trucking company, but all the jobs were filled. Finally, he asked his friends Steve, Mehosh, and Tomas, who worked with the trucks, if they could find him any kind of work at all. They came up with two weeks’ worth of mechanical maintenance that needed to be done. During that time, as John was moving vehicles around to work on them, the other men noticed his natural dexterity and skill with the machines. It wasn’t long before he was promoted to driver for the Sunburst stores, and soon he was the community’s main tractor-trailer operator.
In May 1974 (John has an uncanny memory for exact dates, by the way), Sunburst bought a warehouse in Goleta where he worked on the truck engines and from which he drove back and forth to Los Angeles twice a week with deliveries. Norm had also asked John to restore the neglected and malfunctioning old juicing equipment in the Sunburst apple orchard so the community could start making apple and grape juice for its stores. (It was in the orchard, in fact, where John Henry met Barbara, who would one day be his wife and the mother of their three children.) By this point, he had been given full charge of the entire Sunburst fleet of vehicles. Lack of employment was long a thing of the past; now there were barely enough hours in the day to attend to all of his responsibilities.
Norm’s teachings anchored John Henry during these long but rewarding years of developing and growing the community. When asked how the teachings have affected his life, he answers, “When I moved here, they became my life. I’m an all-in kind of guy. Life here is the teachings.” Likewise, John’s strong bond with Norm became a source of strength and resolve as well. A devout Catholic in his youth, John remembers having doubts about the religion and wondering, “How is this going to teach me to live like Jesus?” It was not until he experienced being around Norm, whom he considers “an illumined being,” that John Henry understood what he needed to do to walk that path. “Norm didn’t pull any punches, but he was here to help you grow. I’ve changed dramatically from the kid I was,” he says, “and it’s all because of the teachings.”
As the years went by and his reputation for hard work and high quality spread, John Henry gradually developed his own building and contracting business. His dark-green heavy equipment is still frequently seen around the ranch with “J.H. & Co.” handsomely lettered on the sides. Having handed off many of his Sunburst duties to others who needed work, he was doing well for himself in 2006 when he learned that Norm was very ill.
This marked another huge shift for John, as Norm—perhaps sensing that he would soon leave his body—suddenly asked his old friend to return to full-time work at the ranch to begin a long list of large projects he wanted to see completed as soon as possible. Although concerned for his mentor and shocked by the sudden shift, John Henry obliged, despite having to drop some in-progress work for which he had signed contracts. His friendship with Norm and support of Sunburst trumped all business concerns. During this period the men also formed the daily habit of meeting at Norm and Patty’s house at Nojoqui Farm for brief work updates, although sometimes they just sat or watched the news together. John Henry’s quiet, reassuring presence was a comfort to Norm, both in the moment and as he looked into the future.
Norm passed away shortly thereafter, leaving John in charge as ranch manager. Five years later, on any given day, John Henry can be seen running huge tractors and digging equipment as he builds and repairs the ranch roads and installs new landscaping at the ranch. He runs a crew of men collectively known as “The Guys,” who do everything from building fences and repairing water pipes to planting trees and branding cattle. While he never appears to be in a hurry, he also seems to be everywhere at once.
As anyone who knows him can attest, John Henry has a strong vision for the future of Sunburst. This vision is based on Norm’s original quest, and his assignment from Yogananda: to pioneer a new way of life for humanity in which we live lightly on the land and return to our roots as stewards of the Earth. John would like to see the world, and Sunburst in particular, increasingly attuned to the rhythms of nature.
John Henry’s pastimes reflect his lifelong commitment to the land as well. His love of archery has led to the ruination of many targets, and it’s rumored that he plays electric guitar and keeps an industrial-grade leather-sewing machine at his house. The beautiful gardens, trees, and other landscaping he and Barbara have done are very popular with the local deer despite his best efforts to persuade them otherwise. (These do not include archery as of this writing). He calls his children, who are now grown, “the best people in the world.”
Guardian, warrior, and stalwart friend, John Henry McCaughey does not suffer fools gladly. He’s also one of the kindest and funniest men many of us will ever know. It’s an honor to live in this community with him.
Photo credits: Kara Block at Om Imagery
