In early November of 2025, as the fall light filtered through the windows of Marilyn Wilson’s home in downtown Hillsboro, Oregon, Jerry Wilson took his final breath. He was surrounded by family, warmed by conversation, laughter, and the smell of home-cooked food drifting from the kitchen. He was shirtless in his hospital bed, feet bare and stretched toward the hearth, just as he lived—exposed, unflinching, and unafraid. In his final days, he joked, read, challenged artificial intelligence on his tablet, and said his goodbyes with a fierce kind of grace. This is the story of that man.
Author’s note: This is my version of his life from what I knew of him, reading his work, and watching his life play out. I ask my friends, the Wilsons, and all who knew Jerry to fill in the gaps and correct the mistakes in the comments below for the revision of this story, which I waited far too long to write. Sometimes nothing great can be said without some perspective and time. This is my attempt to tell his story.
This is the story of Jerry Lee Wilson.
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
CHAPTER 1: A MANUFACTURED LIFE
“Why, son, you have to manufacture. The manufacturer controls the whole process.” That quote, Jerry’s own words, weren’t just business advice. They were a philosophy. And Jerry Wilson didn’t just manufacture fitness equipment. He manufactured a life worth writing about.
Born in Roswell, New Mexico, Jerry came up through the grit of a military school upbringing. That discipline, and perhaps a distaste for it, shaped the rebellious, sharp-witted, and wildly self-educated man he would become. He flew helicopters, served his country in Vietnam, and tangled early on with the law in what came to be known as the “El Paso 10”, a borderland drug-smuggling case that haunted and mythologized him in equal measure.
“I flew combat in Vietnam. That war didn’t make much sense, and I had the feeling the people in charge didn’t know what they were doing. It left me with a deep distrust of government, and a determination to do things my own way.”
Towards the end of his life, we conversed about money, something he had experienced in every
aspect. “I’ve been poor, and I’ve been rich,” he said. “I was just as happy poor.”
CHAPTER 2: SOLOFLEX RISES
In 1980, Jerry brought his family and his newly formed company to Hillsboro, Oregon. Soloflex, originally started as Bucksteel Manufacturing in New Mexico, soon revolutionized home fitness with its resistance-band design inspired by the flex and pull of airplane controls. Wilson, a longtime pilot and aviation nut, was looking for an opportunity when he hatched the idea for using aeronautic resistance bands inspired by his Beechcraft Super 18.
Jerry innovatively created the machine and quite literally designed strength into an American living room.
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
His wife, Marilyn Wilson, was his co-pilot. She told me Jerry said we need a new home for the business and an airport so we can fly in. The couple circled Hillsboro on a map, flew here, saw the town, and that was it. Together, they grew Soloflex into a household name. Their homegrown marketing pioneered the infomercial, a free videotape mailed to would-be consumers, and their bold visuals (including a shirtless Scott Madsen, a Hillsboro High student, friend, and classmate of mine)
turned the phrase “Body by Soloflex” into pop-culture currency. They built one of the most innovative companies in America on their own terms, and it worked!
At its peak, Soloflex pulled in over $50 million in annual revenue. It employed hundreds in Hillsboro. They were the second largest employer in Hillsboro at the crescendo, employing over 500 locals. The company owned all the land from Baseline to Elam Young Parkway, including what is now Coyote’s pub, 53rd Street Park, Hidden Creek Community Center, and the new affordable housing projects along the MAX line.
Soloflex was different, just like Jerry, Marilynn, and the family.
“This isn’t just iron and rubber,” he once said, “it’s a philosophy of self-reliance.”
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
Marilyn later launched her own venture, the Sweet Oregon Grill, and raised their four children: Molly, Stuart, Brian, and Connie, who all remain in the Hillsboro/Portland area.
Hillsboro Herald Photo
Through it all, Jerry pushed, poked, questioned, and flew. His “Mosquito” gyrocopter (think Gyro Captain from Mad Max) was often seen buzzing over the Helvetia hills where his mansion stood watch.
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
He shot the factory clock with a shotgun once to make a point: Production matters more than
time.
CHAPTER 3: REVOLUTIONARY TENDENCIES
Jerry didn’t just make money. He made statements.
He and Marilyn spent $1.5 million of their own fortune helping to shut down Oregon’s Trojan
Nuclear Power Plant in 1992. He backed two cannabis legalization measures. One in the
1980s, and he proudly called himself a “retired pot smuggler.” In 2010, he ran for governor of
Oregon.
His campaign proposals?
A state-owned bank.
Public campaign financing—with criminal penalties for legislators who failed to fund it.
Pardons for all nonviolent drug offenders.
And, as always, a jab at the system.
“Not many pot smugglers have been governors,” he said. “At least not confessed ones.”
He ran not to win, but to provoke thought. In a conversation with this reporter, I called Jerry the most Hunter S. Thompson-meets-Howard Hughes personality I’d ever met. He nodded and laughed. “I’ve been planning a podcast too,” he said, “Tar and feathers don’t scare me.”
His website, VivaLaRevolucion.org, contains some of the most thought-provoking stories you may ever read. Governor Kotek’s Prosperity Council just weighed in on its recommendations to save Oregon. Their central idea was something this mixed-up madman suggested long long ago.
Businesses do not pay taxes; they COLLECT them! They act as proxies for government agencies and simply add the cost of these taxes to the products and services they sell. Customers pay all taxes. Businesses don’t want to be tax collectors. They are forced by laws to do this.
“Let’s stick it to those rich corporations, they’re not paying their fair share!” the politicians say, especially the democrats. “Let’s stick it to those rich corporations,” the state, county and city bureaucracies say, “And collect some pay-to-play fees while we’re at it. Let’s see, what can we dream up next?
I intend to submit legislation to end taxing businesses altogether in Oregon. This will make it much easier and less costly to start a business and make Oregon products and services more competitive with out of state companies. It should attract a flood of new businesses to settle here. Business owners can pay their taxes from personal earnings like everyone else.
Wait, a pot-smoking radical saying stuff like that? He was complex to say the least. But he lived on both sides of the American divide, like a wild-eyed giant straddling the Pecos River, which rises in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, running pure and crisp before it flows into the Permian Basin in Texas, where it slows, becomes murky, and turns salty. Its journey ends after 926 miles, after the river carves through dramatic, deep, multi-colored limestone canyons, emptying into the Rio Grande River at the Amistad Reservoir. Ever-changing and defying definition and understanding, both Jerry and that river tell us a story.
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
CHAPTER 4: THE GOOD, THE GOD, AND THE GOLDEN RULE
“I think the word ‘God’ is a misspelling of the word ‘Good.’ Who doesn’t believe in good?”
That was Jerry. Irreverent, defiant, and a moralist in disguise. His writings, like “America, Inc.,” published in the New York Times in 1992 and read into the Congressional Record by Rep. Les AuCoin, proposed turning the U.S. into a joint-stock corporation. Citizens would be shareholders. Dividends would replace welfare. Public works
He believed mothers were the most important workers in society and should be paid accordingly. He championed the Golden Rule as the only scripture worth keeping. His final essays warned of collapsing infrastructure, political corruption, and a nation at war with itself.
“We don’t need more laws,” he wrote, “we need more principle.”
Chapter 5: The Mansion on the Hill: Rumors, Rebels, and the Return to Earth
By the mid-1980s, Jerry Wilson was no longer just the mind behind Soloflex; he was becoming a myth. After launching his revolutionary fitness empire from Hillsboro’s Hawthorn Farm Industrial Park and turning it into a global sensation, Jerry and Marilyn Wilson built a sprawling mansion high in the Helvetia hills. It rose like a beacon, or maybe a provocation, above the quiet undulating farmland. Soon, Jerry was flying in and out by helicopter, the thrum of rotors becoming a strange new soundtrack to a once-sleepy rural community.
I remember those days vividly. I was just finishing up at Portland State, where I studied business, and had chosen Soloflex for a degree-defining project. Jerry, just a phone call away, invited me in to tour the plant. I did and saw every aspect of it and then spent two weeks writing my collegiate masterpiece, or so I thought. We sat and talked, and he gave honest, thoughtful feedback on my report. He didn’t just tolerate this student’s ideas; he welcomed them.
“I’m always open to new ideas,” he said, “but I’m going to do things my way to the end.”
Picture courtesy of Jerry Lee Wilson – Facebook
That stuck with me.
Soloflex was as unique and different as the man himself- revolutionary, really, in many ways.
But not everyone in Hillsboro saw Jerry through that same lens. At the Helvetia Tavern, where I
often found myself among conservative farmers and businessmen, his name drew sneers.
He’d walk in occasionally to grab a beer and some of the famous burgers or a beer to go; never lingering long, and the place would freeze. Respect wasn’t freely given in those parts, especially to a guy with a ponytail, a helicopter, and a pocket full of libertarian dreams.
And the rumors didn’t stop at politics.
Fast cars, flashy parties, kids in rare sports cars on backroads, whispers of cocaine flown in from out of state—Jerry’s past with the El Paso 10 followed him. Some said he was the biggest coke dealer on the West Coast. But the truth was hard to separate from legend; pretty much all rumors that made Jerry smile at the end. What was undeniable was that Soloflex had made him wealthy, visible, and deeply controversial.
But here’s the part the stories leave out: when the community needed help, Jerry answered. In 1996, Hillsboro was on the verge of being chosen as the site for a new state women’s prison. Mayor Gordon Faber asked me to form a resistance committee. The first person I called? Jerry Wilson. Together with other business and community leaders that I brought forward, we formed the No Prison In The Sunset Corridor Committee. He donated immediately without hesitation. He didn’t want a prison in the Sunset Corridor any more than I did. It was one of the first times I saw him not as a business legend or a political firebrand, but as a neighbor ready to fight for his home. We won that battle together.
During this time, Jerry met and left his impression on some of the old guard in the Tualatin Valley, and this
was good for all concerned, as Soloflex had taken us all by storm in those days. A wild-eyed outsider had awoken a sleepy farm community. Turns out he, Solofelx, and Marilyn bought a unique, untapped energy for Hillsboro that, to this day, has been ingrained in the DNA of who we have become as a people and community.
That’s who Jerry Wilson was, misunderstood, maybe, but never inactive. He carried the contradictions of a revolutionary capitalist who could toast you with a glass of fine wine while railing against the ruling class. He could be paranoid and prophetic, sharp as a tack, and deeply kind. If he had ghosts, he wore them like medals.
CHAPTER 5: THE LAST RIDE
In 2023, after a decade in Las Vegas, Jerry came home. He returned to Marilyn, to Hillsboro, to the family and the valley he once flew over in his helicopter. He went for walks, reminisced, and allowed me to publish one of his stories in the Hillsboro Herald.
We ate lunch twice over the next few months and openly discussed his writing more, and helped me with a podcast. I even asked if he would run for Mayor or City Council in 2022, and he was game. We began forming a committee, and he told me we had successfully done it together before, so why not double down on the working-together thing? I was excited, and his eyes were twinkling like some good trouble was brewing.
And then the cancer came.
Within months, he had withered to 100 pounds. But his mind? It expanded. He read. He posted. He flirted with Gemini and AI, wondering what they’d be in the hands of rebels. He joyfully asked me and everyone to come see him as he transitioned. When I asked what I could bring to a dying man, his answer was true to himself.
“Bring yourself. That is all that is needed. I’m just lying here in the living room, spending every minute I can with family and friends until the very end, and it’s been one hell of a ride!”
I saw him three times in the final stretch, and he sat smiling, telling me something I will never
forget.
“The thing about this that gets me is that my mind is evolving, expanding- things are so clear, and I have so much more capacity than I ever have, it is remarkable,” he told me, beaming from his hospital bed, draped in white linen, shirtless, eyes gleaming, like a timeless and ageless wise man. “But my body is done, and I know it. If I had to pick, this is the way to go. Mind intact and evolving…I am going out the way I want to,” he added as Marilyn brought us some delicious food from the kitchen. She faithfully held things together and fed all who came and went in what can only be described as a magical life celebration that felt like a talk show, carnival, and talk show all at the same time.
Jerry and I openly discussed the possibility of uploading a human mind to the AI cloud. He said that would be really cool, but could never replace the life he had here on the ground.
In one of his final posts on his Facebook wall, he wrote:
“I am in hospice care… I feel lucky to be able to die so comfortably. My family and friends have flocked to my side. I had a fantastic life… I got a lot more heaven than hell. Lucky me.”
The last photo Jerry posted showed his family smiling at the foot of his bed. With his caption
Simply posted, “Saying Goodbye”
Jerry Lee Wilson looked up from his in-home hospital bed at the smiling faces of his children and family. The joy they sent him as the boatman carried him off was perhaps the greatest moment of his life. From Jerry Lee Wilson’s Facebook wall.
“This,” I wrote back to him, “is the right way to die.” He sent along a smiley face.
Jerry Lee Wilson was gone a few days after this. And just like that, it was over.
EPILOGUE: A LIFE ENGINEERED
Jerry Wilson lived on his terms. Inventor. Rebel. Philosopher. Husband. Patriot. Pothead. Provocateur. He flew machines, sold machines, and raged against any machine that tried to fence in his mind. He was ours. He was Hillsboro’s for a while. Mostly, he was his family’s and the world’s.
He died as he lived: feet forward, head up, laughter in the air, revolution in his veins. Godspeed, Jerry Lee Wilson. We’re better for having known you. As promised, you will be remembered!
📸 MAJOR LANDMARKS
● Birth 10-22-1943
● Raised in Roswell-
● Military School
● Marilyn and Marriage
● 1980: Soloflex opens in Hillsboro
● 1984: First infomercial
● 1992: Trojan Plant shut down
● 2010: Run for Oregon Governor
● 2023: Returns to Hillsboro
● 2025: Dies surrounded by family
This story will live in the Herald archives, but Jerry Wilson, truth be told, never needed ink to
make his mark.
He built the kind of life you feel.
And he rode it, like a tiger, into the abyss.
Please leave your comments and memories below.
Jerryisms: Wilson Wisdom
Collected Quotes from Jerry Lee Wilson (1943–2025)
Inventor, Entrepreneur, Revolutionary Thinker
■■ On Government, Capitalism & America, Inc.
“America is a joint-stock corporation. Every citizen owns one share. When was the
last time you got a dividend?”
“The only real product of any nation is its next generation. Everything else is
paperwork.”
“Labor is the source of all wealth. Capital is what labor builds with credit and
materials.”
“We don’t need more tanks. We need more bridges.”
“We are the only company on earth that puts 40% of its labor force into the night
watchman’s department.”
“You don’t need taxes to run a company. You just need to print money and back it up
with labor.”
“Every dollar printed that isn’t backed up by labor building capital is inflation.”
“Our infrastructure is collapsing while we spend like an empire in decline.”
“It used to be against the law to use credit on expenses. Now we build bombs and call
them capital.”
■ On Revolution, Politics & Justice
“We have a pay-to-play system. The law goes to the highest bidder. A free
enterprise.”
“I’m a revolutionary kind of guy. Tar and feathers don’t scare me.”
“Put legislators in jail if they won’t fund public campaigns. That’s how we clean this
place up.”
“I just wish they would do what the Constitution says and provide for the general
welfare.”
“Best money I ever spent was shutting down Trojan. Well, except maybe for women
and drugs.”
■ On Religion, Goodness, and Meaning
“I think the word ‘god’ is a misspelling of the word ‘good.’ Who doesn’t believe in
Good?”
“All gods have been manmade inventions to sell tickets to heaven or to exercise
control.”
“The Golden Rule is the only holy scripture one needs.”
“When I do bad, I feel bad. When I do good, I feel good. And that’s my religion.”
■■ On Adventure, Flight, and Soloflex
“The Soloflex machine was inspired by the resistance of an airplane in a hard turn.”
“General aviation airplanes typically have one horsepower for every ten pounds of
weight. The first Learjets had one for every 1.2. A hell of a thrill.”
“Imagine your car with 6,000 horsepower. That’s a Learjet.”
“More than a quarter of the first 100 crashed. Things happen really fast when you’re
red-lining life.”
“It’s not just a machine. It’s a revolution in how we see strength.”
❤■ On Life, Death & Family
“Bring yourself. That is all that is needed. I’m just lying here in the living room
spending every minute I can with family and friends until the very end — and it’s been
one hell of a ride!”
“I’ve been poor, and I’ve been rich. I was just as happy poor.”
“Time may be to give the kids the vote.”
“You have to earn a soul. You don’t get one for free.”
“This is the right way to die. Family and friends are stopping by to chat. Great to see you
Thank you for writing this Dirk, it is a beautiful encapsulation of Jerry’s life and spirit! The family appreciates you.
It was my pleasure. I hope it lives on the web forerver for people to read and know about him. He was no boring!