Thomas Jonathan Revere

Thomas Jonathan Revere

Thomas Jonathan Revere (known to all as Jonathan), a well-known figure in the cultural and political life of Martha’s Vineyard, died at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston on Sunday, January 19,, of complications resulting from a massive heart attack suffered earlier in January. He was 74.

A longtime resident of Seven Gates Farm in West Tisbury, Jonathan had a colorful life with many friends in many places, and was known Island-wide for his acerbic wit and humor. A published poet and emerging novelist, his encyclopedic knowledge of literature and the theatre spanned the arts. At the time of his death he was completing a novel he had contemplated for many years.

The son of Thomas and Althea Revere, Jonathan was born in New York City and attended the Browning School there, as well as schools in Montclair, New Jersey, and Washington, D.C. In 1960, he graduated from Harvard University as Class Poet. During the summers of his early college years, the late 1950s, he worked as a reporter for the Vineyard Gazette, driving to Edgartown in a 1938 Packard his mother had bought him for transportation. He said it burned more oil than gas.

His introduction to the Island came in the early 1950s, shortly after his father died prematurely, also of a heart attack, when his mother bought a house on the Lagoon in Oak Bluffs. In 1955 his mother bought a large house in Seven Gates, which he and his sister, Lee, have occupied as full-time residents since the mid-1980s.

Post college he worked in the Boston area on historic preservation and then worked with David Bird and Mel King on housing rehabilitation projects to provide low-income housing in the city. He later teamed up with David Bird again to work on issues of technology transfer and patent development, where his work took him to Mexico, South America, Europe, and Asia.

Over the past three decades Jonathan’s Island involvements reflected his very active mind, imagination, and interests. He served on the board of directors of the Vineyard Playhouse beginning in the late 80’s, leaving the board in 1997, during which time he also appeared in many of its productions. An accomplished thespian, often taking on the roles of heavily mannered, slightly stodgy but often very funny patricians, he gave memorable performances in Noises Off, Annie, She Loves Me, Frankenstein, and The Doc Brief, by John Mortimer who also wrote Rumpole of the Bailey, lines from which Jonathan worked into his daily vocabulary.

The role of Elwood P. Dowd in the 1991 Vineyard Playhouse production of “Harvey” seemed to be written for Jonathan. Without much apparent effort he became on stage the eccentric bachelor living in a small town, one of only a few who could see a 6-foot, 3-inch white rabbit named “Harvey,” Dowd’s sanity is put into question by his equally eccentric sister, Veta Louise.

Often telling the story on himself, Jonathan would relate how, in his role as the monster in “Frankenstein,” he drove home late one night in full costume because he was too tired to take off the elaborate makeup he was in. In keeping with Vineyard tradition at the time, he stopped to pick up two young women hitchhikers on State Road as he was coming up the hill from Vineyard Haven. As they opened the car door to get in and the dome light went on, they saw him and went screaming into the night in sheer terror. He had forgotten he was still in costume.

An aficionado of old movies, particularly those of the Thirties and Forties, Jonathan was part of a group which brought classic films, with commentary, to the old Grange Hall in West Tisbury. For several years, he read poetry aloud while with a group called The Troubadours.

With the advent of MVTV just after the turn of the century, Jonathan found a new calling: videographer. And he pursued this newfound interest with intensity and immersion. He became a board member of MVTV, learned how to use a camera, and began bringing it to public meetings. At the time, a TV camera at a public meeting was essentially unheard of, and its presence, as well as Jonathan’s, was not always welcome.

Now, the weekly broadcasts of Island selectmen’s meetings, among others, are routine, and watched by audiences Island-wide. Jonathan was a pioneer in this regard, and faithfully recorded meetings in West Tisbury and Chilmark for over a decade. Not limited to this important service in the interest of open government, he became a producer of hundreds of other programs for MVTV. Together with Cynthia Riggs, they produced close to 300 interviews with Island writers, painters, and musicians, which included, in 2007, a popular series of interviews entitled “Our Town,” about the residents and features of West Tisbury in that moment.

An enduring and passionate interest in government transparency and local politics led him to become, during the 1990s, one of the founders of the West Tisbury Taxpayers Association. His experience there and his video involvement subsequently led him to run for public office repeatedly. At his death he was an elected member of the West Tisbury Finance Committee, and had served on many town committees and boards over a period of several decades. His pursuit of government transparency eventually led to substantial reform in the way in which public officials were nominated in West Tisbury.

He is remembered by a wide circle of friends on the Island as a man with an extraordinary gift for friendship, generosity, and devotion, fiercely loyal, and always ready with a pun and a razor wit that could give a close shave. His ability to connect people and match-make among friends was a special gift. Several of his friends have noted that having Jonathan as a friend knew no equal.

He is survived by his sister, Lee Revere.

A celebration of his life is being planned for mid-April, which would have been his 75th birthday.


  1. Jonathan, my heart is broken. I cannot believe life will be carrying on without you in it.

    Our first meeting was propitious. When I came to Seven Gates for one glorious month of September, 13 long years ago, in 2001, he caught me as I was checking mail at the farm office and as he eyed me up and down, he glared officiously, “Who are you? What are you doing on this property?” Soon I learned the ultimate guard dog with a reputation to match, was really a big-hearted, complex personality with a heart as deep as one of his late mother’s Mexican silver mine shafts.

    When I explained I had rented the White House to finished a book (“Boat Bastard, a love/hate story”, published by Harper Collins in 2002), he stepped back, gave me a look with a lopsided eye, and I fell in love right then and there. A lonely soul, he seemed, and so I invited him for tea that afternoon. Surprisingly, he accepted, and from that afternoon onwards, Jonathan came to my back door and enjoyed cookies and coffee and shared with me his hilarious and uncompromising wit and humor of island tales and island personalities–but most importantly, he became my first and best friend on the Vineyard who never ever forgot me. In good times and bad, Jonathan always looked out for me.

    This year, after many years away, I spent another September on island. There was Jonathan, waiting for me and all my odd bits and pieces of September gear, to move into the Gothard House on Music Street where I had luckily gotten Bob Gothard to grant me four weeks of bliss and magic to share with my husband who had just been diagnosed with Stage IV Metatastic Prostate cancer that was already creeping deep into his bones causing great pain. Before time grew much shorter, I wanted to share the magic of the Vineyard, especially in September, with my almost new husband and hoped its healing powers might erase the pain of this disease. And Jonathan was there to receive us.

    Over this span of time, during these past thirteen years, Jonathan had changed dramatically in personal growth, in self-confidence, in cheerfulness, in his release of a handful of personal pains and self-doubts, and this grew apparent by the fact that he had actually buckled down and was deep into a complex and mysterious novel he had promised himself to write. I felt privileged to have had the ability to watch and listen over the years to his stories of life, both personal and public. I cannot believe it was only three weeks ago when he finally gave me the ultimate present; he sent me the complex, many-layered, middle chapter from his book he had been writing. Other than those in the writing group, I don’t know if anyone else was as lucky as I to receive such a gift. Of course, Jonathan Skyped me the very next day with, “Well, well? What do you think?” And I told him that I had immediately fallen in love with the main character of the novel; the lone fair boy/man named “Sparrow” locked in time as a caretaker for an estate on Oyster Bay in Long Island Sound; actually, dear, quirky Sparrow, could only have been modeled after one person–Jonathan himself. As I was not part of the new writer’s group he grew deeply involved with, I thank those who were for encouraging him to keep writing; and along the way, those lucky members who grew close to him and got to enjoy his wit and sparkling literary criticism should treasure those memories forever. I, myself, cannot even grasp the enormity of my own personal loss of friendship with Jonathan, my stalwart defender.

    Sparrow/Jonathan-–I shall miss you all the rest of the days of my life.

    Deborah van Rooyen

  2. While the heavens reshape the island, each year moving soil, clay and sand, changing the landscape forever, Once in a while a citizen will pass, taking with him a reminder of the soul of The Vineyard that once was. Rest in Peace, Jonathan.