When the news first broke — stunning it felt at the time — that Express Grain Terminals was filing for bankruptcy, one of the first thoughts to hit me was whether I had been played.
Eight months earlier, I had spent most of a Saturday afternoon with John Coleman, the now-indicted president of the company, getting a tour of his soybean-processing facility. One of his employees had been persistent in asking that I come along with the reporter, Susan Montgomery, who was doing the story.
Although I reluctantly agreed to tag along with Susan, it ended up being a fascinating and enjoyable four hours. Coleman walked us through every step of how oil is extracted from soybeans, and all the byproducts — mostly meal for animal feed — that are created along the way.
We got to see the round-the-clock factory in operation, meet a few of the employees and learn about the making of biodiesel, an endeavor into which Express Grain had plunged full force.
One of the highlights was climbing with Coleman to the top of one of the 150-foot-tall gray-painted brick silos and looking out over Greenwood. Coleman, 18 years younger than I, had walked up the winding metal staircase many times and was in better shape than I. Still, he complimented me for not being too winded by the time we had reached the top.
Having done this job long enough, you develop a keen smell for baloney. But I didn’t get a whiff of it that day. I came away impressed not only by the operation but by Coleman. He seemed extremely knowledgeable, hard-working and proud of what he had been able to accomplish in a field he knew nothing about when he bought the plant six years earlier.
But, according to the state and federal indictments released this week, Coleman at that same time was already thickly entangled in one of the biggest deceits this farming community has ever experienced.
He is accused of cheating dozens of creditors — including the farmers who trusted him with their grain — out of tens of millions of dollars. He made so many people angry throughout the Delta that he left the state, most likely to protect himself and his young family. If convicted, he’s certain to do some prison time.
What was his supposed motivation?
I don’t think it was to enrich himself personally. He didn’t live extravagantly, and the court-appointed examiner who looked into Coleman’s personal finances found no evidence of embezzlement or misappropriated funds.
My guess is he wanted to save his company, thought he could turn its fortunes around and that no one would ever know about the “creative accounting” he allegedly performed to stay in business long enough to prove that his bet on biodiesel was a good one.
The indictments claim Coleman’s deceit began at least three years before he got caught. They say he doctored the company’s financial audits starting in 2018 in an effort to keep his banker at bay and state regulators satisfied.
Each year, though, the fabrication had to get bigger. By the time of that January afternoon I spent with Coleman, the company was losing more than $20 million a year, even while claiming it was still marginally profitable, and erasing auditors’ warnings that it was on the brink of failure.
When a company goes under, there’s always collateral damage. Employees lose jobs, creditors get only a fraction of what they are owed, and there’s a lot of bitterness.
I can understand why a bunch of farmers are furious. Some of those who lost the most may themselves now be on the brink of failure. It’s hard to overlook that email Coleman’s company sent out — and that he allegedly approved — saying it was “in good shape financially” just a day before filing for bankruptcy.
That wasn’t “faking it until you make it.” That was blatantly deceitful. Maybe it was a dishonesty motivated by desperation, but it was dishonesty nonetheless.
Still, I can’t help but feel sorry for Coleman. Until a few years ago, he lived not far from my house with his wife and two young children. I’d see them at times strolling or playing outside with their kids. A nice couple.
When Coleman and I were at the top of that silo, I asked him if I could take his picture. It shows him smiling and confident, seemingly on top of the world. Little did I know how brief that stay would be.
- Contact Tim Kalich at 662-581-7243 or tkalich@gwcommonwealth.com.
The fall for Express Grain’s John Coleman, now charged with defrauding creditors out of tens of milions of dollars, has been swift, dramatic and sad. (By Tim Kalich)
