Jim Belushi became a changed man in Southern Oregon. The actor and musician says he jumped into the Rogue River and rose to the surface -- "like a baptism" -- with the idea he should buy land a world away from Hollywood.

He did. Five summers ago, he rescued the neglected Elks picnic grounds in Eagle Point. He battled back blackberries, repaired the old structures, built a vacation home on a bend in the river and, along the way, became the area's most famous fundraiser.

Now he's growing cannabis and he has a complicated idea to save us from opioid abuse that involves giving out marijuana as an alternative to prescription and illegal painkillers.

He hopes to start with a pop-up dispensary in downtown Portland, then bring the crusade to Los Angeles where he lives most of the time, then Chicago where he grew up and practiced improv and comedy at the Second City theater group.

Like his late brother John Belushi, experience at Second City propelled them to acting and writing for NBC's "Saturday Night Live," followed by international recognition through movies and music. John, who suffered from seizures and drug dependency, died in 1982.

Jim Belushi's entertainment career, which includes time on Broadway, continues after 40 years.

What drives him? "Quiet time," says the 64 year old, "is overrated."



THE GOVERNOR NOTICES



It's hard not to like Jim Belushi. He's so generous; so ambitious for Oregon.



After donations for the restoration of the 1930 Holly Theatre in downtown Medford dried up, he flew in members of his 10-piece rhythm and blues band, The Sacred Hearts, and performed at an outdoor benefit concert.

He showed up at private fundraisers, waved to the crowds lining the Medford Pear Blossom parade route and added his name to donation request letters.

Randy McKay, the executive director of Jefferson Live! who manages the Holly Theatre and historic Cascade Theatre in Redding, California, credits Belushi with vaulting the Holly's restoration campaign's donor base from a few hundred to nearly 3,000.

Endorsements allowed the JPR Foundation, which owns the theater, to challenge Governor Kate Brown's funding veto and restore her support, says McKay.

Construction may start as early as December, but Belushi won't stop, he says, until the Spanish Colonial "movie palace" is brought "back to life as Southern Oregon's largest indoor concert venue."

Holly Theatre Board President Ken Silverman says Belushi's steadfast commitment generated donations and community enthusiasm. "We thank Jim Belushi," says Silverman, "and look forward to the day in the not too distant future, when he can bring his band to play the Holly."

Belushi also has lofty goals to restore the nearby 1872 Butte Creek Mill, which burned to the ground on Christmas Day in 2015. He took to the stage again to raise money. His mission: To preserve its heritage, build community and improve the environment.



Building community starts at his home. The Elks continue to hold their annual picnic on Belushi's property; so do members of the Oregon Cattlemen's Association. Native Americans gifted him with a sweat lodge, significantly positioned between the powerful landmarks of Upper Table Rock and Mount McLoughlin, which Belushi calls "Mount Pitt" like some locals.

Brides-to-be who tell him their mother was married on his land are given permission to exchange their vows near the same old oak tree. Schoolkids send him letters, thanking him for a field trip where they learned to protect the river.

Belushi is proud that he's adding to the local economy. He employs people to work at his farm and his new cannabis operation. Builders have been busy too. Seven expensive greenhouses and two barns occupy farmland his late neighbor Rebecca ("Becca") Merron wanted to him to have. His original 13 acres now span 93 acres, bookended by county-own territory.

His vision is even wider.



MARIJUANA TO THE RESCUE



Jim Belushi has names for parts of his property. With his German shepherd Cashew running alongside, Belushi steers his ATV to "the Park," with rolling wild grasses, "the Back 10" and the picket-fenced "Cemetery," where Merron, who died in 2015, and her ancestors lie beneath handsome headstones.

There's "the Range," where he tosses tomahawks, "the Other Side of the Chicken Coop" and "the Big Field."

"The Museum" is an old shed where vintage saws dangle from the rafters and walls are covered in eye bolts and whatnots needed to fix farm equipment.

"The old men who lived here saved every chain and straightened crooked nails," he says, gesturing toward cluttered workbenches. When he needs to replace a hinge or some other part, he heads to the Museum.

He finds everything he needs on his land.

"The Farm" is where, for three seasons, he has grown, cured, trimmed and marketed Belushi's Farm cannabis that he sells to select marijuana dispensaries in Oregon.



Captain Jack's Gulzar Afghanica -- which Belushi said was "the smell of 'Saturday Night Live'" -- is the headliner of Belushi's Private Vault. Other hits are Jeffrey Iverson's Nilla Wafers and Cherry Pie, which Belushi jokes acts as mellow marriage therapy.

His property rests in the Banana Belt, where the sun, air and water allow cannabis to thrive. His water rights date back to 1898. A test revealed the water has "almost the perfect pH" for his crop, he says.

Surveillance cameras, mandatory visitor registration and tight accounting demanded by the cannabis-regulating Oregon Liquor Control Commission (OLCC) don't annoy Belushi. Following Oregon Medical Marijuana Program's rules is part of the agreement, he says.

"It's not difficult to comply," he says, standing over a sea of orderly cannabis plants in containers.

He pampers his plants, plays music to them: "Baby-making music," he calls it, by Marvin Gaye and Barry White when they're young; reggae when they're growing and gospel -- "so they see the light" -- at harvest.

"They respond to love," he says. He signs each package before it leaves the farm.

He thinks cannabis could have helped his brother John. He says it reduces anxiety, aids sleep and benefits people with PTSD and alleviates side effects of chemo for cancer patients. Scientists at the Cannabis Research Initiative at the University of California, Los Angeles are hoping to study marijuana as a substitute for traditional and illegal painkillers like opioids.

Belushi has plans to introduce a cannabis product next year inspired by one of his brother's most famous characters.

"I'll tell you about it because I trust you," he whispers. "You can hint at it, but don't tell anyone."



LURED IN BY OREGON



Belushi and his family visited a friend's Rogue Valley ranch for several years before Belushi's self baptism.

He was having a good time, when, on "that one crazy day," he dove into the water and "the river grabbed me."

He was steered toward the Elks picnic grounds, so overgrown with bushes that he couldn't see the riverbank. He bought it for $725,000, had it cleaned up and the old concert stage building reconstructed after a tree crashed into it.

"These picnic grounds represent a joyful community," he says. "Everyone has a story about spending time here."

He walks by a swing set, bocce ball courts, picnic tables built by high school kids. He stops at the worn board where the daily activities were posted. "Sweet," he says.

What prompted these sentimental responses from a man who wrote the 2007 humorous dating book, "Real Men: According to Jim," that included passages about his wasted years?

"Oregon's been leading me," he says, while watching fishermen cast from the riverbank nearby. "I got lured in."

Because Belushi is famous and charismatic, DIY Network decided to film a six-segment show about his house on the Rogue River. "Building Belushi" captured the owner, working alongside the Riverdell Construction crew, or posing next to huge beams held together with old-fashioned scarf joints and pegs, no nails.

The three dwellings, lined up along the river and connected by covered walkways and wide decks, have dedicated purposes: The main house, master suite and guest bunkhouse. Rusted metal barn roofs cap spaces with welcoming couches, cushy chairs and energy-efficient geothermal heating.

Interior designer Ashley Campbell says the style is a blend of Jim Belushi's vision of a rustic retreat and his wife Jenny's wish for a casually elegant family refuge.

The house, Campbell says, was a springboard for the family's influence throughout the valley. "Their continued generosity and passion is palpable," she says.

The great room of the main residence is where Belushi and 17 family members and friends will gather for Thanksgiving.

Above the long dining table is a ceiling with planks salvaged from an old potato farm barn. Supporting the structure are massive longleaf pine beams saved from an 1868 cotton mill.

If guests haven't already heard the story, Belushi will point toward a crack in one of the beams and make them squint. "Look here," he says. There are still wisps of cotton wedged in there.

He clutches his heart. Everything he talks about is meaningful to him.

He will tell you that he's a different man in Oregon. He didn't come here to escape Hollywood or find peace and quiet. He had a vision and he's seeing it through.

"I'm not here to own this beautiful property, but to share it," he says.

Consider it his gift.

—Janet Eastman | 503-294-4072

jeastman@oregonian.com