The man’s dead. Died in 2010, heart problems, tragedy. But strange thing is—his name shows up more now. On t-shirts, grinder lids, protest signs, Oakland murals. Folk hero stuff. It’s like he never left. Every time someone lights up a Jack Herer joint and babbles about plant consciousness or renewable fibers or good goddamn vibes—it’s the resurrection. Living weed-story. That’s rare. Strains don’t usually echo their namesakes like this. If Jack were alive, he’d be grinning and coughing and saying, “Told ya.” And for those still trying to channel that mix of truth and buzz, there’s only one real spot:
https://jackhererseedsbank.com.
Jack Lives On
