Erna Knutsen: The Unsung Heroine of Specialty Coffee

Atoni Lucien I name her the mother of specialty coffee.

Our lives, all of them, are lived in versions.

I have a version of my life, my parents have another, my siblings another, and for every person I count as a friend or acquaintance, there are yet more versions of my life.

This is not news to anyone.

Famous people famously have many biographies written about them, many different versions of who they were and what they did or didn’t do.

Erna Knutsen was not a famous person, generally. She was a famous person, specifically.

The regular world, the world that is not engrossed and consumed by, obsessed and beset by coffee, that world may not know who Erna Knutsen was.

The coffee world—and not just the specialty coffee world—knows who Erna Knutsen was, though we may not agree on any one version of her story. But I think we might all agree, or most of us, on a version of the person.

She was generous, if not to a fault, then beyond normal, with her time, knowledge, and understanding.

For years before the Specialty Coffee Association of America (now the SCA) hired its first professional staff person, Erna was the unofficial spokesperson for the industry, speaking to reporters about the new fad known as specialty coffee.

Perhaps because her story can be understood as something of an underdog story, she loved to see people succeed against the expectations if not the odds; and while she was not at all shy of the spotlight, she was likely to drag someone else into the spotlight with her to share it.

She had a guffaw that bordered on a cackle and yet was thoroughly charming because it was so genuine, and often surprising, because if anyone could find humor in unexpected places, it was Erna Knutsen.

“During the discussion after one cupping session, Erna had scored a particular sample much higher than the rest of the jury, so Paul asked her to explain what she liked so much about that coffee.

She put on her reading glasses, perused her cupping sheet for a few seconds, then looked up and replied, ‘Oh… I’m sleeping with the farmer!’” -career coffee professional Stephen Vick, talking about the Cup of Excellence jury in Nicaragua, 2006 .

Erna died in June 2018. At 96, she was well past the age when we ask what it was that caused her death. Enough was enough. She had already lived more than one life by any measure and for those of us who claim coffee as a living, it was her second life that meant the most, her coffee life.

Erna’s father, Edwin, died just three months before his 100th birthday.

Long life was in her blood, is one way to put it. Another way would be to say that long life was in her spirit, and her spirit was needed to launch an industry.

To give away the ending, that is what Erna Knutsen did.