
Horses & Open Country
Patrick and his family own horses and regularly ride between their property and Eastmanville Farm County Park. Michigan's land isn't an abstraction to him — it's where his family live their lives.
Before Patrick Kapenga ever thought about running for State Representative, he was a farm kid, a carpet layer, a husband, a father, and a foster parent. This is the story of who Patrick is when the campaign lights are off.
"Over 20 years ago I bought one of my first rental properties and had a city inspection. The inspector told me I needed to do a $2,100 repair. I asked what code was being violated, and he sent me five pages of fine print. There was nothing in there about the repair.
When I called him and respectfully told him it didn't appear there was any code violation, he said something I'll never forget:
"You know you're probably right, but you and I both know if we go before a judge who he's going to side with. So why don't you just do it anyway?"
That's the moment it crystallized for Patrick. A quote he has always kept close, paraphrased from Atlas Shrugged:
"There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power the government has is the power to punish criminals. When there aren't enough criminals, we make enough laws to make sure everyone's a criminal."
"This is why I'm running."
Patrick's path to running for Michigan House District 89 didn't start in a political science classroom. It started with calloused hands, a community college schedule, and the conviction that you build a life by showing up every day.
Patrick's first job was helping on his grandfather's farm — stacking hay bales before most kids his age could ride a bike.
He started out on his hands and knees laying carpet, working his way through community college before finishing his degree at Grand Valley State University.
Grand Valley sharpened the work ethic he grew up with — and opened the door to building something of his own.
Patrick built a career in business and real estate. The lessons from the farm followed him into every venture: show up, work harder than anyone expects, and treat people fairly.

Before politics, before campaigns, there was Jack's Hamburgs. Patrick's great-grandfather Jack Sr. opened the doors in 1961, and the place was run by Patrick's grandfather and Uncle Art on nine-cent burgers and long hours behind the counter.
For Patrick, supporting small businesses isn't a talking point cooked up for a campaign mailer. It's the dinner-table story his family has been telling for four generations — and it shapes how he thinks about regulation, taxes, and the quiet dignity of building something with your own hands.
That instinct carried into his own life. At age five he was baling hay on his grandfather's farm. Later he laid carpet, worked his way through community college, finished his degree at Grand Valley State University, and went on to build businesses of his own.
When the 2008 financial collapse hit, Patrick's family lost everything. They moved in with relatives, tightened every belt they had, and started clawing their way back out of debt — one payment at a time.
They didn't walk away from a single obligation. Every penny they owed, they paid. That experience is the reason Patrick talks about fiscal discipline in Lansing the way he does: he has lived what happens when the numbers stop working, and he knows what it takes to rebuild.
Patrick's wife Cherith has been at his side through every chapter — the early years, the 2008 collapse, the rebuild, and now a campaign for the State House. Together they raised their daughter Christelle and son Xander, and opened their home as foster parents along the way.
Faith is the throughline. Patrick talks about his calling to serve as something he prayed about before he put his name on a ballot, and it shows in how he approaches the work: less like a politician chasing a title, more like a neighbor who was asked to step up and said yes.
Family is the anchor that makes the rest of it possible. Every early morning at the gym, every long day on the campaign trail, every hard conversation with a voter — it all traces back to the people he walks through the front door to see at the end of the day.

Patrick with his wife Cherith, daughter Christelle, and son Xander.
Campaign bios flatten people. Here's a less flat version — the horses in the pasture, the barbell in the gym, and the tactical gear in the training room.

Patrick and his family own horses and regularly ride between their property and Eastmanville Farm County Park. Michigan's land isn't an abstraction to him — it's where his family live their lives.

A fit body builds a fit mind. Patrick trains every single day — not for vanity, but because he believes physical discipline is inseparable from mental discipline and the kind of stamina public service actually demands.

Patrick regularly trains alongside SWAT team members and competes in 2A competitions. He even opens his own properties for law enforcement to use for tactical training and education — putting his Second Amendment convictions into practice.
Patrick didn't start serving his community when he filed to run. He has been doing it for decades — in boardrooms, in jails, at Eastown Ministries, and everywhere in between.
10 years serving on the board of directors of a foster care agency — helping shape how vulnerable kids in West Michigan are cared for.
Patrick and his wife Cherith opened their home as respite foster parents for years, giving full-time foster families the relief they needed to keep going.
Volunteered with Kent County jail and work release programs, spending time with men trying to rebuild their lives from the inside out.
Seven years serving inner-city kids from fatherless homes in Grand Rapids. This is where Patrick saw firsthand what a missing father does to a community — and why he takes the role so seriously.
Patrick spent many years at the Acton Institute, where faith, free markets, and liberty are studied together. It shaped how he thinks about government, charity, and human dignity.
Daily gym attendance, 2A competitions, and tactical training aren't hobbies — they're the framework Patrick has used his entire adult life to stay sharp for the people depending on him.
In January 2026, Patrick gathered neighbors, friends, and family at his campaign announcement party. The room was small, but what it held was bigger than any of them — a family legacy of public service, a handoff from the district's outgoing representative, and the start of a real fight for District 89.

Patrick (right) in conversation with his brother, Wisconsin State Senator Chris Kapenga (left), and outgoing Michigan District 89 Rep Luke Meerman (center) at the January 2026 announcement party.
A Family Legacy
Patrick's older brother Chris Kapenga serves as a state senator in Wisconsin, and he came home to West Michigan to stand beside Patrick at the announcement. Public service runs on both sides of Lake Michigan in the Kapenga family — and that night, Chris was helping pass the torch to his brother.
The District 89 Handoff
Luke Meerman — the current District 89 House Rep, who has chosen not to run again — joined Patrick and Chris for a long, lively conversation that night. Three men with decades of public service between them, and one shared conviction about what Lansing needs from District 89 next.
This Is Why Patrick Is Running
Now Patrick is asking District 89 to send someone to Lansing who knows what a hay bale, a payroll sheet, and a foster kid's face all have in common — they all represent people counting on you to show up.