Baltimore Sun, Saturday July 28, 2001

As early morning sun bathes the sidewalks in Charles Village, it seems a perfect day to chill out, to contemplate life, or, perhaps, to protest the sale of veal.

Kerron Ramnath is already sitting in his green plastic chair outside Eddie’s Market on St. Paul Street. For several days he has been collecting signatures he hopes will lead the store to stop offering veal. Which, in turn, will end the cruel treatment of veal calves. The poster on his backpack reads "Say No To Veal." Photos of caged, miserable creatures stare reproachfully at cheerful passers-by.

"Veal is perhaps the cruelest method of veal production," Ramnath tells those who notice him. Veal calves are taken from their mothers and kept in crates so small that they cannot develop the muscles that would make their meat tougher, he explains. They are fed an all-liquid diet, one deficient in iron, so that their flesh remains pale.

The small, slender protester is a college student from Montgomery, Ala., who is taking summer courses in computer science and history at Johns Hopkins University. A vegan—one who shuns all products made from animals—he decided to protest the sale of veal after attending an animal-rights conference. But why Eddie's? Particularly this Eddie's? Why choose an establishment better known for its tasty coffee than its veal saltimbocca?

Ramnath picked this particular spot, he says, because he is staying in the area and has no car. And because it sells veal products.

That last fact came as a surprise to store owner Jerry Gordon, a trim man who doesn't eat red meat for health reasons.

"When he demanded we stop selling veal, I said that's very easy because we don't even carry it," he recalls.

Not true, Ramnath insisted. The frozen food isle revealed the truth: a Swanson's Traditional Favorites dinner with veal parmagana.

Gordon was taken aback: A protest campaign over a veal TV dinner? Didn't the young man want to go someplace where they sold fresh veal? Someplace much bigger? Or with a more upscale clientele?

But the 20-year-old had already made a stand. Nine veal TV dinners were still nine too many. "I'm just starting out," he explains. "This is like climbing a staircase. You go one step at a time. You tackle the easiest one first, you get experience at that, and then move on to higher targets."

Jerry Gordon has many college customers. He respects Ramnath's beliefs and decided to honor his request. But not without some work on his part. “I told him ‘not so fast. I'm not just getting rid of the veal just because you don't want it. You've got to tell me that my customers don't want veal.’ I told him, 'you put in a full week of 40 hours [educating customers and getting signatures] and we'll take out the veal.’”

Ramnath accepted the challenge.

Since Tuesday, the student has punched in and out on Eddie's time clock, organizing shifts which allow him to attend his classes. He's collected close to 400 signatures. Occasionally a colleague fills in for him, which is fine with Jerry Gordon.

“I'm not a dictator," the owner says. “I don't care if he gets relief for a few hours. But on the first day, when he was sitting in one of my chairs, I said, 'get up! Act like a protester!'”

When you meet Ramnath, you understand why the store owner is behaving like a coach. Calling the student unassuming is something of an overstatement.

Jerry Gordon contemplates the consequences of agreeing to pull his line of veal TV dinners, “How many calves am I going to save by discontinuing this one row? I might sell a case every two month. But if I won't offer it anymore, it will be a notch in this kid's belt. And we'll see if it sends him on to a larger target.”