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Into the Garden with Charles: A Memoir

Clyde Wachsberger became an avid gardener in his mid-30s after acquiring a small house and property at the eastern tip of Long Island, New York.  While the garden was his passion, it was a lonely pursuit and he longed to share it with someone.  However, his efforts to find a relationship with another man, “a friend who shared my deepest yearning to be someone special for someone special,” were not successful.

Some years later, and by a remarkable chance with a misplaced personal ad, he connected with Charles Dean, a maître d’hôtel at a high end Manhattan restaurant.  Sparked by their mutual interests and attraction, they quickly established a relationship, much of it built around the same home and garden they now shared named Adworthy House, celebrating their meeting.

They were great experimenters and always eager to try new plants, pushing the limits of their climate zone and indulging in romantic fantasies of tropical flora.  Winter reading of nursery catalogs was a special fascination.  Together they edited an anthology entitled “Of Leaf and Flower: Stories and Poems for Gardeners” (2001), in part to “explain the profound passions and wild obsessions that motivate gardeners.”

Sadly, Dean and Wachsberger’s time together was limited to about 15 years.  Wachsberger developed cancer, but before it took his life, he wrote and illustrated a heartfelt memoir, “Into the Garden with Charles” (2012).  While the author did not minimize the story of his disease, his writing focuses on the strength he found in both the garden and his loved ones.

While the after story is sad, this is an upbeat book about the joy of optimism found in a love of plants, and in the often whacky stories of family, close friends, and a faithful, fuzzy mop of a dog.  The plants are pets, too, often with personal names and always cherished, until they try to smother or overrun everything else.  Gardeners everywhere will understand.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

 

The Book of Landscape Design

Henry Stuart Ortloff and Henry Bond Raymore established a landscape architectural firm in 1924, when both men were in their late 20s.  They lived and worked for over 40 years at Apple Green, a late 18th century house in Huntington, New York on Long Island that was their combination home and office.  According to Steve Whitesell, a landscape architect who completed a master thesis about the partnership, they “wrote frequently and eloquently on the development of the small residential garden.”

Their writing included numerous books and articles, and they were frequent speakers to garden clubs and plant societies.  “The Book of Landscape Design,” published in 1959, summarizes many of their mature ideas about designing both a beautiful home garden and an inviting, public landscape.

It is still well worth reading, both for gaining an understanding of complex design concepts, and as a reminder of the importance of good horticultural practices.  “If the principles of plant ecology are applied to the home landscape, many disappointments will be avoided and a much more permanent and harmonious grouping together of plants will be achieved.”

Whitesell indicates their partnership “was personal, as well as professional,” concluding that “both men were discreet about this aspect of their lives, but they cohabitated openly and their partnership was apparently acknowledged and accepted by neighbors, clients, editors, and associates.”

A search of the archives of “The Long-Islander”, a weekly newspaper published in Huntington, New York, finds frequent references to both.  In the summer of 1949, they traveled to the UK and France, and Raymore sent biweekly journal reports of their travels to the newspaper, including commentaries on the dreadful food in post-war Britain and the pleasures of punting on the River Cherwell at Oxford.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

 

A Book about Soils for the Home Gardener

Henry Stuart Ortloff and Henry Bond Raymore established a landscape architectural firm in 1924, when both men were in their late 20s.  They lived and worked for over 40 years at Apple Green, a late 18th century house in Huntington, New York on Long Island that was their combination home and office.  According to Steve Whitesell, a landscape architect who completed a master thesis about the partnership, they “wrote frequently and eloquently on the development of the small residential garden.”

Their writing included numerous books and articles, and they were frequent speakers to garden clubs and plant societies.  “A Book about Soils for the Home Gardener” is one of the earliest on this topic for a general audience.

Whitesell indicates their partnership “was personal, as well as professional,” concluding that “both men were discreet about this aspect of their lives, but they cohabitated openly and their partnership was apparently acknowledged and accepted by neighbors, clients, editors, and associates.”

A search of the archives of “The Long-Islander”, a weekly newspaper published in Huntington, New York, finds frequent references to both.  In the summer of 1949, they traveled to the UK and France, and Raymore sent biweekly journal reports of their travels to the newspaper, including commentaries on the dreadful food in post-war Britain and the pleasures of punting on the River Cherwell at Oxford.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

 

A Garden Bluebook of Annuals and Biennials

Henry Stuart Ortloff and Henry Bond Raymore established a landscape architectural firm in 1924, when both men were in their late 20s.  They lived and worked for over 40 years at Apple Green, a late 18th century house in Huntington, New York on Long Island that was their combination home and office.  According to Steve Whitesell, a landscape architect who completed a master thesis about the partnership, they “wrote frequently and eloquently on the development of the small residential garden.”

Their writing included numerous books and articles, and they were frequent speakers to garden clubs and plant societies.  “Annuals and Biennials” is an example of a solo work by Ortloff, dedicated “To My Friend, Henry Bond Raymore.”

Whitesell indicates their partnership “was personal, as well as professional,” concluding that “both men were discreet about this aspect of their lives, but they cohabitated openly and their partnership was apparently acknowledged and accepted by neighbors, clients, editors, and associates.”

A search of the archives of “The Long-Islander”, a weekly newspaper published in Huntington, New York, finds frequent references to both.  In the summer of 1949, they traveled to the UK and France, and Raymore sent biweekly journal reports of their travels to the newspaper, including commentaries on the dreadful food in post-war Britain and the pleasures of punting on the River Cherwell at Oxford.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

The Adventurous Gardener’s Sourcebook of Rare and Unusual Plants

Elvin McDonald was a precocious horticulturist.  In order to learn more about growing gloxinias, he started what is now the Gesneriad Society and its journal “Gesneriads when he was only 14, while still working on his family’s farm in Oklahoma.  After studying opera performance at Mannes School of Music in New York City, he embarked on a long career in horticulture as a writer and a photographer.  He has authored or contributed to upwards of 100 books.

In a 1978 column of Plant Talk published in the Chicago Tribune, McDonald tells of an adventure with his friend William Mulligan, visiting orchid greenhouses.  Mulligan was also an accomplished author of horticulture books, best known for his writing on lattices and trellises, and on prominent North American gardens.  In Mulligan’s 1995 obituary in the New York Times, after dying from complications of AIDS at age 52, he is described as being survived “by his companion and frequent writing collaborator, Elvin McDonald.”

Most notable of these collaborations is “The Adventurous Gardener’s Sourcebook of Rare and Unusual Plants,” written by Mulligan with photographs by McDonald and published in 1992.  One of the treasures of my personal library is a copy of this book inscribed by both men.

As the title promises, this book is a source for both viewing and purchasing remarkable plants.  Unfortunately, 30 years later, these resources are often out of date, but this is still a book I recommend.

Why?  For the many great ideas of new plants to try!  While some have become commonplace in subsequent years, many have not and are worth seeking out.  Mulligan addresses any concerns you might have about this habit.  “By only pursuing esoteric species is the adventurous gardener a snob?  Not at all.  Just curious, opinionated, and appreciative of details.”

McDonald was profiled in the March/April 2022 issue of “The American Gardener” by Kelly D. Norris.  Now 85, he has continued an active career in horticulture, including work that was instrumental in the development of the Greater Des Moines Botanical Garden in Iowa, where he lives with his husband, John Zickefoose.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

 

To Eat: A Country Life

Joe Eck and Wayne Winterrowd shared over 40 years together, most of it at a home they called North Hill in Readsboro, Vermont.  This is a long time for any couple, but especially noteworthy for gay men.  Their garden inspired many books, written by each singly or by both.  The Miller Library has eight of their titles on subjects that include annuals, tender perennials, roses, and garden design.   Winterrowd’s “Annuals for Connoisseurs” (1992) is one of my personal favorites.

Eck and Winterrowd met in a gay nightclub in Boston during the late 1960s.  Often such encounters are brief, but they spent much of the night talking together and walking the Boston Common.  They never parted.  Eager for a rural life, they found their Vermont home a few years later, initially making their living as school teachers before transitioning to full-time garden designers and authors.

Most of their books celebrate the many aspects of their life together at North Hill, including raising a son.  Their final book, “To Eat: A Country Life” was started jointly in 2010, but after Winterrowd died suddenly that fall, Eck was left to finish it alone.  The book was published in 2013.  The men shared many passions, but eating had “always been central.”

Bobbi Angell, a noted botanical artist who lived near North Hill, provided the illustrations for “To Eat.”  She also has an essay in the book about a lunch with the couple shortly before Winterrowd’s death.  In a conversation musing about their place in rural Vermont, she concludes: “Wayne and Joe’s life–their plants, their friends, their stories–came from around the world, city and country alike.”

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

Specialty Gardens

Theodore (Ted) James, Jr. (as writer) and Harry Haralambou (as photographer) were prolific producers of gardening books.  Beginning in 1985, they shared a home, dating from 1740, and a garden in Peconic, New York at the east end of Long Island.  Their garden was featured in several of their books, many available in the Miller Library. The best in my judgment being “Specialty Gardens.”

James was a writer on a wide range of topics, including for the travel section of the New York Times and comedy material for theater and cabarets.  His October 2006 obituary in the Times described him as having “a colorful life.  His career took him all over the world.  He loved people, parties and telling stories.”

The writing in “Specialty Gardens” showcases this latter skill, weaving fascinating tales of gardens and gardeners from around the world, always complimented by Haralambou’s photographs.  James had a keen insight to the fanaticism of a special-interest gardener, and encourages the reader to consider joining their ranks.  “Perhaps one of these will interest you, then preoccupy you, and then even addict and possess you.  But not to worry, for gardening is a healthy, relatively inexpensive and rewarding pastime.”

A graduate of Princeton University in 1957, the obituary for James in the Princeton Alumni Weekly referred to his life-partner Harry Haralambou.  “His dear friend Harry was his partner to the end. The class sends its sympathy to all those who knew this gentle man.”  After his partner’s death, Haralambou published his first solo book in 2007, “North Fork Living,” about the community where he and James lived.

 

Excerpted from Brian Thompson’s article in the Fall 2022 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin

Stories from the Leopold Shack: Sand County Revisited

Even if you have never read A Sand County Almanac by the famous conservationist Aldo Leopold, you will enjoy and learn from this memoir by his youngest child.
In the first half of the book, Estella Leopold recounts the family acquisition of Wisconsin farmland, long abandoned, and the remodeling of a decaying barn on the site, so it could be used as a shelter on weekends. They named the barn The Shack.
Aldo Leopold developed the idea of ecological restoration. On his property he wanted to restore the soil and bring back the plants native to the area. The whole family, including the five children, worked on that project, beginning in 1936. Estella describes how her dad filed a sharp edge on the shovels each day before they all dug holes and planted hundreds of pine trees. For this and many other tasks, she makes it sound like they all had fun.
In chapters on each season of the year, the author combines these work activities with experiences with nature they all enjoyed. She tells of skating on the frozen river and seeing a muskrat swimming along under the ice with her. She recounts the many hours she savored being alone in the woods, and the times the children hid to watch the woodcock courtship dance. Aldo Leopold was a professor at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. The Shack was just a few hours from the family home, so the family could visit regularly and invite friends. These had to be tolerant friends, as amenities at the Shack were few. Water came from a hand pump outdoors. The outhouse earned the majestic name “The Parthenon.” Estella describes many nights of singing and guitar playing, with much Spanish music from her mother’s past.
Aldo Leopold set out to restore the prairie to its state before the land was plowed for farming in the mid-1800s. One springtime activity to that end was transplanting wildflowers (springtime because they had to be in bloom to be identified). Sources were unmown places along railroad tracks and country roads, and even private property that had been left unplowed. The family dug up, transported in a tub by car, and planted in their old cornfield prairie grasses and many perennial wildflowers.
In Chapter 7 the author describes the ecological restoration as well as the glacial history of the property. The parents and some of the children learned and recorded the Latin names of all the plants on the property, including the wildflowers they transplanted. The Leopolds had personal relationships with some plants. A few non-natives, like a lilac bush, were allowed near the Shack, because Mother (also named Estella) loved them. Natives they loved included wahoo, serviceberry, trillium, and aspen. Others they were proud to collect and see thrive: turkeyfoot, Indian grass, switchgrass, prairie phlox, and purple coneflower.
Concerned that a fire might wipe out all their planting, Aldo devised a system of protective fire lanes. The family, with helpers, laid tin sheets and supervised the flames with water buckets. Then they noticed that the prairie grasses grew better where they had burned. Years later they adopted the current practice of regular burning.
Chapter 8 recounts the “Continuing Process of Restoration” after Aldo’s death in 1948. He had acquired about 350 acres. Another 1500 acres have been added to what is now the Aldo Leopold Memorial Reserve. Several other Wisconsin prairies have been restored. There is an active study center on the property, and the Aldo Leopold Foundation now meets in the LEED-certified Leopold Center.
Each of the five Leopold children followed in their father’s footsteps by creating a Shack-like project in whatever state they lived. Estella’s work in Colorado led to the establishment of the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument. She is now a professor of botany emerita here at the University of Washington.
The federal government recently announced plans to plant a billion trees to counteract global warming. It’s fun to think it all may have started with the Leopold family laboring over pine seedlings in the 1930s.
Reviewed by Priscilla Grundy for the Leaflet, September 2022, Vol. 9, Issue 9

The Crevice Garden: How To Make The Perfect Home For Plants From Rocky Places

In May 2022, I visited the Denver Botanic Gardens.  After I tore myself away from the array of tall bearded iris at the peak of bloom, I found nearby different renditions of the traditional rock garden.  The rocks were not the smooth, roundish boulders but instead craggy slates, positioned vertically and close together, with only a limited cracks for the plants.

This was my introduction crevice gardening.  This design expands the plant palette for gardeners in the dry, high altitude of the Rockies, but also in our own cool Mediterranean climate, by providing protection from wet winters that kill many plants.

It is appropriate that the new, and almost only, book on this topic – “The Crevice Garden” – has two authors that represent these climate extremes.  Kenton Seth is from western Colorado.  Paul Spriggs understands the needs of Seattle area gardeners from his crevice garden in Victoria, B.C.  Both have careers as gardeners, and discovered their passion for alpine plants in part through backpacking and mountain climbing.

A crevice garden has more rocks than a traditional rock garden, covering at least half of the surface and typically raised to resemble an outcropping of rock.  This keeps the plant tops and roots widely separated and in conditions they both prefer.  The roots need the deep run with dependable moisture and even temperatures.  The leaves and flowers stay dry and free of excessive moisture.

How do you do it?  The design process is somewhat complex, but a detailed guide will take you through each step, from calculating how much of each material (rock, soil, dressing) to design and garden placement.  And yes, planting!  Some 250 plants are recommended, many new to me, but all sound intriguing.  Most important is a location where you can watch your (often tiny) treasures from close by.

Several case studies display beautiful examples, including the garden at Far Reaches Farm in Port Townsend, Washington, appropriately titled “alpines in wet winters.”  The authors appreciate that “gardening continues to be our most common connection to nature” and hope readers will embrace crevices to explore plants previously only available to keen specialists.

 

Reviewed by Brian Thompson for Garden Notes: Northwest Horticultural Society, Fall 2022

The Beginner’s Guide to Growing Great Vegetables

Not just for beginners, Lorene Edwards Forkner’s latest vegetable gardening book is chock full of good advice for all gardeners. If you are a beginner, I suggest reading the opening chapter, “Gardening 101.” For everyone, the chapter entitled “Garden Planning” will help you decide what type and especially how much food growing is realistic for you, including options if you do not have garden space. Like ornamental plants? These are encouraged for edible fruits or flowers, or to attract beneficial insects to protect or pollinate your food crops.The book’s core is a month-by-month calendar showing both the planning and the doing for the time of year, including seasonal essays. For example, September is the time to plan for your fall and winter garden, planting cover crops and saving seeds. October is about cleaning and feeding the garden for the future, especially after the first frost, and creating or enhancing your process for making home compost.Forkner encourages experimentation and keeping a journal of the results. She happily shares her personal experiences, good and bad. “Over the years I’ve experimented with sowing ornamental corn, winter wheat, and fancy French melons. Ultimately, I decided that homegrown popping corn is highly overrated, and my cat took up napping in the middle of my ‘wheat field.'” She concludes that the two tiny Charentais melons her efforts produced “were absolutely delicious–well worth the time and garden space they occupied all summer.”While similar in some ways to her 2012 publication The Timber Press Guide to Vegetable Gardening in the Pacific Northwest, this book incorporates nine more years of Forkner’s experience. Check it out!

Reviewed by Brian Thompson for the Leaflet for Scholars, August 2022, Volume 9, Issue 8.Editor’s note: A longer version of Brian’s review was originally published in the Autumn 2021 issue of Northwest Horticultural Society’s Garden Notes.