Buckets of Green
By Neil Morgan
Monday, Feb. 12, 2007 | If, in some rush of nostalgia, you seek a trace of the elegant San Diego that survives only in perfumed memories, you will surely be guided to take tea on the terrace at Hotel del Coronado.
Or you may somehow wangle an invitation to lunch, as I once was, with the ladies of the Wednesday Club. They occupy an inconspicuous and normally impenetrable clubhouse on an alley in Hillcrest.
My visit to the Wednesday Club may leave chills in their memories as well as mine. As their luncheon speaker that day, I had the ill fortune of bringing with me their first news of federal indictments that would quickly scandalize San Diego City Hall and convert more than one Honorable into a potential prisoner. As I remember, the ladies and I abandoned other subjects and plunged into a spirited discussion of the declining state of civic affairs.
That scandal has not ended and I have not recently been invited back to the Wednesday Club. For the time being, perhaps, neither they nor I are prepared to risk it.
My alternative source of such memories is a strangely cluttered bit of farmland, a mile or so to the west, near Midway Drive and Pacific Highway. It is the Walter Andersen nursery. One drives past a nearly inaccessible huddle of redwood slats, terra cotta pots; of sparkling flower beds and adolescent trees that beg to go home with you.
A main San Diego post office was once on some part of this nursery, and a used car lot, and visitors parked there to cross Midway Drive to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot. Thousands went to work in that neighborhood each morning, and most of them disappeared inside the metal shelters where shiny signs read "Convair Plant Two."
But these days, the Walter Andersen nursery almost seems to draw more traffic to this neighborhood than Convair. For those of us drawn to the joy of growing things, it is a place to drop by to see what's new, to see what's in bloom and what's out of the question.
Cars drive away from the gate of the nursery loaded heavy with greenery sticking out of windows, with pots and flats and with sacks of soil and fertilizers. Grown men who duck out early on business lunches stop off at Walter Andersen and make unlikely excuses for getting back to the office late.
The nursery is managed now by fourth-generation Andersens, and it has grown thick with community history. It opened in 1928 in Old Town. A store twice as large operates now in Poway. And there are usually strong young guys to lay out paper seat covers and hoist your prizes into the back seat and trunk of your car.
Getting those heavy buckets home is another matter. We gardeners never suffer buyers' remorse ... except when unloading!
Reader Feedback
Comments are now displayed with the newest at the bottom. Not sure you're seeing all of the comments? Click here:
Comments so far on this story: 1. Doc Patch wrote on February 12, 2007 2:19 PM:
"Mr. Neil Morgan, I just love your essays. They remind me of the nicer things about being a San Diego native. This one reminds me of your former stories about your Cuymaca cabin, and your wife's rose garden, before the Cedar fires of 2003. As the years go by, it is the ever-renewed spring of our gardens that confirms for us that life is eternal. Doc Patch"
Feedback Rules
Users may post more than one comment, but should not pose as multiple users. Multiple posts from the same IP address but with a different user name on each will be reviewed to determine whether abuse has occurred.
Posts with overly personal attacks or unsubstantiated allegations may be edited or deleted.
Please be patient with the posts -- there may be a delay before they appear on the site -- and make sure to enter the code in the "image verification" box.
Add Your Comments
|
PRINT 
E-MAIL STORY
SHARE
FACEBOOK
REDDIT
NEWSVINE
DIGG
DEL.ICIO.US
BLINKLIST
