A Life Among Leaves: Remembering Charles Theodore Mohr

July 17, 1901

On this day, dear readers, we bid farewell to a most curious botanical gentleman, one Charles Theodore Mohr, who has shuffled off this mortal coil at the respectable age of seventy-seven.

While society concerns itself with the usual frivolities, I find myself contemplating the rather more substantial legacy of a man who dedicated his life to cataloguing Alabama's verdant offerings.

Our German-born protagonist, educated in Stuttgart and trained as a pharmacist, lived a life that might make even the most adventurous among us raise an approving eyebrow. Before settling in Alabama, Mohr embarked on what one might call a most extravagant botanical world tour—collecting specimens in Surinam, chasing gold in California (how delightfully impulsive!), and establishing temporary residences in Mexico, Indiana, and Kentucky.

One cannot help but wonder what botanical treasures and personal scandals he encountered along the way.

In 1857, with perhaps more stability than his previous exploits would suggest, he established Chas. Mohr & Son Pharmacists and Chemists in Mobile, Alabama. Behind that respectable façade, however, lurked the soul of a most dedicated collector.

For decades—while others concerned themselves with social climbing and gossip—Mohr painstakingly gathered plant specimens and information for his magnum opus on Alabama flora. His dedication resulted in an impressive 15,000 specimens donated to the University of Alabama Herbarium and a further 18,000 to the United States National Herbarium.

Such numbers!

One must appreciate a man who collects plants with the same fervor that certain society matrons collect scandals.

The publication of his definitive work on Alabama plants coincided with his seventy-seventh year—proof, dear readers, that one's golden years need not be idle!

While others fade into obscure retirement, Mohr ensured his name would be whispered among botanical circles for generations to come.

Indeed, the botanical community has immortalized our dear departed pharmacist in the most fitting way possible—through nomenclature.

I present to you the plants that now bear his name, each a living monument to his contributions:

• Andropogon mohrii, Mohr's bluestem of the Grass family—swaying as if to whisper his secrets.
• Aristida mohrii, Mohr's threeawn, another grassy tribute.
• Eupatorium mohrii, Mohr's thoroughwort of the Aster family—how thoroughly appropriate!
• Marshallia mohrii, the charmingly named Mohr's Barbara's buttons.
• Rudbeckia mohrii, Mohr's coneflower, reaching toward the sun as Mohr reached for knowledge.
• Silphium mohrii, Mohr's rosinweed, surely as persistent as the man himself.
• Tephrosia mohrii, the pineland hoarypea of the Pea family—perhaps a nod to his venerable age?
• And finally, Quercus mohriana, the Mohr oak—strong, enduring, and deeply rooted in American soil, much like Mohr's botanical legacy.

As you tend to your gardens this summer, dear readers, perhaps spare a thought for Charles Theodore Mohr, who has now gone to that great herbarium in the sky.

His life reminds us that the most remarkable collections are built not overnight but through decades of passionate pursuit—a lesson applicable to gardens and gossip alike.