Judy Garland’s Hibiscus Gift to Gorgeous George: When Hollywood Met Wrestling in the Garden

June 10, 1922

On this day, the illustrious Frances Ethel Gumm—later known to the adoring masses as Judy Garland—drew her first breath in Grand Rapids, Minnesota, a quaint hamlet situated approximately 165 miles north of our delightful Maple Grove.

What a fortuitous day for the entertainment world, though I daresay few gardeners mark their calendars for the birth of this particular songstress.

Yet how fascinating to discover the horticultural connections of even our most celebrated performers!

For when the flamboyant professional wrestler George Raymond Wagner—who pranced and preened under the nom de guerre "Gorgeous George"—announced his retirement from the sweaty confines of the ring, he declared with unexpected refinement:

"No more wrestlin'... I'm takin' up gardening."

Upon hearing this revelation of botanical aspiration, Miss Garland—clearly possessing more gardening acumen than one might expect from a Hollywood starlet—promptly dispatched several pots of her prized hibiscus to the former grappler.

One must wonder if these vibrant tropical blooms found happy residence in Mr. Wagner's garden, or if they withered under his presumably heavy-handed care.

The hibiscus, with its bold, trumpet-shaped flowers, seems a particularly apt gift from one performer to another—both the plant and the celebrities demanding attention and admiration.

Did Garland select them for their dramatic flair, I wonder?

Or perhaps for their resilience, as both the hibiscus and Miss Garland herself demonstrated remarkable fortitude throughout their respective careers.

One can only imagine the correspondence that might have accompanied such a gift.

Did the diminutive diva include instructions for their care?

Did she recommend a sheltered position with protection from harsh winds, much as she herself might have benefited from similar guardianship in the brutal climate of Hollywood?

The hibiscus, unlike Miss Garland, thrives with consistent warm temperatures and abhors the cold—a preference our Minnesota-born songstress might have envied during those frigid northern winters of her youth. Yet both the plant and the performer reward their admirers with spectacular displays when properly nurtured.

How delightful to contemplate this unexpected horticultural connection between the ruby-slippered warbler and the golden-locked wrestler—a reminder that the garden unites the most unlikely of companions in its democratic soil.

For whether one has traversed the yellow brick road or the wrestling mat, all paths eventually lead to the garden, where even the most glamorous must dirty their hands in pursuit of beauty.