From Seeds to Stories: Henry Field’s Book of a Thousand Gardens

April 25, 1911

On this day in the annals of gardening history, a most remarkable exchange took place between two devoted horticulturists. Harry Radlund, a persistent gardener from Kilbourn, Wisconsin, shared his triumphant tale of botanical conquest with Henry Field, the esteemed founder of the Henry Field Seed Company in Shenandoah, Iowa.

Dear readers, allow me to transport you to a time when the art of gardening was not merely a hobby, but a passion that coursed through the veins of those who tilled the earth. It was an era when letters penned by calloused hands carried the weight of hard-earned wisdom, each word a testament to the trials and triumphs of cultivating nature's bounty.

In 1911, our dear Henry Field, a visionary in the world of seeds and soil, embarked upon a most noble quest. His mission? To gather and preserve the gardening experiences of his loyal customers, weaving their stories into a tapestry of horticultural knowledge that would inspire generations to come.

The fruit of Henry's labor was a tome of unparalleled beauty and insight: The Book of a Thousand Gardens. Oh, what a treasure trove of gardening lore it proved to be! Allow me to share with you Henry's own words from the foreword, which capture the essence of this remarkable compilation:

I requested them to send in the stories of their gardens, true unvarnished stories telling what they grew, how they grew it, what paid best, how big the garden was, what troubles they had, and how they overcame them. Also asked them to send in some pictures if possible.

These letters are the result. And they are the most interesting batch of letters I ever read.

They are real heart to heart talks, told in their own language and in their own way. And the pictures, well you can look at them for yourself. Every garden was a real garden not a paper garden. The people were real people like you and I and our neighbors. There were men and women and boys and little girls and old bachelors. They were all garden cranks and garden lovers.

You can learn more by a study of these letters than by reading all the text books in creation. You get the real stuff here. Real experience.

The only trouble was, I run short of room in the book. It would have taken a book as big as Webster's Unabridged to hold them all in full.

Among the myriad tales of horticultural heroism, one story in particular caught my eye - that of Harry Radlund, our intrepid gardener from Kilbourn, Wisconsin. Harry's tale is a veritable symphony of perseverance, a testament to the indomitable spirit that resides within every true gardener's heart.

For ten long years, Harry had waged a valiant battle against the stubborn kale that refused to grace his garden with its presence. Lesser men might have abandoned hope, turning their attention to more obliging vegetables. But not our Harry! With the tenacity of a bulldog and the patience of a saint, he persisted in his quest to cultivate this elusive leafy green.

And lo, in the spring of 1911, Harry's persistence was finally rewarded! His garden, once barren of kale, now burst forth with vibrant green leaves, standing proud at three and a half feet tall. Oh, what joy must have filled Harry's heart as he gazed upon his hard-won harvest!

But Harry's triumphs did not end with kale. Allow me to share with you his own words, penned on that fateful day of April 25, 1911:

On April 23d, I planted some kale seed from you. We tried to raise kale for ten years but never had any success. This year, the best is about 3 1/2 feet high and about three feet wide without spreading the leaves.

On the same day planted some dill, parsley, onion seed and onion sets. The dill grew good and went to seed, the parsley didn't grow very good. My early cabbage grew good and all the heads were used.

The first planting of radishes was on April 25th, and I have had radishes all summer. The Shenandoah tomatoes in the garden are dandies, the best we ever had. So are the cucumbers. My cauliflower didn't grow very well in the warm weather, but is growing fine now.

Dear gardeners, let Harry's story serve as an inspiration to us all. In the face of adversity, when our soil seems unyielding and our seeds reluctant, let us remember Harry Radlund and his triumphant kale. For in the world of gardening, persistence is the key that unlocks nature's bounty.

As we tend to our own plots, be they vast or modest, let us carry with us the spirit of those gardeners from a century past. Their wisdom, born of trial and error, of successes and failures, still blooms as vibrantly today as it did in 1911. May we, like Harry, find joy in every radish that graces our table, every tomato that ripens on the vine, and yes, even in the stubborn kale that finally decides to grace us with its presence.

For in the end, dear readers, it is not merely plants that we cultivate, but the very essence of life itself. Happy gardening, one and all!