Look Who it Was Random video

Hester Martz tightwad potting plants method

1,210 views · Published 12 March 2013 · 1:45 · Indexed 21 September 2026

Channel: Robb's Homemade Life · 2013 · Howto & Style

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One of my first jobs out of high school, about a hundred years ago, was working for Hester Martz in her commercial plant nursery in North Miami. I got along well with all of the employees. I was the only one. She was very old and could not afford to retire. 
She could also not afford to pay much at all, which is about what I got paid.

She would buy a dump truck of good top soil at a time from an old nursery worker friend. Hester and her husband had worked in a local nursery in the neighborhood run by Mr and Mrs Hogshead, before starting their own plant nursery. Harry drove a taxi at night to get the nursery off the ground, or maybe I should say, in it. 

Hester also bought hundreds of used number 10 metal food cans from a Lutheran church member who was a school cafeteria lady at a cost of only a  few cents a piece. The cans would come stacked in cardboard trays made from boxes and we would use the trays to grow seedlings.She did not buy much else. 
Hester was a tightwad. We got along fine. 

 Nearly 100 percent of the plants were grown on site from air layering or cuttings or spores or seeds. It was wonderful. To see the cycle of plant growth, to propagate everything and nurture and and help it grow and then sell to some one to replant out in the world was extremely satisfying. Also, working with plants was so refreshing as they had certain needs and requirements, and if you met them, they rewarded you. There was no office politics, political correctness, turf wars or social or cultural  or personal bias. Plants do not care about you. Not how smart or rich or poor or stupid. Do what they need and they will do what you want them to. We grew thousands of plants. A little of us was everywhere in south Florida. It was the most relaxing and least tense job I ever held.

 Twice a week we watered the entire stock by hand, Hester was too poor and cheap to install automatic watering, and the land would be a big puddle after our hiking with the hoses. I would walk barefoot all day.
 I also got to work barefoot in the merchant marines in my next job.
One of my fondest memories is telling a boss much later in life, in a much more sophisticated and  civilized and technological and business oriented job that all the best jobs I ever had were ones I could work barefoot. The look I received is not describable, but unforgettable, and still enjoyable.

  To grow our thousands of seedlings we would make mud pies in the cardboard trays with dark rich humus filled compost. We used our fingers like 3 year olds. I have to admit it was a major part of the appeal.
 We sat on 5 gallon metal cans sitting under shady paper trees and ficus. The cans we sat on would slowly sink into the dark dirt and our knees would rise up to meet us as we sat and stooped and worked and played in the mud in the cardboard trays. We made dozens at a time. Before the wet seedling dirt dried in a day or two  we would score it with a dull shiny butter knife into little squares, poke holes with our fingers,and later add the seeds to the finger holes and cover with loose fine soil and Milorganite

 We kept the boxes moist in a shady area and in no time at all we would get our rewards.
 Mostly what we grew from seeds were  Asparagus springerrii that was used for hanging plants and containers and borders. The asparagus springerrii can be a major nuisance if let loose in the garden.

 Now, I know all of you professional gardeners will tell me there are better ways to grow seedlings.You are right.But I don't know of any cheaper.I can't remember any more fun.

After 2 years I finally left the nursery and went into the merchant marines for a short while  to work on oil tankers and container ships sailing out of Miami and Tampa.
Soon after I left, real estate development, sprawl and urban growth came to our neighborhood,and  Hester finally sold her small nursery and spent her last days going on church sponsored trips all across the country.  She told me one day during our lunch break, when she was younger, her and her husband Harry  had been invited to go to Alaska. Harry did not want to go.
 The bitterness was in her voice 40 years later. She would tell me,
"If someone asks you to go somewhere, you should GO!"

 After she left the nursery business she was always on the go. She was on a trip to an early bird with friends and was a passenger in a car that got hit by a careless driver and she died a week later from her injuries.
 There are much worse ways to go.
 I no longer have acres to grow plants in. I just have a few feet on a balcony. 
 I am discovering the plants have not changed, nor does the feeling I get from growing them.

Robb Moffett

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