I
am sure you will understand how things like this happen because they have
probably happened to you too. Today, I was walking across the parking lot at
HEB and there was a heavy mist that wasn’t heavy enough to be rain falling. The
wind must have blown it into my face and at that must have triggered something
in my mind. It wasn’t a memory – it was more like a flashback. For a split
second I was back at Myers Plant Co., the home of 50,000 plants, on a misty
March day. Myers Plant Co., in our minds, wasn’t the company dad founded with
his best friend, his dad – James Henry Myers (my “granddaddy”). Myers Plant Co.
was our identity – we were Myers Plant Co.
When
I was a kid, back before granddaddy died (1953), it was the place where, on a
March day like this, I could run out into one of our greenhouses and find my
dad, granddad, grandmother and aunt Pauline potting plants. Everything at Myers
Plant Co. revolved around the seasons and spring was “the season” we all lived
for. That was when hundreds of people would find their way to 302 Erie Street
to buy our plants. In the fall we made cuttings from all kinds of plants and in
the winter dad planted many trays of seeds to supply those plants for our
customers. Beginning in January we started potting all of things – thousands and thousands of them – in bands,
pots and buckets (we bought all of the one gallon buckets local school
cafeterias received food).
Potting
season was fun for me back then, because I was surrounded by family all working
together to get ready for spring. (Spring was really good because that was when
dad had more money in the bank than any other time of year.) While we were
potting, other uncles, aunts and cousins would regularly drop by and visit. You
see, while everyone was potting they were talking – telling stories, sharing old memories, kidding each other, etc.
Since this was a time before I had any competitors for their attention – Glenn,
Linda & Gary – I benefited from being in the spotlight.
Later,
after granddaddy died and aunts, uncles and cousins moved away, things changed.
But, good memories were still made during potting season at Myers Plant Co.
First, my “other” brother – Danny Bodine – became part our family. Danny was a
neighbor my age that dad hired to help us. My “little” brother Glenn, was too
little to help and Danny became like a brother to me, and another son to mom
and dad.
Over
the years, however, the person I probably spent the most time with during
potting season was my brother Glenn. I have tons of great memories sitting by
him potting, listening to radio programs, talking about any and every thing
(good, bad & otherwise). I guess
that “potting season” and “family time” are eternally linked in my mind.
Anyway,
today, when that mist hit my face – for that split second I felt being at Myers
Plant Co. with dad, granddad, grandmother, aunt Pauline & those other
aunts, uncles & cousins before 1953.
May
their memories be blessed!
James,
Jim or Jr.
