The Greenhouse Odyssey: Six-A Cactus For The Queen
By Lorraine Miller
Now the hard work begins. Time to make sales calls. I was unsure of how to begin.
Phone calls didn’t seem the way to go. I was selling something that had to be seen. I loaded the van with all sizes and shapes of cactus and with a yellow pages list of florists and garden centers, I set out. When I was a little girl, I went door to door with my radio flyer filled with rocks. 5 cents each. Same. Same
To my surprise, I sold out within 3 or 4 stops. I repeated this several days in a row. Wow! People were gobbling this stuff up. On top of that, customers from the Grass Menagerie had tracked me down and, despite not having a parking lot, they found a place to put their cars. I never turned anyone away.
I quickly learned that financial success in a wholesale business is dependent on volume.
I wouldn’t make it selling 15 or 20 plants at a time. I pumped up my courage and called on the purchasing agent for the grocery chain Safeway. The guy ordered 60 flats of 2” cactus. He warned me to make sure they were properly boxed or he’d be shipping cactus salad. Cactus salad? I’d eaten that before. It’s not tasty. Boxes? My own shipments came in boxes but I couldn’t reuse them. I scrambled for a container manufacturer.
Once the boxes were ready, I called on another chain, Ernst Home Centers. It was a good sale but required shipping to Pocatello, Idaho. I couldn’t find a trucking company that would carry such a small load as a dozen cases so I packed the order in the van and made the delivery myself.
The following morning, I got a call from the nursery manager. She was hopping mad. She threatened to throw the whole shipment away because the plants had mealy bug.
I asked her to describe what she was seeing. I knew immediately the cactus she was talking about, Astrophytum myriostigma. Its common name is Star Cactus or Bishop’s Cap. The meaning of its botanical name tells all. The genus, always capitalized, is Astrophytum, literally meaning star plant. The meaning of its specific or species name, always lower case, is myriostigma. That’s pretty simple to grasp. ‘Myrio’ is from the word ‘myriad’ or many. ‘Stigma’ means stain or dot.
Thus, the Botanical Latin describes the plant: a star shaped plant with many dots.
I couldn’t explain that to her. I was all blah, blah, blah and she was all mad. I begged her not to throw them away and the next day I drove back to Pocatello.
Things were starting to shake. The phone was ringing with wholesale orders. Somehow, regular people were hearing about Cactus Growers of Utah. Maybe they also heard there was no parking so they rode the bus. I don’t know. But they were coming.
The red Volkswagen van, over hill and dale, through long-haul and short, was sent to pasture.
Deliveries were brisk and a bigger vehicle was needed, one that could hold racks for flats. I went to a downtown car dealership and introduced myself to a salesman. I told him what I was looking for and we walked around the lot. He more or less followed me. We came to a red Chevy van. I liked it because the interior had not been finished, making it easy to install shelving. I told the salesman I was interested and asked if I could please take it for a test drive. He didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything.
I asked him again, “Can you get the keys? I’d like to drive it?”
After another long silence, he stammered, “But ma’am, are you the decision-maker?” He must have wanted my husband’s signature or a credit card. It was another tortured lesson in the difficulties women had in borrowing money.
“Please get the keys,” I answered.
I guess I was the decision-maker because I decided to buy it and we went back to the showroom. I gave him my driver’s license and he disappeared for a while, probably doing a credit check. When he came back, he was wearing a big smile and he said, “Ma’am, you’re good people! Follow me.” He led me behind the curtain to the finance office.
One day, the Chief of staff of Salt Lake City Mayor Palmer de Paulus came in. Salt Lake was the sister city to London and the Mayor wanted to send Queen Elizabeth ll a Saquarro. Aw, Providence.
I’m back in the bureaucratic world and this time, it’s just so cool.
The Giant Saquarro’s botanical name is Carnegiea gigantea, named after the steel magnate, Andrew Carnegie, no doubt, a giant of a man. (See how the Botanical name gives you info about the plant?) It is indigenous to Arizona. It is also on the IUCN Red List of endangered species. It is a Federal offense to collect Saquarros without permit and the fine is steep. However, there are nurseries who work with the Federal Government. When land or habitat is to be developed or disturbed, they are allowed to collect. Each plant has a metal collar attached with an ID and batch number.
It took almost a year to complete all the necessary red tape on both sides of the Atlantic. A myriad of letters from various departments, a batch permit, an export visa from the U.S., an import certificate from the United Kingdom. What’s more, the Saquarro, now named ‘Fred’ by the Brits, was going to live in the greenhouses of the newly constructed and now famous, Barbican Conservatory.
They required proof of acquisition, customs clearance and phytosanitary clearance from Arizona, Utah and California. California was included because Utah did not have a direct flight to London so Fred would have to fly to Los Angeles before crossing the ocean.
A ‘coffin’ was built to transport Fred, who weighed 150 lbs.
He was carefully swaddled in carpet strips. Mayor dePaulis sent along a red and white knitted cap and muffler with the words Salt Lake City in white letters as he wrote to the Queen, “just to protect Fred from the English Weather!”
Fred was the first Saquarro to live in a public greenhouse in Great Britain. Apparently, he caused quite a stir, especially when he was visited by Queen Elizabeth I, the Queen’s Mum.
That was exciting, sending a giant Saquarro to the Queen of England. But something even more fantastic happened. Mr. Stuppy dropped by. Yes, the living, breathing Mr. Stuppy, the architect of my greenhouse, my cathedral, my holy place. He was on vacation, driving from Kansas to California with his wife and toy poodle, Snippy, who wore a diamond collar. He stopped at Cactus Growers to see his progeny. Sending Fred to the Barbican in London was cool. No doubt about it. But Mr. Stuppy at my place? I’ve never been so proud!
