MEMBER PROFILE 



Eagle Mountain Evergreens 

 — Coming Home 



Each November for the last eigh- 

 teen years, Kirk Weyant has gone 

 to Maine, up to Calais, and 

 rented the former Cole's Express 

 Building in nearby Woodland. It's 

 big— 100x100— with loading 



docks for tractor taller trucks on 

 all four sides — just right for the 

 production and shipment of 

 wreathes. 



For that month, he rents a 

 place to live — maybe a Winebago 

 or, with luck, a picturesque camp 

 on a lake — and settles in to run 

 Eagle Mountain Evergreens. 



But this year, it's different. 

 He's rented an old mill building in Franklin, where he 

 and his family live, set up his machines, and hired lo- 

 cal help. He's able to live at home, go home for 

 lunch, work in his office in the evenings. 



Kirk's involvment with wreath-making began in 

 1979, when Kirk was manager/grower at Gold 

 Star Sod Farm and Nursery in Cantetbury. 



Gold Star decided to make and sell its own 

 wreathes. Kirk went to Maine, looked around, and 

 chose the area around Calais — an area with plenty of 

 the basic raw material, balsam — as his base of opera- 

 tion. He found the building and began developing a 

 network of workers and suppliers. Wreath production 

 became an annual event. 



In 1991, when he left Gold Star, he decided to 

 continue in the business and founded Eagle Mountain 

 Evergreens. 



When he became a partner in Gateway Gardens in 

 1993, Eagle Mountain became a subsidiary. Through- 

 out all these shifts, the business has continued to 

 grow. This year, Eagle Mountain produced over 

 50,000 wreathes. 



People and techniques have remained pretty much 

 the same. 



Garlands and larger (24-inch to 84) wreathes are 

 produced in the central location. Three Kelko wreath- 



Kirk's hired a dozen Bosnian refugees 



sponsored by the Lutheran Social Services 



and now living in Franklin. 



making and one garland-making 

 machine are set up; suppliers 

 deliver their boughs. 



Some were soldiers; 

 some are here with their families 



With no homes left 



T"J 



and no knowledge of English, 



without work in their accustomed fields. 



they're literally starting over. 



rgest volume, however, 

 in the smaller sizes. 

 Wreath-making is a cottage in- 

 dustry in the border country in 

 both Canada and Maine and 

 most of the small sizes (eight- 

 inch up to 20) are made by 

 people in their own homes. 

 Sometimes they organize into 

 larger groups. One of Kirk's 

 subcontractors is typical: she has 

 twenty or so families making 

 wreathes for her, working both in their homes and in 

 a shed at het house. She supplies materials and deliv- 

 ers the finished wreathes to Kirk. 



A skilled worker can make 75 plain twelve-inch 

 wreathes a day. Most wreathes are balsam; a few are 

 made of a mix of greens (white pine and cedar are 

 added); some are decorated to order, usually with cone 

 clusters or artificial berries. 



Suppliers of boughs ("tippers") are also self-em- 

 ployed and "tipping" is an important source of sea- 

 sonal income. During the summer, they scout paper 

 company lands, looking for areas with lots of new 

 growth. When they find a spot that seems promising, 

 they buy the right from the paper company to "tip" 

 the tract — a tract can be up to ten acres. 



The branch tips — usually around a foot long — are 

 snapped by hand. The traditional way to handle them 

 is to first cut a six-foot limb and remove all the 

 branches but one stub near the bottom. This holds 

 the first branch on the pole. Other branches go tightly 

 on top of this until the pole become as six-foot cylin- 

 der of greens. A piece of rope holds it together. The 

 cylinder can be hoisted onto your shoulder and carried 

 back to your truck. 



But it has to be cold: several hard frosts are needed 

 for the needles to "set." Cut before frost, needles 

 would shed. Timing, controlled by weather, is crucial. 



DECEMBER 1998 . JANUARY 1999 



