HOLMES GLAD GARDENS 
Plymouth, Michigan 
Season of 47 - 48 
Dear Glad Fan: waaay 2 
Just wondering if you’d be interested in learning how 
the Holmes Glad Gardens came into existence. Speak- 
ing for myself I’m always interested in learning how 
organizations came into being, what the folks behind 
them are like, what. their plans for the future are, ete. 
As is often the case with commercial Glad growers, 
they begin as novices who grow Glads as a hobby then 
go through the various stages up to commercialism. We 
‘did likewise. In the beginning there was my Dad and 
Mother, my wife and myself. We grew a duke’s mix- 
~ ture of bulbs my Dad received as a gift from a friend, 
plus several sacks of bulbs purchased by us at a country 
auction sale. The only word I can think of to describe 
that first year is ‘“‘mess’” because that’s what it was. The 
fancy mixture from the country auction which the lady 
who sold them described as beautiful were the sorriest 
looking things imaginable. All grew lke corkscrews. 
The gift package from Dad’s friend was just about as 
bad. That was the first year. The next year, 1938, 
showed a little improvement. due, I realize now, to my 
Dad’s insistence upon named varieties from reputable 
catalogers. The soundness of my Dad’s opinion is now 
very clear to me and I'd like to pass it on to you. You 
just can’t grow good Glads from diseased bulbs or bulbs 
of inferior varieties (which never should have been in- 
troduced to the Glad growing public in the first place). 
Things moved along at a normal pace up to the year 
of 1942. We added those new varieties, of course, each 
year, which we felt were a definite contribution to their 
color and size classes, making mistakes in our judgment 
same as anyone’s liable to do but at the same time 
picking up a few varieties, here and there, that have 
been a great source of joy to us and others who have 
seen them. Along about 1941 we began to sell both 
flowers and bulbs on a limited scale to what would be 
best described as a local clientele. But to get back to 
the year 42. On August 19, my Dad suffered a fatal 
heart attack and with Dad’s passing, if you’ll forgive 
me, I lost the best pal I ever had. Dad and I had much 
in common. 
Came the year 1943. Sure hope history doesn’t re- 
peat. itself. Had just enough gas and tires to get to the 
