LITTLE FLOWER GIRL
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
When I arrived in Los Angeles in 1860, a sign said population 4,385. If I had some black paint, it would have been the smallest of strokes to change the five to a six as I knew this was my new home.
The note in my hand read “The Angels Nursery, Spring Street.” Within an hour I unlatched the gate and walked inside. After correctly naming the first ten plants with both their common and scientific titles, I was hired. It was an immediate second blessing that affordable lodging was available across the street. While this is my brief background, the real story starts with an early Saturday morning as I walked out of the potting shed with a large burlap sack of fertilizer over my shoulder.
Down the path stood a small girl in a white summer dress. I was immediately struck by the very delicate way she held the sprig of a purplish red flower while leaning forward inhaling the fragrance. I smiled at the mother as I knelt before the little girl and said “Bougainvillea.” She looked up with a smile, and I was suddenly taken aback by the glaze in her eyes, she was blind. “Smell” she said, and I took a deep breath through my nose and replied “Honey.” “Honey” she repeated as she turned and lifted the flower toward her mother.
“My name is Jorge” I said, “What is your name?” A serious look came across her face, she paused, and then spoke with a determined pronunciation “Elizabeth, I am three years old.” Dropping the flower, she reached out, found my arm, slid her hand down to take my hand, and said “More.” With a nod from her mother, I stood and started to walk. She held back momentarily reaching toward her mother and taking a small white cane.
As we moved down the path, Elizabeth would slowly rotate her head around as if she was observing this new world through her ears and nose. Pausing, she looked toward her left and in an excited laugh said “Hummingbird!” Only after her observation did I now hear the wing-trill of the tiny bird. We moved over to the Lonicera. I placed her hand on a thin stalk and guided it back until the tubular flowers tickled her nose. “We call it Honeysuckle” I said. I will always remember that moment because I felt an inner voice saying this lovely young girl is a fellow botanist, feed her mind, and nourish her soul.
As she inhaled the fragrance, I spoke of the edible sweet nectar the hummingbird draws from the flower. The following week I often looked around the nursery hoping to spot my young friend. After two weeks I accepted the reality that she must live somewhere else and that our encounter was just a special memory of a magical moment. No sooner had I given up on seeing Elizabeth again, than there she was kneeling before the honeysuckle, softly singing a sweet melody. As I approached and before I could speak, she quickly turned her head to me and exclaimed “Hummingbird eat!”
Her mother confirmed they did live in town and that Elizabeth had been asking every day to go see the flower man. Her husband had died in a fall from a horse and she cared for her only child by taking in laundry from the nearby ranches. We spoke of a planned weekly meeting and I felt I could change my free Sunday to Saturday. That evening after work, I went to the general store and found a small leather bound book with blank pages for my first diary. With a candle burning at my bedside table, I made my first entry.
May 20, 1860
This diary will record certain events in the life of Jorge Osuna and Elizabeth Morales as they venture forward in the scientific study of plants and their mutual love for flowers.
Mrs. Morales stood at the gate of The Angels Nursery at 9:00 a.m. holding Elizabeth’s hand. I promised our return at noon sharp, and with a brief goodbye, my young protege started pulling me toward the smells of her new world. We first knelt before a small mulberry bush, and I described that Morales is the topographical name for someone who lived by a mulberry bush. At this young age, I had no expectation of her level of understanding, but a wonderful smile appeared as she fondled a clump of berries. Within minutes we both had faces smeared with dark red juice as she repeated mulberry and Morales.
During my work week of Sunday through Friday, I would consider what Elizabeth and I might explore within the nursery that would build upon her growing awareness of the plant kingdom. As an example, we are now planting seedlings of multiple varieties in small containers and then repotting as they grow. We discuss fragrances and plant texture. With blindness, learning through smell and touch is paramount. For a leaf, is it rough, smooth, soft, or prickly? A large hosta leaf compared to the fine texture of a fern is an example of strongly contrasting textures. We would associate colors and tastes with the flowers and fruits.
The rose section is a favorite for Elizabeth. The Damask and Maiden’s Blush have been on our planet for centuries, and their smell is quite distinct. As both flowers are pink, we would discuss a visualization of what pink would look like. Tasting a strawberry while inhaling the fragrance of a Damask would bring great joy to my young friend. Seldom would I need to repeat a name or connect a color as her mind was a sponge for such information.
August 18, 1860
Mary McCarty has arrived in Los Angeles and life for Elizabeth will never be the same! Mary retired from the Perkins School for the Blind in Boston and will give Elizabeth lessons in braille without charge. I say a prayer for this French educator, Louis Braille, and his gift to those stricken with loss of sight.
The nursery has a gazebo at a far corner of the property, in the midst of a flower garden with a small pond stocked with several species of colorful fish. A group of large boulders conceals a pipe that draws water up and over the rocks for a delightful waterfall. Often frogs or turtles can be spotted in the water or resting by the edge. As you can imagine, this is a special place for Elizabeth to visit, and on March 30th we gathered to celebrate her 4th birthday. Mrs. Morales prepared a special chocolate cake, and Mary McCarty created a braille birthday card that Elizabeth read out loud to everyone’s amazement. Mary announced the next goal that Elizabeth was ready to tackle, writing! I exclaimed that our person of honor was surely a prodigy. Our honoree beamed and laughed as we spoke of her extraordinary talent and ability.
Mary described decapoint, a dot writing system that Louis Braille created in 1839, which enabled the blind students to write to relatives and friends who could not read braille. From that day forward, Mary took an active role in assisting Elizabeth in the creation of journals that recorded her early botanical insights and discoveries.
January 10, 1862
Today was memorable as we worked with the lilies. The focal point was the Lemon lily also called Parry’s lily. I say memorable because next week the famed botanist Charles Christopher Parry will join us at the gazebo.
Charles Christopher Parry was thirty-eight years old when he met Elizabeth, and she would say her age as “almost five.” I met Charles in Mexico during his years of study “south of the border.” Even though I was older in age, I was thrilled to be called his young assistant, and I give him full credit for my love of botany. He was exceptionally unselfish and kind. More than eighty new species of flowering plants have been named from his extensive collection since his arrival from England in 1832. Elizabeth captured his heart with her knowledge and joy of the plant kingdom.
While the year 1862 started off with our special guest visitor, it quickly devolved into challenging weather patterns that left us struggling at the nursery. Initially, heavy rains flooded the town and we scurried to keep the pots above water level to stave off root rot. Just as we started drying out, we soon entered into the first of several great droughts that persisted over the next two years. As difficult as it was for our plants, Los Angeles lost 70% of its livestock, resulting in the end of the old ranching industry.
Elizabeth was now seven and coming to the nursery each afternoon during my work days. Sunday was our day off and I joined the Morales family in attending Our Lady Queen of the Angels Church. During this year 1864, an epidemic of smallpox struck our community and especially decimated our Indian population. All of us at the church pitched in to help in any way possible. The Angels Nursery was facing closure during this difficult time and I accepted a steep cut in my pay to help keep the expenses down for the owner. Mrs. Morales suggested I rent a room in her home as an adjustment to my lower income, and I gladly accepted.
There were rules to follow as I moved into my room at the Morales home. The first rule related to names, Mrs. Morales was no longer expected, and Esther was the replacement of choice. I graciously accepted this rule as long as Jorge replaced Mr. Osuna. Of course, Elizabeth was always Elizabeth so that was easy to remember. The second rule was that Esther prepared the meals, Elizabeth set and cleared the table, and I washed the dishes. The third rule was that Sunday church would not be missed unless you were sick. This was our favorite rule as worshiping together was binding to our mind and spirit.
While unpacking my botanical books, the little diary fell on the floor. I chuckled to see only three brief entries in the past four years. My first thought was to use the diary for a different purpose as my mind held all the special memories with Elizabeth. Upon further reflection I decided that some day she might enjoy my brief recordings, even if they needed to be transcribed into braille.
June18,1865
Today we met Caroline, a student from the new college, St. Vincent’s. I have a hunch that Elizabeth has found a big sister. How blessed we are each day.
On a beautiful summer day, Caroline entered the nursery with an armload of stunning orange gladiolus. She was an aspiring botanist attending St. Vincent’s. Her flower club had planted the bulbs several months earlier, and she was eager to be a volunteer at our nursery to gain additional experience. As she handed a beautiful long stock to Elizabeth, my young friend clung to both the flower and the trembling hand. Looking up to the kind voice, her facial expression was one of concern. Caroline explained that she had Parkinson’s disease. Without hesitation, Elizabeth said that she could hold tight the hand and Caroline could be their eyes.
James Parkinson was a London physician who wrote a detailed medical paper in 1817 titled “An Essay on the Shaking Palsy.” Caroline said doctors do not understand the cause but understand that the central nervous system is affected and that unfortunately you start to experience slowness of movement. Elizabeth again spoke and said that she also moved slowly. The young woman kneeled down and kissed the forehead of this precious and sensitive young girl. I had to look away momentarily to calm my heart and hold back tears in seeing such affection for one so deserving.
Caroline’s arrival was perfectly timed as Elizabeth and I were planning to hybridize a new color of violet. Ever since our meeting Mr. Parry and touching the Parry’s lily, Elizabeth would often speak of a flower with her name. The three of us spent weeks considering our options for just the right flower color, size, and shape. We also added criteria for our desired leaf color. Years back, Elizabeth was fascinated with the color orange as we would lay on the ground eating the navel orange and taking in the heat of an intense summer sun.
Our decision was finalized, we were going to cross a Yellow Wood Violet with a Red Sun Rising. The first step was to take the little yellow pollen sac from the center of one, break up the pollen, and touch the stigma of the other. That was the easy part, as the hard part was months of waiting for the seed pod to ripen.
March 30, 1866
Elizabeth’s 9th birthday present arrived just in time for our celebration. The African Violet Society of America, based in Knoxville Tennessee, sent the certificate announcing the latest registered violet, the Golden Elizabeth! They described this new violet as a brilliant orange worthy of every garden and every violet bouquet!
In 1868, the California Tree Culture Act was passed. This proclamation encouraged people to plant more trees, particularly along the roads. Ellwood Cooper visited our nursery to see how we could support the cause. Mr. Cooper was an educator, entrepreneur, and a passionate supporter of tree plantings. He and Elizabeth were a perfect match, as both held the Blue Gum Eucalyptus of Australia as their favorite specimen. As you might imagine, the fragrance was always intoxicating to Elizabeth. Over the years, this mighty tree reaching heights of two hundred feet changed the landscape of California. Mr Cooper established a famous ranch in Santa Barbara, and on several occasions we were his invited guests. A year later Phineas Banning completed the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad. For many in Los Angeles, this would provide the first opportunity to see the mighty Pacific Ocean.
March 30, 1869
Our flower girl was not so little any longer at age twelve. Elizabeth chose a visit to the ocean as her birthday present. Hearing the sounds of the pounding surf, tasting the salty water, and laying in the wet sand was a wonderful new and never to be forgotten experience.
Each new year at The Angels Nursery brought exciting new discoveries for aspiring botanists like Elizabeth, Caroline, and others from St. Vincent’s College. Our owner funded a grant at the school to establish the Department of Botany, and set aside one acre of nursery property for the students and their programs.
March 30, 1872
Today marked a significant milestone for Elizabeth as we celebrated her Quinceanera. This same date is also significant for the marriage of Jorge Osuna to Esther Morales, and the adoption of a beautiful young woman now named Elizabeth Osuna.
The Incas, the Mayas, the Toltecs, and the Aztecs all had the custom of preparing their members once they’ve reached a specific age. For Elizabeth, celebrating her 15th birthday in conjunction with the planned marriage was a dream come true. We all cried as each took a turn saying I love you father, I love you daughter, I love you wife, I love you husband. One might say that the ground shook with such happiness, but that actually happened four days earlier.
On March 26, 1872 in Owens Valley, an earthquake with a magnitude of 7.4 rocked the state of California from San Francisco to San Diego. Lives were lost, property was destroyed, but all would agree, it could have been worse. In Los Angeles, some wondered if earthquakes would limit the population growth of our area, but most agreed with the Osuna family that the ideal Southern California climate would continue to draw new residents.
March 30, 1875
Whoever reads this brief diary will quickly note that I use Elizabeth’s birthday to make an entry. I will start with the highlight of our daughter entering St. Vincent’s College later this year. Next month the famous botanist Luther Burbank will visit our nursery as he travels from Massachusetts to his new home in Santa Rosa.
Luther Burbank was 26 years old when he sold the rights to the Russet Burbank potato for $150. A natural genetic variant of the Burbank potato, with russet-colored skin, it has become the potato of choice for the dinner table. He had read of the Golden Elizabeth Violet and wanted to visit our nursery during his travel west. After our visit, Elizabeth expressed her belief that Burbank would continue to astonish the world as a botanist, horticulturist and pioneer in agricultural science. They agreed to exchange letters and he invited her to come to his new ranch and nursery after her college graduation. 1875 also marked a significant event for our expanding community. To the east of Los Angeles, Elias Jackson “Lucky” Baldwin had just purchased Rancho Santa Anita. During a visit to our nursery, he described the gardens he wanted to create within his magnificent property and spoke of a future arboretum that could rival the U.S. Botanic Garden that was established in Washington D.C. twenty-five years earlier.
March 30, 1880
I just found this dusty little book and realize that five years have passed since Elizabeth started college. She graduated with honors, and now leads classes in botany at both St. Vincent’s and at our expanding nursery and biology center. The population of Los Angeles is now 11,183 and it seems more good folks arrive every day. My health has been challenged lately and this may be my last entry. Twenty years ago I walked into this nursery, knelt down to meet a beautiful little girl who would become my daughter, and would happily go on to marry her mother. My amazing daughter and I have engaged leading botanists of the world in memorable conversations, and have gratefully served our community. If today I should take my last breath, I shall count my life as blessed beyond measure.
March 30,1881
Today is my 24th birthday. My father, Jorge Osuna, peacefully passed away last month. In its inaugural edition, The Los Angeles Times wrote an obituary on his life and contribution to the city of Los Angeles. My mother and I were grateful for this recognition, and yet we wished more could have been said about what we hold so dear to our hearts. I dedicate my future life’s work in botany to my father, my friend, and my teacher, Jorge Osuna, his loving daughter Elizabeth.
RICHARD SWAIN
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
When I arrived in Los Angeles in 1860, a sign said population 4,385. If I had some black paint, it would have been the smallest of strokes to change the five to a six as I knew this was my new home.
The note in my hand read “The Angels Nursery, Spring Street.” Within an hour I unlatched the gate and walked inside. After correctly naming the first ten plants with both their common and scientific titles, I was hired. It was an immediate second blessing that affordable lodging was available across the street. While this is my brief background, the real story starts with an early Saturday morning as I walked out of the potting shed with a large burlap sack of fertilizer over my shoulder.
Down the path stood a small girl in a white summer dress. I was immediately struck by the very delicate way she held the sprig of a purplish red flower while leaning forward inhaling the fragrance. I smiled at the mother as I knelt before the little girl and said “Bougainvillea.” She looked up with a smile, and I was suddenly taken aback by the glaze in her eyes, she was blind. “Smell” she said, and I took a deep breath through my nose and replied “Honey.” “Honey” she repeated as she turned and lifted the flower toward her mother.
“My name is Jorge” I said, “What is your name?” A serious look came across her face, she paused, and then spoke with a determined pronunciation “Elizabeth, I am three years old.” Dropping the flower, she reached out, found my arm, slid her hand down to take my hand, and said “More.” With a nod from her mother, I stood and started to walk. She held back momentarily reaching toward her mother and taking a small white cane.
As we moved down the path, Elizabeth would slowly rotate her head around as if she was observing this new world through her ears and nose. Pausing, she looked toward her left and in an excited laugh said “Hummingbird!” Only after her observation did I now hear the wing-trill of the tiny bird. We moved over to the Lonicera. I placed her hand on a thin stalk and guided it back until the tubular flowers tickled her nose. “We call it Honeysuckle” I said. I will always remember that moment because I felt an inner voice saying this lovely young girl is a fellow botanist, feed her mind, and nourish her soul.
As she inhaled the fragrance, I spoke of the edible sweet nectar the hummingbird draws from the flower. The following week I often looked around the nursery hoping to spot my young friend. After two weeks I accepted the reality that she must live somewhere else and that our encounter was just a special memory of a magical moment. No sooner had I given up on seeing Elizabeth again, than there she was kneeling before the honeysuckle, softly singing a sweet melody. As I approached and before I could speak, she quickly turned her head to me and exclaimed “Hummingbird eat!”
Her mother confirmed they did live in town and that Elizabeth had been asking every day to go see the flower man. Her husband had died in a fall from a horse and she cared for her only child by taking in laundry from the nearby ranches. We spoke of a planned weekly meeting and I felt I could change my free Sunday to Saturday. That evening after work, I went to the general store and found a small leather bound book with blank pages for my first diary. With a candle burning at my bedside table, I made my first entry.
May 20, 1860
This diary will record certain events in the life of Jorge Osuna and Elizabeth Morales as they venture forward in the scientific study of plants and their mutual love for flowers.
Mrs. Morales stood at the gate of The Angels Nursery at 9:00 a.m. holding Elizabeth’s hand. I promised our return at noon sharp, and with a brief goodbye, my young protege started pulling me toward the smells of her new world. We first knelt before a small mulberry bush, and I described that Morales is the topographical name for someone who lived by a mulberry bush. At this young age, I had no expectation of her level of understanding, but a wonderful smile appeared as she fondled a clump of berries. Within minutes we both had faces smeared with dark red juice as she repeated mulberry and Morales.
During my work week of Sunday through Friday, I would consider what Elizabeth and I might explore within the nursery that would build upon her growing awareness of the plant kingdom. As an example, we are now planting seedlings of multiple varieties in small containers and then repotting as they grow. We discuss fragrances and plant texture. With blindness, learning through smell and touch is paramount. For a leaf, is it rough, smooth, soft, or prickly? A large hosta leaf compared to the fine texture of a fern is an example of strongly contrasting textures. We would associate colors and tastes with the flowers and fruits.
The rose section is a favorite for Elizabeth. The Damask and Maiden’s Blush have been on our planet for centuries, and their smell is quite distinct. As both flowers are pink, we would discuss a visualization of what pink would look like. Tasting a strawberry while inhaling the fragrance of a Damask would bring great joy to my young friend. Seldom would I need to repeat a name or connect a color as her mind was a sponge for such information.
August 18, 1860
Mary McCarty has arrived in Los Angeles and life for Elizabeth will never be the same! Mary retired from the Perkins School for the Blind in Boston and will give Elizabeth lessons in braille without charge. I say a prayer for this French educator, Louis Braille, and his gift to those stricken with loss of sight.
The nursery has a gazebo at a far corner of the property, in the midst of a flower garden with a small pond stocked with several species of colorful fish. A group of large boulders conceals a pipe that draws water up and over the rocks for a delightful waterfall. Often frogs or turtles can be spotted in the water or resting by the edge. As you can imagine, this is a special place for Elizabeth to visit, and on March 30th we gathered to celebrate her 4th birthday. Mrs. Morales prepared a special chocolate cake, and Mary McCarty created a braille birthday card that Elizabeth read out loud to everyone’s amazement. Mary announced the next goal that Elizabeth was ready to tackle, writing! I exclaimed that our person of honor was surely a prodigy. Our honoree beamed and laughed as we spoke of her extraordinary talent and ability.
Mary described decapoint, a dot writing system that Louis Braille created in 1839, which enabled the blind students to write to relatives and friends who could not read braille. From that day forward, Mary took an active role in assisting Elizabeth in the creation of journals that recorded her early botanical insights and discoveries.
January 10, 1862
Today was memorable as we worked with the lilies. The focal point was the Lemon lily also called Parry’s lily. I say memorable because next week the famed botanist Charles Christopher Parry will join us at the gazebo.
Charles Christopher Parry was thirty-eight years old when he met Elizabeth, and she would say her age as “almost five.” I met Charles in Mexico during his years of study “south of the border.” Even though I was older in age, I was thrilled to be called his young assistant, and I give him full credit for my love of botany. He was exceptionally unselfish and kind. More than eighty new species of flowering plants have been named from his extensive collection since his arrival from England in 1832. Elizabeth captured his heart with her knowledge and joy of the plant kingdom.
While the year 1862 started off with our special guest visitor, it quickly devolved into challenging weather patterns that left us struggling at the nursery. Initially, heavy rains flooded the town and we scurried to keep the pots above water level to stave off root rot. Just as we started drying out, we soon entered into the first of several great droughts that persisted over the next two years. As difficult as it was for our plants, Los Angeles lost 70% of its livestock, resulting in the end of the old ranching industry.
Elizabeth was now seven and coming to the nursery each afternoon during my work days. Sunday was our day off and I joined the Morales family in attending Our Lady Queen of the Angels Church. During this year 1864, an epidemic of smallpox struck our community and especially decimated our Indian population. All of us at the church pitched in to help in any way possible. The Angels Nursery was facing closure during this difficult time and I accepted a steep cut in my pay to help keep the expenses down for the owner. Mrs. Morales suggested I rent a room in her home as an adjustment to my lower income, and I gladly accepted.
There were rules to follow as I moved into my room at the Morales home. The first rule related to names, Mrs. Morales was no longer expected, and Esther was the replacement of choice. I graciously accepted this rule as long as Jorge replaced Mr. Osuna. Of course, Elizabeth was always Elizabeth so that was easy to remember. The second rule was that Esther prepared the meals, Elizabeth set and cleared the table, and I washed the dishes. The third rule was that Sunday church would not be missed unless you were sick. This was our favorite rule as worshiping together was binding to our mind and spirit.
While unpacking my botanical books, the little diary fell on the floor. I chuckled to see only three brief entries in the past four years. My first thought was to use the diary for a different purpose as my mind held all the special memories with Elizabeth. Upon further reflection I decided that some day she might enjoy my brief recordings, even if they needed to be transcribed into braille.
June18,1865
Today we met Caroline, a student from the new college, St. Vincent’s. I have a hunch that Elizabeth has found a big sister. How blessed we are each day.
On a beautiful summer day, Caroline entered the nursery with an armload of stunning orange gladiolus. She was an aspiring botanist attending St. Vincent’s. Her flower club had planted the bulbs several months earlier, and she was eager to be a volunteer at our nursery to gain additional experience. As she handed a beautiful long stock to Elizabeth, my young friend clung to both the flower and the trembling hand. Looking up to the kind voice, her facial expression was one of concern. Caroline explained that she had Parkinson’s disease. Without hesitation, Elizabeth said that she could hold tight the hand and Caroline could be their eyes.
James Parkinson was a London physician who wrote a detailed medical paper in 1817 titled “An Essay on the Shaking Palsy.” Caroline said doctors do not understand the cause but understand that the central nervous system is affected and that unfortunately you start to experience slowness of movement. Elizabeth again spoke and said that she also moved slowly. The young woman kneeled down and kissed the forehead of this precious and sensitive young girl. I had to look away momentarily to calm my heart and hold back tears in seeing such affection for one so deserving.
Caroline’s arrival was perfectly timed as Elizabeth and I were planning to hybridize a new color of violet. Ever since our meeting Mr. Parry and touching the Parry’s lily, Elizabeth would often speak of a flower with her name. The three of us spent weeks considering our options for just the right flower color, size, and shape. We also added criteria for our desired leaf color. Years back, Elizabeth was fascinated with the color orange as we would lay on the ground eating the navel orange and taking in the heat of an intense summer sun.
Our decision was finalized, we were going to cross a Yellow Wood Violet with a Red Sun Rising. The first step was to take the little yellow pollen sac from the center of one, break up the pollen, and touch the stigma of the other. That was the easy part, as the hard part was months of waiting for the seed pod to ripen.
March 30, 1866
Elizabeth’s 9th birthday present arrived just in time for our celebration. The African Violet Society of America, based in Knoxville Tennessee, sent the certificate announcing the latest registered violet, the Golden Elizabeth! They described this new violet as a brilliant orange worthy of every garden and every violet bouquet!
In 1868, the California Tree Culture Act was passed. This proclamation encouraged people to plant more trees, particularly along the roads. Ellwood Cooper visited our nursery to see how we could support the cause. Mr. Cooper was an educator, entrepreneur, and a passionate supporter of tree plantings. He and Elizabeth were a perfect match, as both held the Blue Gum Eucalyptus of Australia as their favorite specimen. As you might imagine, the fragrance was always intoxicating to Elizabeth. Over the years, this mighty tree reaching heights of two hundred feet changed the landscape of California. Mr Cooper established a famous ranch in Santa Barbara, and on several occasions we were his invited guests. A year later Phineas Banning completed the Los Angeles & San Pedro Railroad. For many in Los Angeles, this would provide the first opportunity to see the mighty Pacific Ocean.
March 30, 1869
Our flower girl was not so little any longer at age twelve. Elizabeth chose a visit to the ocean as her birthday present. Hearing the sounds of the pounding surf, tasting the salty water, and laying in the wet sand was a wonderful new and never to be forgotten experience.
Each new year at The Angels Nursery brought exciting new discoveries for aspiring botanists like Elizabeth, Caroline, and others from St. Vincent’s College. Our owner funded a grant at the school to establish the Department of Botany, and set aside one acre of nursery property for the students and their programs.
March 30, 1872
Today marked a significant milestone for Elizabeth as we celebrated her Quinceanera. This same date is also significant for the marriage of Jorge Osuna to Esther Morales, and the adoption of a beautiful young woman now named Elizabeth Osuna.
The Incas, the Mayas, the Toltecs, and the Aztecs all had the custom of preparing their members once they’ve reached a specific age. For Elizabeth, celebrating her 15th birthday in conjunction with the planned marriage was a dream come true. We all cried as each took a turn saying I love you father, I love you daughter, I love you wife, I love you husband. One might say that the ground shook with such happiness, but that actually happened four days earlier.
On March 26, 1872 in Owens Valley, an earthquake with a magnitude of 7.4 rocked the state of California from San Francisco to San Diego. Lives were lost, property was destroyed, but all would agree, it could have been worse. In Los Angeles, some wondered if earthquakes would limit the population growth of our area, but most agreed with the Osuna family that the ideal Southern California climate would continue to draw new residents.
March 30, 1875
Whoever reads this brief diary will quickly note that I use Elizabeth’s birthday to make an entry. I will start with the highlight of our daughter entering St. Vincent’s College later this year. Next month the famous botanist Luther Burbank will visit our nursery as he travels from Massachusetts to his new home in Santa Rosa.
Luther Burbank was 26 years old when he sold the rights to the Russet Burbank potato for $150. A natural genetic variant of the Burbank potato, with russet-colored skin, it has become the potato of choice for the dinner table. He had read of the Golden Elizabeth Violet and wanted to visit our nursery during his travel west. After our visit, Elizabeth expressed her belief that Burbank would continue to astonish the world as a botanist, horticulturist and pioneer in agricultural science. They agreed to exchange letters and he invited her to come to his new ranch and nursery after her college graduation. 1875 also marked a significant event for our expanding community. To the east of Los Angeles, Elias Jackson “Lucky” Baldwin had just purchased Rancho Santa Anita. During a visit to our nursery, he described the gardens he wanted to create within his magnificent property and spoke of a future arboretum that could rival the U.S. Botanic Garden that was established in Washington D.C. twenty-five years earlier.
March 30, 1880
I just found this dusty little book and realize that five years have passed since Elizabeth started college. She graduated with honors, and now leads classes in botany at both St. Vincent’s and at our expanding nursery and biology center. The population of Los Angeles is now 11,183 and it seems more good folks arrive every day. My health has been challenged lately and this may be my last entry. Twenty years ago I walked into this nursery, knelt down to meet a beautiful little girl who would become my daughter, and would happily go on to marry her mother. My amazing daughter and I have engaged leading botanists of the world in memorable conversations, and have gratefully served our community. If today I should take my last breath, I shall count my life as blessed beyond measure.
March 30,1881
Today is my 24th birthday. My father, Jorge Osuna, peacefully passed away last month. In its inaugural edition, The Los Angeles Times wrote an obituary on his life and contribution to the city of Los Angeles. My mother and I were grateful for this recognition, and yet we wished more could have been said about what we hold so dear to our hearts. I dedicate my future life’s work in botany to my father, my friend, and my teacher, Jorge Osuna, his loving daughter Elizabeth.
RICHARD SWAIN