To the editor:

Ben Calvin has passed away. He was my friend and teacher.

If you live on Whidbey Island, you are likely within a stone’s toss of one of his nursery-grown trees or rhododendrons. For over 25 years, he sold his raised-from-seedlings trees at Calvin’s Conifers, and his Christmas trees were in almost every home during December.

Standing proudly behind his plants, he frequently refused to sell a tree if (A) it was the wrong time of year to dig (B) he didn’t reckon you knew enough to ensure it’s survival, or (C) you sported long hair. He was passionate about his trees and wouldn’t release them to just anyone.

As his eyesight failed, he resorted to sensory methods of tree identification. We walked through the rows of trees with him often, and he would tug a needle from an evergreen and chew on it. “That is a balsam fir — here try it, it’s orangey tasting, isn’t it?”

We’d wander out in the tree fields and he would educate us with dissertations about his various favorites, and of course the Latin name for each tree. During Christmas tree-shearing season, he would dress up in his costume of halved plastic gallon milk jugs roped together and strapped to his right flank. Then he’d set off with a three-foot machete and carefully trim each tree to a perfect shape. His work ethic was old-school. He never seemed to tire.

It was a real honor to be chosen to take over the daily running of the tree farm when he decided to retire. Ben and his wife Phyllis continued to raise and sell rhododendrons from their Sills Road property.

Ben was a teacher. He taught me so much about plants that I can’t even imagine the knowledge gained at his kitchen table coming to me through any books or classes. Hundreds of hours were spent together planting, digging, irrigating, fixing the tractor or the pump, tasting and talking. These times will never be replicated or forgotten, and I appreciate every moment I spent in Ben’s company.

Curmudgeonly, maybe, brilliant certainly. Unforgettable, definitely.

Todd Graves

Freeland