Bob Stewart (1952-2011) and his wife Brigitta
photo by Georg Uebelhart
I was saddened to learn of Bob Stewart’s passing on December 16th, 2011. Bob had been on my mind all fall as I had called the nursery to inquire about a certain Epimedium that I had purchased earlier that spring. I’m pretty sure it was Brigitta, his surviving wife, who answered the phone. When I asked my question, there was a slight pause followed by a thoughtful answer. I could sense that the conversation could have gone on for several more minutes, but then I heard the voice politely say, “I’m afraid I can’t talk too long today, I’m here with the doctor.” With that, the conversation came to an end. Rattled, I found my partner immediately to tell him how the conversation transpired. I knew Bob had been battling cancer, and learning of the doctor’s housecall left me unsettled.
Funny thing is, I barely knew Bob. Only met him once. Truth be told, I didn’t even know I was talking to Bob until after our conversation. As our group was leaving, some friends inquired about our purchases and we told them about the Epimedium. We described the person that helped us and their eyebrows raised as they exclaimed, “That was the owner!”
We had been warned before we were allowed to exit the bus by our tour guide. “Do not move any plants or containers. If you have a question, find someone and bring him or her to the plant, not vice versa. And, do not remove ANY plant tags whatsoever!” It was not lost on me. This place was incredible and it was very apparent that many of these plants were rare. Perennials, woodland wildflowers, unusual ferns, rare alpines, dwarf conifers and unusual trees and shrubs. As we walked through the never-ending plant houses, I was struck by the enormity of this operation. Cool stuff everywhere. Tiny, large, and everything in between. It was otherworldly and that illustration was compounded by its off-beaten-path location and the day’s wicked hot humidity. It was jungle-like, and somehow felt like a scene from Jurassic Park.
Above: Garden images from Arrowhead Alpines website
When I visit nursery operations, I tend to lurk in the background. I’m torn between racing to see the inventory, or, the inner workings of the nursery itself– behind-the-scenes if you will. I tore away from the group (my natural tendency), inching towards off-limits proximity. Accompanied by my partner, this is where I encountered Bob. As he approached, I asked him about the Epimediums among us. I think he delighted in the fact that I had singled out a plant that was, by novice standards, pretty unassuming. We made a selection and without asking, he offered to provide us with flats from the back. That simple gesture left such an impression on me. The flats were out of site of the public shopping area, and although unspoken, he knew what we were trying to accomplish. Flats would be better than pots. Off he went, disappearing into one of the many hoop houses. As he left us, he grumbled, “go to the front and someone will meet you there with the flats.” We did as instructed. As we found our way to the checkout building, we passed many roped-off doorways posted with signs that read Closed and Do Not Enter. Each opening a view into what seemed like a mad-scientist’s laboratory. I couldn’t help but snap a couple of photos. Respectfully, I adhered to the sign’s demands and shot from the doorways.
Prior to boarding the buses, I grabbed a plant list (2008), a habit I’ve formed in recent years. Catalogs are the thesis’ of plantsmen and must be preserved for future reference. The catalog, which is printed on newsprint, contains no photos except for the front and back cover. It is 104 pages of small type. A typical page could list up to 50 different plant names, and descriptions with prices. It’s like a dictionary– page after page of bold face names followed by weighty text. Understandably, there will be no more print catalog published by Arrowhead Alpine. The catalog, which has been described as “epic” was the undertaking of Bob Stewart. I cherish the copy I have, and as I study it more intently, I notice that the images on the covers are of blossoms– Epimedium blossoms.
Do you believe in fate? How is it that our lives would one day cross paths and we would share a bit of dialog about a plant– one of my all time favorite plants? And what does one make of the fact that Bob would assist me in the selection of my very first Epimedium? Bob Stewart, with a zoology degree from Michigan State and a minor in chemistry, became fascinated and passionate about plants while working in a tissue culture lab. He began Arrowhead Alpines near Fowlerville, MI with his wife Brigitta in 1991. Arrowhead was named for the abundance of arrowheads found among the 80-acre property. From the 30+ buildings and hoop houses dedicated to plants, propagation, and research, fine specimens shipped all over the country. Bob surely had more plant knowledge in his little finger than I’ll ever hope to have in my brain. As fate would have it, my own garden grows a bit of his life’s work and passion. I have thought of him often since our chance meeting. Epimedium x perralchicum ‘Frohnleiten’ has emerged from its winter rest. And with it, the memories of Bob Stewart and my visit to Arrowhead Alpines in 2011. Here’s to Bob, passion, and the pursuit.
Heart-shaped leaves on Epimedium x perralchicum ‘Frohnleiten’
I wish continued success to Brigitta as she goes forward with the beloved on-site and mail-order nursery that many have come to know.
