Like every other year, this one would be different.
For starters, we had taken Grandfather to the Epcot Center at Disney World in Orlando. It wasn't the Grand Opening Weekend, but the all inclusive Disney brand takes about five years for the entire world, however big or small, to celebrate the opening of a new theme park addition. During our visit, I had fallen head over heels in love with the hydroponic tomato exhibit.
I was a child at the Epcot Center and I was completely enthralled by the Agricultural presentation. The irony. I hailed from an area of Florida that held bragging rights on the best soil in the American states and here I was drooling over the idea of soil abandonment.
Disney: If your child isn't throwing a tantrum, trying to stay there, and move in with The Mouse, they're convincing your Muck loving kid to grow plants in water!
So they were really doing it up. Big time. E.P.C.O.T., an acronym for Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, opened back in October of 1982, and was supposed to give us regular folk a bird's eye view of The Future.
The
Who remembers if it was anything like that? That was the Eighties. This is 2014. Could someone click the beautiful fluted pumpkin footage? Much like Sophia or Rose from The Golden Girls, the moral of this circuitous story is that I went on vacation with my three generations of Anderson males, and returned home enthusiastic about an idea for my Science fair project. Now that's a parent getting their money's worth on a vacation, if you ask me.
Monday morning, I made a beeline for my Science Teacher's desk. I let nothing distract him or me.
Inconsiderate? Hardly. It was not that deep really. His true Science students barely noticed I was there. For the others who were disinterested in what he was doing, Roll Call, they were glad for the distraction. He stopped to address my concerns or I would have had to create some sort of conniption. I passed a note that read, "I am in need of some help re: Science Fair, need guidance, advice, and direction. PLEASE! Thank you." He replied out loud, "Come back here during my planning period." I said, "Perfect. Thank you," and wandered back to whatever class I originated.
I am certain this behavior was labeled casually behind my back by the teachers in the Lounge. This would be later labeled by many a Professional in differing ways later.
Life is all about which label the can wears.
I met with my Science Teacher. He suggested that I write to Epcot at Disney. I wrote to Epcot at Disney and made a formal request for Instructions and Materials for the Science Project. Unlike Santa, they replied. Due to pesky liability concerns, they would not send me chemicals, but they did send me instructions and information on Hydroponics for my Science Project. They assured me that the chemicals could be easily acquired with the assistance of an adult.
Money. So the folks at Disney are writing a letter to a child in South Bay, Florida and no one bothered to check the demographics on that one. This was before the Internet so it would have taken a bit of leg work, even for the Mouse House. I would have to buy bottles of product but I would be nourishing maybe two to four plants tops. Not cost effective. I needed to find someone with existing bottles of product who was willing to give me a dash of this and a smidgen of that.
Hydroponics in a nutshell? Putting all the nutrients one would find in soil into the water so that soil becomes unnecessary. The spider plant was chosen because it roots easily, shows new roots clearly, and as a hearty houseplant, it would be easy to work with.
Nothing like a sweet smelling Vanilla Orchid to get all funky and temperamental with the variables.
I started by growing eight spider plants in plastic cups from cuttings from a one of daddy's long extended leg. Then I waited for then to root. I used the remaining siblings on the leg as a guide. Their roots were reaching for the dirt below the HMIC shelf where the Head Motherplant In Charge nested. In possession of an aquarium setup from a project that displayed lake pollution and its effect on our ecosystem, Styrofoam lily pads from the bottom of the cups, fishing line, and metal weights used in same said project, all I needed was to make a trip out to The Research Center.
I was headed to see Dr. Joseph Orsenigo. I called first, which is funny out here in Belle Glade because folks are either in or out. If they are in, you can come on out. If they are out, then you have to pick another day to come over. As residents, we all operate under a modified open door, Bob Dylan two-prong policy that everyone understands.
One: There might be a line, but there is no velvet rope.
Two: One must not be where one does not belong. There is plenty of work to be done.
Have you seen the line?
To support my legitimacy and presence at The Research Center, I carried my Disney paperwork.
He waved me in refused to read the documents. He urged me to tell him about it. I am one of those, so I did. Doc, as he was called by everyone everywhere, agreed that it made no sense to buy bottles for what he called negligible amounts for a school research project. He redirected me to local garden suppliers who would donate the splashes I needed at no cost from their own stash. After all, it was not like I was was a caretaker for Fairchild Botanic Tropical Gardens looking for freebies. I simply needed to dose a ten gallon aquarium. The amounts required were partial droplets from an eyedropper.
I brought jam bottles and got the chemicals without problems. I labeled the top and the bottle of each one. Soon, I had a bootleg replica of what I saw at Epcot. The den counter was only one aisle. I had no white outfit, no gloves, no hair net, but I did track the pH levels. Something was off.
The story of my life. Something was always off.
I tossed. I turned. I couldn't figure it out. I kept reviewing the notes. The variables were neck and neck. So they appeared, but the plants in the soil were looking so much healthier than the plants in the water. There were things at work within soil were not at work naturally within water. There was some unknown variable presenting itself within the water in such a fundamental way that must be corrected or the project was doomed.
I called. The Doctor was in. He waved me in and refused to read my notes. He urged me to tell me about it. I am one of those, so I did.
"You are very perceptive. There is something wrong. Excellent observation skills."
"Thank you, Dr. Orsenigo."
"You're very welcome. Send my best to your parents for me..."
"Doctor, my plants, how do I...?"
"You're a bright young woman with four plants floating in ten gallons of water. I know you will find the proper solution and save your plants before it is too late."
It hit me like a ton of bricks as I was on my way home. The roots were feeding from soil they were nestling in direct contact. Then I remembered there was rushing water at the Epcot facility. The aquarium was missing proper aeration. The water contained the requisite chemicals, but they were probably settled at different distribution levels in the water. What I needed was an air pump, airline tubing, and a ceramic air stone diffuser to make sure the roots were consistently getting fed a balanced meal.
Within a few weeks, with proper aeration, the Hydroponic plants caught up to their soil equivalent. Of course, all of these events (lack of proper aeration, its impact on leaf color, plant growth, changes in leaf texture) were recorded.
Maybe the project won a prize or two. I would like to think I called or wrote to properly express to the Epcot Center how appreciative I was for their assistance on the Hydroponics project. What forever stuck with me was that I got a free exercise in Critical Thinking from an esteemed Professor who made himself available to an inquisitive child in spite of own his own heavy work load. A welcomed break perhaps? It was much later that I learned that he was an Alum of Cornell University. A decade would pass before I learned of his own contribution to the world of Agriculture. By that point, his intellect had long been established in my head. Alas, whatever impression he had of me had been sealed. It was the same with his Wife, also an Alum of Cornell University. I had been strolling past her since I was a young whipper snapper, never knowing the impact they would later have on my life.
Their lives impressed upon me the concept of Pioneering: Go somewhere where no one has ever been or wants to go and make an impact.
That has been my life since I last saw them together. Every single position ever chosen has been a place where a person of my very specific skill set and background has not been employed and I have made an impact. I look forward to every challenge with baited breath remembering, if I think about it, "the answer will arrive before all is lost."
University of Florida Everglades Research & Education Center
3200 E Palm Beach Rd.
Belle Glade, FL 33430
(561) 993-1500
