Originally published February 2004 in Funke's gardening newsletter.
If you'd like sign up for it send an email to us with "sign up" in the subject line here
If you like history or just a good story I think you'll enjoy
this issue's article.
It's something I've been wanting to re-write for years and the
ice n' snow gave
me some inside time to get a start on it.
It's a history of how Funke's came to be and makes an attempt
to put a backdrop
to the dates and events :)
Part one covers the first 70 years after my Great grandpa got off the boat :)
Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it!
Without further adieu...........
They called themselves "gardeners"
In a time that may seem long ago in human terms but not even
a blink of Mother
Earth's eye a group of families who had once called Germany home
in the 19th
century came to settle in an area of the mill creek valley in
Cincinnati that
would later come to be called Wooden shoe hollow.
Families with names like Goetz, Wiese, Kettler, Hackemeyer,
Brunswick, Osterbrock,
Funke, Rahn, Howeller, Niehaus, Schumacher, Renegarbe, Friedhoff,
Greber, Kissel,
Koch, Mattfeld, Tieman, and countless others who made the earth
and the family
farm their new home in the new country. They provided for their
families and
their livelihood farming vegetables and they called themselves
"gardeners".
Though many of the names have long since disappeared from the
mailboxes along
Gray road and Wooden shoe hollow lane a hand full remain in the
21st century.
The one on mine says "Funke".
The sign out by the street says "Funke's" and we
continue the tradition of the
family farm and although the crops have changed since that time
so near and far
ago we still call ourselves "gardeners" and provide
for our families and our
livelihood farming ornamentals for those of all nationalities
who also love the
earth and share the mantle of "gardener".
This is the story of how that came to be .
In the waning days of the 19th century as the industrial revolution
was coming
into full swing and Darwin's "evolution of the species"
was instilling a newfound
arrogance amongst the German aristocracy Friedrich Funke chose
to leave the land
of his ancestors bound for the "new world". The reasons
for his doing so have
been lost to history and one can only speculate if he was motivated
by a sense
of the political changes taking place in his homeland, or if industry
was beginning
to sprawl out Bremen driving farmers elsewhere, if competition
from siblings
left little room for another son or if he was simply adventurous.
The fact that
remains is that he did leave his home bound for the unknown and
settled onto
a plot of ground along the mill creek off of Beekman street in
what is today
Cumminsville.
The land was owned by the railroad as a right of way along
the mill creek and
leased out to the immigrant farmers settling into Cincinnati in
the latter half
of the 19th century.
As is the case with bottom land along stream and riversides
thousands of years
of fertile sediment had accumulated there and made the land exceptionally
well
suited for vegetable farming. Proximity to the stockyards along
Spring grove
avenue added an additional convenience to the farming activity
there. Manure
would often be hauled from those stockyards daily by the gardeners
to their individual
plots of several acres each on which they lived and farmed. The
vegetables were
grown year round in "hot" beds which consisted of wooden
frames about 6' wide
and 12 - 16" tall which were covered by wooden framed glass
glazed "windows"
3- 4' long and 6' wide. Some gardeners of this era would use wooden
planks to
cover their beds in winter.
The growers would dig out a section of soil from these beds even
in the dead
of winter since the soil in them never froze and add a layer of
the fresh manure
into the bed covering it with a layer of soil into which the sowed
radishes,
carrots, beets, turnips and other root crops. The heat generated
from the decaying
fresh manure would rise up through the soil warming it enough
to continue production
all winter. In the coldest times of subzero weather a layer of
straw would be
laid on top of the frame covers for additional protection from
frost. Fresh manure
piled up against the sides of the frames was a common practice
as well. As the
manure decomposed over time it would be worked in with the topsoil
layers in
between crops further enriching the soil. Over the course of many
years of this
practice extraordinary layers of fertile topsoil were created.
Some areas that
were worked in this fashion have layers of rich topsoil to this
day to a depth
of 2 - 3'!
During the course of his vegetable farming he met the daughter
of another German
immigrant family, Sophie Meyer. The romantic in me would like
to believe that
they fell in love, that Sophie met her prince charming and Friedrich
who now
went simply by "Fred" had met the girl of his dreams,
but I know that many of
these marriages formed out of duty, tradition and the necessity
of bearing children
to have the farmhands necessary to perform the labor needed to
survive in the
days when horsepower on the farm was measured in horses J
In the mid 1890's Cincinnati was growing up the hills and out
along it's streams.
The industrial revolution was in full swing and populations were
increasing.
The grain belt of the Midwest was churning out larger and larger
quantities of
corn, wheat, rye, barley, oats and other crops which needed to
be stored and
transferred for shipment to markets at home and abroad. These
crops were hauled
by rail and the railroad decided to build a grain terminal along
the mill creek
and forced it's tenants to seek ground for their vegetables elsewhere.
The year
was 1896.
Some of them chose to move to the farmland in what is today
Colerain township.
A few savvy growers moved to Gray road. Fred and his wife Sophie
were among them.
Fred was included in a group that realized that the much needed
manure could
be pulled by a team of two horses from the stockyards on spring
grove avenue
in short time whereas pulling the hill of Colerain avenue required
a team of
four. Those growers would have to hitch their wagons up with two
teams each morning
and park one pair at a hitching post at the base of Colerain hill
continuing
on to the stockyards with one pair and then hook the other two
back up to the
wagon on the return trip up the long winding hill. A process that
added several
hours to job of hauling manure.
The growers of Gray road and wooden shoe hollow were able to
spend these hours
working their beds and tending their vegetables.
Fred and Sophie settled onto 4 acres just beyond the north
gate of Spring grove
cemetery into the house where the weaver's guild now resides.
They set up housekeeping
or "farmkeeping" in the tradition of their ancestors
with hogs, chickens, a milk
cow, work horses and of course vegetable beds. Children soon followed,
Fred
jr., Bill, Ed, Sophie, George, Cliff, Harry, Lucy, and Carrie.
Over the course of time the gardeners saw a market for fresh
tomatoes year round.
This required a level of sophistication and technology above and
beyond the manure
lined hot beds and they began to build greenhouses in the early
1900's. The greenhouse
concept was not new and had been in use in Europe for quite some
time since the
first prototypes were built in Holland in the 1600's, but it was
at this time
in America when they began to catch on in a big way due to application
of steam
and hot water boilers made affordable by the advancements in manufacturing
during
the industrial revolution. Coal was cheap and plentiful flowing
by rail from
the mines in Kentucky. By river and rail countless tons of the
hard black anthracite
poured into Cincinnati's homes, factories, and newly constructed
greenhouses.
Although there were greenhouses in the area in the late 1800's
they began to
spring up in great numbers by the Nineteen teens. The truck had
begun to replace
the horse as the common method of propulsion for carrying the
loads of manure
from the stockyards and the loads of produce to market. Many of
the earlier greenhouses
were built low to the ground with gutters 4-5' high and peaks
of perhaps 7-8'.
The logic behind this was that a smaller air mass took less fuel
to heat. In
practice the opposite is true since a larger air mass retains
it's solar energy
longer into the night and once warm cools down more slowly making
a larger structure
more efficient than a small one. In the early 1900's coal was
cheap, crop prices
were good, and hard work from sunup to sundown was a way of life
so efficiency
was not a primary consideration. The structure size and height
was increased
to better grow the vine crops of tomatoes and cucumbers.
Fred and Sophie's children grew and participated in the family
farm. The girls
found husbands, Harry met an early demise to sickness in his teens.
Bill and
Ed decided to strike out on their own in 1920 and purchased a
property nearby.
Cliff decided not to farm but stayed nearby building his house
off a corner of
the family farm. George and Fred jr. stayed at home with their
parents. The house
was big enough that even when George and Fred jr. married and
started to have
their own children there was room for all and always plenty to
do. When the great
depression came it was handy to have plenty of hands to make sure
all were fed.
Uncounted long hours were spent just to make sure the taxes were
paid, meat was
on the table and coal was in the hopper for the house and the
greenhouses.
The two boys down the road Bill and Ed along with their families
did their best
to make due as well. Bill being an entrepreneur at heart had a
permanent stand
at Findlay market.
Many local growers did as well at that time. Their efforts were
thwarted when
several local produce brokers with deep pockets resorted to what
can only be
called dirty business and opened competing stands selling produce
below cost
just long enough to force the local growers to sell to them leaving
the retail
business in the hands of the produce "barons". Bill
was one of those growers
forced into selling to the brokerage houses.
After 20 years had passed Ed was getting tired of doing the
lion's share of the
work while Bill pursued social events. Ed decided it was time
to leave and got
a job driving a delivery truck. Bill on his own and not being
inclined to the
long physical hours quickly went bankrupt. Back on the family
farm up the street
George and Fred jr's kids were getting bigger and things were
beginning to get
a little crowded so George bought Bill's place out of receivership
and moved
with his wife Edna and their two children Bob, 10, and Carole,
7 to 4798 Gray
in 1940.
Bill spent the rest of his adult work life tending the boiler at Krohn conservatory.
George knew well what hard work was and took great pride in
his products. The
place he'd bought was in pretty run down condition and in severe
need of an overhaul.
The heating system was in disrepair, the greenhouse structures
themselves needed
glass fixed, bars scraped, new paint and putty and the soil in
them had been
neglected. Through sheer force of will and body he tackled the
task of putting
his new range back into top condition. He converted the old hot
water heating
system over to low pressure steam and added a steam sterilization
system in the
ground of the greenhouses.
I can remember as a small child hearing the tale of how 10,000
perforated clay
tiles were laid in the greenhouses in just ten days. In the early
40's there
were large groups of young black men migrating north seeking work
and life away
from the oppression of the Deep South. George hired ten of these
young men on
one day and set about the job of installing the steam tiles. Ten
men working
ahead of him digging the trenches and following up behind him
filling the soil
back in with him setting each tile perfecting aligned with the
one laid before
it creating the long ceramic perforated tubes through which live
steam could
be fed from the boiler that would work it's way up through the
soil killing off
harmful diseases and killing any weed seeds that might have drifted
in through
the ventilators.
George was very impressed with the work ethic of one of those
young men and offered
him a job. He accepted. His name was Roosevelt Barker. Roosevelt
was a bit of
a mouthful for George and George asked him if he could just call
him "Roody".
Roosevelt said that was fine with him and Roody was hired.
George and Roody worked hard together with Edna and the kids
and within several
years the place was in great shape, turning a profit and cranking
out uncounted
tons of some of Cincinnati's finest tomatoes, leaf and bibb lettuce
and cucumbers.
George was proudest of his tomatoes. Edna was no stranger to them
either as she'd
been raised in the vegetable business herself. Her family, the
Kissels, had a
greenhouse and truck farming operation at the intersection of
Crawford and Springlawn
just across the cemetery from George and his family.
The valley where the Kissel place had been given the nickname
"frogtown" because
of the immense number of frogs in the creek that ran through that
valley. In
those days it was one of the many tributaries that flowed into
the mill creek.
At some point the city decided to bury it and turn it into a piped
sewer as they
have with so many of the once beautiful watersheds around the
area. The frogs
may have been gone, their environment having been changed into
a sewer pipe,
but the name "frogtown" stuck until well into the 1980's.
George and Edna raised their children and grew their vegetables.
George's brother
Fred inherited the original place and ran the greenhouses with
his wife and three
sons. The post war economy was good and the demand for fresh locally
grown produce
was high, coal was still cheap and plentiful and the greenhouses
around the area
flourished. The growers even formed an organization they called
the "truck growers"
which was formally known as the Hamilton county vegetable growers
association.
George and Fred and all the descendants who carried the old family
names banded
together and ran their own produce brokerage taking back some
of the business
they'd lost to the large brokerage houses in the 20's and 30's.
One pioneering grower in this early post world war two era
Bill Mattfeld sr.,
whose greenhouses were located in "frogtown" had broken
with vegetable production
tradition and had started raising flowering plants for garden
planting and floral
use. He was the only grower of this time in this area of Cincinnati
doing so.
George Funke's son Bob was inspired by this and left home at 19
to go to Columbus
and study floriculture at Ohio State where he spent much of his
recreational
time playing saxophone in the Ohio state marching band. In 1953
he returned home
with dreams of beautiful gardens and greenhouses full of flowers
in his mind
and in his heart. Bob persuaded his tomato loving father to give
him some greenhouse
space to start growing flowers.
George reluctantly agreed to give Bob a small space in the
first greenhouse to
grow some bedding plants. George had come through the great depression
and really
didn't see any practical use for flowers. Bob's retail flower
customers even
had to walk through the tomato vines for the first couple of years
to get to
the plants that Bob had for sale.
Bob's flower plants were a hit with the avid gardeners of Clifton
and North Avondale
who would plant thousands of annuals each year to grace their
large homes and
grounds.
Word quickly spread of the young man and his beautiful bedding
plants. George
even allowed Bob to start using some of the hot beds previously
used for winter
vegetables to plant pansies for early spring sales. The pansies
were sown in
late august directly into the ground in the greenhouses and then
transplanted
into the beds in September giving them time to grow on before
winter set in where
they would continue to grow on under the glass "windows"
until March and April
when they would be dug out bare root for the customers who would
transplant them
into their gardens. This process yielded fat and healthy pansies
toughened by
winter that were prized by Cincinnati's home gardeners.
During this time much of Bob's social life revolved around
his close knit group
of friends from around the greenhouse grower community and Matthew's
United church
of Christ, which were virtually synonymous, and the girl next
door who he'd grown
up with, Helen Goetz. In 1955 the boy and girl next door were
married and settled
in with Bob's parents sharing the frame house until George and
Edna's new brick
house was completed. This took time since it also involved moving
one of the
greenhouses from the front of the place to the back in order to
make room for
the new home. Moving an old glass greenhouse is no easy task since
each pane
of glass must first be removed and stored without breakage. Then
the structural
members removed and stored until finally the gutter posts are
exposed and removed
and reinstalled in the new location. At that point all of the
components can
be reattached in the order in which they were removed from the
previous location.
George, Roody and Bob worked for months to complete the process
while making
sure the crops were planted and cared for and the large family
feeding vegetable
garden was planted and cared for as well.
Ornamental crops may have entered the picture but much of the
traditional farm
life of years past continued with the annual cycle of the seasons.
The family
garden was planted and harvested, the men picking and the women
cooking and canning,
hogs were no longer raised but the meat was purchased in bulk,
ground by hand
and pressed into casings then tied in loops, hung on long sticks
and hauled backed
to the smokehouse where George would light the annual smoldering
fire of his
ancestors with wood from an apple or cherry tree cut down sometime
during the
preceding year. They called it Mettwurst but it was far stronger
than anything
sold by that name today. In the fall the entire area would be
perfumed with the
smoke from the dozens of smokehouses on the family farms smoking
the mettwurst
for their families and for the fundraiser at Matthew's UCC where
they would hold
a supper open to the public and sell the mettwurst to any who
wanted it. With
the large number of families of German ancestry in the surrounding
neighborhoods
it was always in high demand.
Sixty years had now passed since the railroad forced the immigrant
farmers from
the fertile bottom land of the mill creek but the gardeners had
adapted and through
years of hard work and countless tons of manure hauled first by
horse and wagon
and now by truck they had created fertile soil up one of the tributary
valleys.
The wooden shoe hollow creek and Spring grove avenue had led them
to a land in
which they flourished and prospered in the gardening tradition
of their ancestors
and called themselves "gardeners".
'Til next time my gardening friend......
A warm and heartfelt....
Happy gardening!
Al Funke