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Sweet Olive memories Dear Editor, I am an avid reader of Dora Fleming's gardening column in The Clarke County Democrat, and the one discussing "Tea Olive" brought back many happy memories of my mother and my grandmother. I grew up many years ago in Grove Hill as a member of the Brady family. My dad, W. C. Brady, and later my brother Bill owned and operated Brady Hardware Company and Irma Brady Carlson is my very dear sister-in-law. My husband, Dick Brink, and I live most of the year in White Bear Lake, Minnesota, but usually spend February, March and April at our Atlanta home. My mother, Ethel Brady, actually had the first florist business in Grove Hill, perhaps in the entire county, and the back and side yards surrounding her greenhouse were filled with beautiful flowers. In the 1930s, florist shops only existed in cities. She provided flowers on the altar of our Methodist Church for 30 years and found herself supplying flowers to her friends for many occasions as well. Finally she was convinced her that she would be fulfilling a real need if she opened her own flower business. I remember when she received her first supplies; a few small ceramic pots in which one could grow cacti and other tiny succulents. The entire order totaled $1.25! Certainly she tested the water with one tiny toe; however, her business grew rapidly and she soon had customers throughout the county and beyond. Later on, as she began to retire, she was an advisor and consultant to all the people in Grove Hill and other towns in the county who were establishing their own florist businesses. My grandmother, Lucia Wild Andrews, who lived in Jackson and also was a flower lover, came up for frequent visits. Each time she arrived the first item on the agenda was to "go outside and look at the flowers." Some of my earliest memories involve trudging around the yard with her as she inspected the dahlias and sweet peas and anything else that was blooming. In my mother's yard as well as in her own was her favorite, a large Tea Olive bush, referred to by us as "Sweet Olive." She always plucked a small sprig and stuck it in a buttonhole or pinned it to her dress; it was her signature piece. When she died in 1949 her funeral was held in her home in Jackson, which was the custom at that time. She would have loved it; this was an era before memorial gifts were common and beautiful floral arrangements lined all of the walls, giving the space around her casket the feeling of a giant garden. Some friend of her sons had sent a bouquet of orchids, which were placed in her hands, and even though they were beautiful, all of us agreed that they seemed out of character. One glance was enough to send a family member out in her yard to find some sprigs of Sweet Olive. The orchids were placed elsewhere and those who saw her last remembered her holding those fragrant small white flowers that she loved so much. I have always remembered the words spoken at her funeral service- the minister must have known her well. At the conclusion of her service he said, "May she walk where flowers never die." I can think of nothing better than to ask the same for all of us. Thank you so much, Dora, for triggering such happy memories. I look forward to your columns and I apply as much of your wisdom as possible while gardening in Zone Four instead of Seven or Eight!
Ruth Brady Cousins Brink
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