Cantigny garden program helps veterans to relate, to grow

It doesn't look like the rest of the gardens at Cantigny Park in Wheaton, and, in fact, it's not accessible to the public.

But among the remnants of a Ph.D. project, which left behind a series of rounded raised beds filled with soil, almost like a field of big buckets, lies a garden that has become a nurturing place to create and grow.

The garden is tended by two master gardeners, certified in a program through the University of Illinois Extension, and by 20 or so veterans from all eras who are learning from, and simultaneously teaching, the masters.

Master Gardeners Logan Wasson of Naperville, a veteran who served in the late 1960s as a military mapmaker, and Fritz Porter of Glen Ellyn, a non-veteran who wants to thank those who have served, focus their efforts on teaching the techniques of Midwestern vegetable gardening. But other learning is unavoidable, they say.

The lessons start basic.

“The fact that there are more things to grow than tomatoes and peppers,” Porter says. (The gardens they refer to as “pods” contain a variety of yellow squash, winter squash, zucchini, beets, carrots, okra, lettuce, peas, radishes, beans and cucumbers, in addition to the regular two of tomatoes and peppers.)

The fact the growing season can be separated into three phases, each with different plantings adjusted to handle them best: cool, warm and cool.

The difference between a weed and an on-purpose plant. (An on-purpose plant is easy to pull.)

The importance of good growing soil.

The role of insects in gardening.

The reason some plants are susceptible to disease.

“No talk on my side is directed,” Wasson says about his interactions with participating veterans. “It's whatever they want to talk about. If it's the sounds on Roosevelt Road that remind them of the noises of Vietnam, then that's what we talk about. If it's 'What's this funny spot on the tomato?' then that's what we talk about.”

With such wide-ranging conversation, the lessons can be deep, too.

“It's a byproduct of us being there with them and just becoming human with each other,” Wasson says.

Veterans notice the freedom they feel to join with others for the purpose of planting, and to allow whatever else comes to mind, says Vietnam Army veteran Mike Barbour of Naperville, a gardener in the program for three years.

Camaraderie is what Barbour says he gains as a person, especially during weekly Saturday morning sessions with other Vietnam veterans turned budding vegetable gardeners.

“We all talk among ourselves while we're gardening about stuff that happened in Vietnam and things like that,” Barbour said. “It's kind of a counseling for us and helps us know that we all went through the same stuff.”

Veterans join mainly through the Aurora Vet Center or the Midwest Shelter for Homeless Veterans in Wheaton, and the vet center sends a counselor to be on hand should the participants want to consult. Yet the master gardeners in charge don't view their garden as medicinal in the traditional sense.

“We all decided it wasn't a therapy garden,” Porter says. “Because none of us are therapists.”

They're regular people instead, with a touch of philosopher, in Wasson's case. He's written about the gardening program in materials to explain it to the veterans, and his tone waxes poetic.

“From the beginning of potential to the flowering and fruiting, the specialness of our existence is revealed,” he writes, “and perhaps the specialness of each of us can be passed on in the metaphor of the garden.”

Wasson doesn't apologize for his mindful tendencies about the transformation in the garden. Veterans can learn to see things differently among the “pods,” he says.

They can learn to be inspired by puffy clouds, vibrant leaves or big caterpillars. They can learn to see value in rain, little flying mites and soil. They can discover the excitement of a perfectly ripe tomato, a cucumber that's actually edible, the flower of the okra plant, the color of a freshly dug carrot, a bean pod hiding under layers of leaves.

Wasson's goal is to get all the veterans he can “hooked” on the wonder.

“We're helping them with learning to grow,” he says.

For this gardener, and for those he tutors, “learning to grow” has a double meaning: to grow plants and to grow as a person, both naturally and internally.

Garden-wise, Barbour says he's learned patience. He describes his yard as a garden with a house in between, but says he's not the slow-and-steady type.

“My philosophy is I plant it, I want it to be fully grown in a week,” he said. “But that doesn't work.”

Human spirit-wise, Barbour says he knows those who garden walk away enriched.

How so?

“That's up to them,” Wasson says.