Words alone can't express the magnitude of John Fanick's life. No nicer person, more honest nurseryman, or more dedicated horticulturist ever lived. John's life was like that of a beautiful garden. It was admired by all and can never be duplicated. It blazed an Arcadian image in the minds of all who had the fortunate pleasure of experiencing it.
Like Eden itself, no garden lasts forever. The most spectacular of flowers fade; the most brilliant of fruits fall; and the most noble of trees come down. However, nature knows no death. Each plant that dies creates a fleeting void quickly filled by those that never had a chance to flourish. Feathery seeds carry on in areas previously unblessed by their presence. And outstanding specimens are propagated and shared allowing their inherent beauty to be enjoyed throughout the world.
In one sense, John Fanick is gone. In another however, he'll be here forever. For as long as people plant, gardens grow, and flowers bloom, his life will live on.
When the hummingbird sips unseen from the trumpet creeper's bloom, John will be there. When the lady slipper throws her seed to the wind, only he will be there to catch it. And when the night blooming jasmine pours forth its heavenly fragrance, John too will drift through the garden.
Good bye, John Fanick. Like the most beautiful of gardens, you will be eternally missed. But your memory will grow on forever.
Greg Grant, February, 1996