Stuck on Cactus, Long Beach Club Members Tolerate Lots of Barbs
Consider, if you will, the cactus.
To some detractors, cactus seems more appropriate in a Western movie than on a sunny window sill. As they see it, the spiny succulent is about as lovable as poison ivy.
Despite those opinions, the barbed desert plant has a devoted band of strong supporters: the Long Beach Cactus Club. To them, a cactus is a whole lot prettier than a pine tree and has charm a rose could never muster.
“Some people who grow orchids look down their noses at cactus collectors, but they shouldn’t,” says Edward (Ted) Taylor, 78, club president. “Orchids are pretty, but we don’t think they’re nearly as nice as a well-tended cactus.”
The 70 or so members of the club meet once a month, and the talk is strictly succulents.
They trade cacti. They watch slide shows and hear lectures on cacti in native habitats. They discuss methods for growing a good cactus. They share stories of problem plants sprouting flowers for the first time.
They even cart their prize specimens off to cactus shows, hoping one will be named best of show. Such an honor, one member joked, makes a winning cactus “the Miss America” of succulent society.
Members of the Long Beach Cactus Club have been sharing their love of the plants since 1933. The group, composed of people of many ages from throughout the area, is one of the two oldest cactus clubs in the country, according to members. Several club members have gone on to hold high office in the Cactus and Succulent Society of America, a nationwide group.
Although some cactus critics ridicule the plants for their glacially slow growth and bizarre appearances, supporters see those traits as admirable.
“Cactus and other succulents can symbolize patience, strength, endurance,” said Carol Wujcik, secretary of the Long Beach club. “I think they appeal visually to many people. There’s nothing more sculptural than a cactus. There’s an exotic aspect to them.”
Wujcik and other members of the club are confirmed cactiholics, for whom one plant is not enough.
Take, for example, the case of Rowena Thompson.
A decade ago, Thompson hated cacti.
“We’d see them when we’d drive out through the desert, and I thought they were the ugliest things that grew,” she recalled.
But, when a doctor diagnosed Thompson, 53, as being allergic to pollen from some trees and grasses, she decided to try landscaping her Wilmington home with cacti.
Today, Thompson said, she owns more than 5,000 of the plants. She even markets the plants she propagates at home from seeds and cuttings.
‘It’s Therapeutic’
“I find it’s a lot better than going to a psychologist,” Thompson joked. “It’s therapeutic. You go out into the greenhouse and start grooming your plants, and you forget about all your troubles. It’s a relief from the day’s tortures.”
For many fans of cacti, cultivating the plants becomes a very personal experience.
“I know one couple that gives names to all their plants,” said Eleanor Barker, a past president of the club. “Some people do go that far. Mostly, though, they don’t give them names like George or Henry or Marshall.”
Although Southern California is the mecca for cactus collectors, with nearly a dozen clubs from San Diego to Bakersfield, the plants can be grown in less inviting climes, Wujcik said.
Started in Ohio
“I started growing them when we lived in Ohio, putting them under fluorescent lights for eight months of the year,” she said. “You could probably grow cactus in Nome, Alaska, if you worked at it long enough.”
Barker, who works in a nursery and has more than 2,000 cacti at her home in Lawndale, said many people grow so fond of their plants that they can spot them in a crowd.
She recalled having a cactus at her house that continued to grow bigger and bigger but refused to bloom.
“One day I got so frustrated I started shaking my finger at it and said if it didn’t bloom this year, I’d throw it out,” Barker said. “That summer it covered itself with orange flowers. It was probably a coincidence, but I like to tell the story.”
