Park Hill Character: Great Tomato Giveaway
Pop-Up Love Yields 86 Plants In 1.5 Hours
Interview with Rick Strittmater
For the GPHN

One lovely Saturday in May, on the sidewalk at 23rd and Dexter, a man in a ball cap and a blue bandana appeared.
Rick Strittnater was smiling and loading up tables with pots of tomato plants, which he had grown from seed and nurtured until the day he could brighten this section of the neighborhood with a pop-up tomato giveaway.
Here is the story behind the story, as shared by Strittmater via his wife, June Nery.
• We live on the 30th block of Dahlia and have been in the neighborhood for 16 years, barring a nine-year stint in Mexico – but we always came back to Park Hill in the summers. Our son went to the Children’s Center and is now at East. We’re the typical “We Love Park Hill” fans.
• It is my firm belief that gardening is a great way to turn into one’s self, where you make a deal with nature, delve into tending to something for weeks or more, exhibiting faith and hope, diligence and patience. I tied each of those traits into the fact that last year my zucchini plants forced upon me feelings of charity just to save from wasting any of the bounty from these vigorous plants. As the challenges of the daily “stay-at-home” grind churned on and on in March, this idea of planting something for others struck me.
• I and my wife work from our Dahlia Street house. Thus, I thought that since I was home anyway it would be easy to plant something to benefit others, in a small way – perhaps by just giving away some tomato plants.
• Nearly all of the seeds were purchased from Johnny’s Selected Seeds only because their catalog seemed to be the first of many to show up in the mail during those short, dark days of December. Planting started in earnest in mid-March with grow mix, seed starter trays, heating mats and a large cobbled together cardboard structure, duct taped together, which gave away the fact that I’m a structural engineer. Grow lights were hung over the fully populated cell packs and an old fluffy blanket was draped over the top of the box in the garage.
• This had to work because there was no room in the house to rescue the bounty. Everything seemed to take off as planned and before I knew it, I had to get the seedlings out of the cells and into larger pots.
• As I and my wife often walked to Honey Hill Café for coffee and a pastry, I noticed that there was always a great gathering of folks there. Young, old, singles, couples, families, dog walkers, runners, you name it. It struck me that I could simply set up a table right here and it would be a cinch to give all of the plants away in an atmosphere of waiting for the fabulous Honey Hill Café staff to prepare your hot drink and wrap up your pastry. The last part would be to take home something that you could nourish and it would return the favor.
• Having a free plant to take home on Mother’s Day weekend would also hopefully keep people out of the busy crowds at the big box stores. A planting could also be a science experiment for kids who are no longer able to go to school. I offered up a diagram of how to prune an indeterminate variety so you could have just two main stems and plenty of fruit on what might be an 8- to 10-foot tall plant. The challenge was thus set in many folks’ minds.
• A total of 86 plants disappeared in about one-and-a-half hours on the Saturday morning of Mother’s Day weekend. Eight total varieties of tomatoes were given away, including large red slicers, heirlooms, cherry and fun small oblong shapes that appeal to kids.
• An abundance of stories were shared about tomato varieties that others have planted and loved. A real knitting together of the Park Hill community ensued in the most organic and holistic of ways. People even turned off their cars at the stoplight at 23rd and Dexter to jump out for a freebie plant! Plants were balanced on stroller handles, stuffed into the drink carrier on bikes and carried home in hats turned upside down.
• Everyone involved seemed to forget about why we had these masks on. They were patient to stand 6 feet back as those at the table took their time to grab the plant they wanted.
• It just could not have been more “Park Hill” than that.