A Tribute to Friend and Nursery Leader Rick Berry
January 21, 2022 
Marc Richardson (left) and Rick Berry (right) led Goodness Grows Nursery in the Southeast until Rick’s passing in November.
Many years ago, I met an excited gardener who wanted to share her memories of a trip to a place called Goodness Grows Nursery in Lexington, GA. She spoke in almost reverential tones, as if she had returned from Machu Picchu or some other equally remarkable place. She talked of beautiful displays, wonderful gardens, and perfectly grown plants, but mostly she talked about two young men, Marc Richardson and Rick Berry. She couldn’t wait to get her friends together to go back the next week.
I smiled and listened to her as I had with so many others who had visited Goodness Grows, bought a few plants, and came away with a feeling of being somewhere very special. The more people I talked to, the more it was obvious that the plants were often secondary — they just wanted to walk about, meet people like themselves, and say hello to Marc and Rick.
I am not sure how the term “destination nursery” came to be, but I am sure that Goodness Grows was its embodiment. And, I may add, not only for gardeners and customers in North Georgia. When horticultural colleagues visited from Wisconsin, California, or Ohio, they insisted I take them to this nursery they had heard so much about. And there are more than a few students who were influenced by Marc and Rick after a field trip to the nursery.
Marc Richardson was special, and Rick would wax eloquently about his horticultural skills and his love of the nursery. When Marc passed away in 2008, the horticultural world mourned, but none more so than Rick. As he picked up the pieces of his life, he continued to manage the nursery as demand for Goodness Grows products expanded. The wholesale yard expanded, new greenhouses appeared, and growing areas popped up, yet the serenity, the calmness, and the beauty of the retail area never changed. Nor did Rick. His smile upon seeing you, his enthusiasm for his friends in the industry, and his love of sharing were simply part of his DNA. Even when he was overwhelmed with bad weather, poor health, or inability to find help, he would always have a good word and make you feel like you were his best friend.
Rick passed away in November, and what a legacy the nursery leaves behind. As a horticulturist, I was always fascinated by stories of how plants found their way to the market. Today, there are many hundreds of new introductions every year, but not so in the 1980s and early 1990s. In fact, in the 1980s, the term perennial gardening was hardly even recognized in the South. I have been around for many years, but I don’t believe anyone influenced the growth of the perennial plant industry in the Southeast more than Rick and Marc and Goodness Grows. They were not only a nursery — to so many of us, they were our lab and classroom.
As I became more involved in the industry, I became fascinated by varieties Marc and Rick had introduced, such as the chance seedling of Veronica which became well known as Veronica ‘Goodness Grows’ in 1982. Talking with Rick and Marc, I learned about how the nursery promoted other local introductions like Achillea ‘Oertel’s Rose’, and worked with designer Ryan Gainey to introduce Ryan’s strain of hardy chrysanthemums. In the late 1980s, they encouraged the sale of a local Shasta daisy, later to be known as ‘Becky’. And their collaboration with the fabulous Jane Bath resulted in the introduction of one of our truly great plants, Dianthus ‘Bath’s Pink’. I remember ‘Marc’s Apollo’ sunflower, massive and brilliant. There were many others, but the story of their neighbor Miss Ruby Huff was the epitome of who they were and how they expanded gardening horizons. For years, lantana ‘Miss Huff’ was the definition of southern gardening. They were like magnets for plants that worked, and we were all the richer for them.
I knew Rick had a life other than being a nurseryman, but on one visit a few years ago, he kept me enthralled with his stories of his experiences. I was blown away when he told me he was the mayor of Lexington, GA. Who knew? He served in that capacity from 2016 until his passing.
The last time I saw Rick was last summer; he was tootling around the nursery on his golf cart with his partner Kurt and their beloved dog Kaydee beside them. I was quickly taken back to the year 2000 and a similar cart, but with Rick and Marc and their two imperial Dobermans. I am a little embarrassed to say that I paid more attention to the various dogs than to the fellows, but as Rick said, “Everyone does, we’re used to it.”
I could write much more about the nursery, as wonderful as it was. I want to remember the man who always had a good word to say about others, and always shared his time and expertise and, many times his plants. I want to remember Rick Berry for his humanity, his compassion, and most of all his kindness to everyone. For anyone who knew Rick Berry, this will not be hard to do.
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