Duke Wagatha drives down from northern Michigan each year to sell his Christmas trees. While in Ann Arbor, he and his crew live in this 1951 Vagabond trailer. (Photo by Mark Brush)
It’s that time of year again – parking lots across the country are filled with Christmas trees. Just about one out of every three people who celebrate Christmas buys a live tree. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Mark Brush spent some time with one tree grower in the height of tree-selling season:
Transcript
It’s that time of year again – parking lots across the country are filled with Christmas trees. Just about one out of every three people who celebrate Christmas buys a live tree. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Mark Brush spent some time with one tree grower in the height of tree-selling season:
(Sound of generator, saws, people chatting)
It’s a crisp afternoon at this Christmas tree lot. That generator you hear is powering the electric saws. The guys trim up the base of the tree so it’ll fit on a tree stand. Their hands are all blackened with sap and dirt from wrestling hundreds of trees off of the flat bed truck. They take the bundled trees, open them up, and stick them onto stands. They’ve created a makeshift forest in the middle of this strip mall parking lot. Customers wander through the forest searching for the perfect tree.
(sound of talking)
Duke Wagatha runs this tree lot in southeastern Michigan. He appears with his trees each year from his farm up north.
“We get here the weekend before Thanksgiving. Takes us probably about a week, or five days to set up. With the idea of opening the day after Thanksgiving. We like to let folks get one holiday out of the way and then we start on the next…”
He calls his business “Flat-Snoots Trees.” You couldn’t tell from looking at his face now, but he calls it “Flat-Snoots” to make light of a broken nose he suffered in high school.
Duke’s coveralls are all tarnished with pine needles and sap. And when he moves, you hear ringing from the bells on his hat. He moves between the trees in his parking lot forest telling his customers jokes and filling their heads with visions of Scotch Pine, Fraser Firs, and Blue Spruce.
Margaret Jahnke has been buying trees from Duke for more than six years.
“He just makes it really personable – and there was one year, it was really kind of warm and he had his Hawaiian shirt on and his straw hat, and he was out here partyin’ away! And I’m like, ‘Whoa!’ It’s fun to come… you know just to run in… you know to talk to him. And they’re really helpful!”
While they’re away from home, Duke and his crew live in a 1950’s vintage trailer. The trailer’s paint is faded, but Duke spruces it up for the holidays with wreaths and pine boughs. And when you step inside, the old lamps and rustic furniture make it seem as if you’ve stepped back in time.
(Sound of trailer door opening)
“Whooo! It feels better in here doesn’t it? I needed a good excuse to get in here.”
The trailer also doubles as his office. Customers pay for their trees in here, and on occasion, they’ll have a complimentary nip of what Duke calls his “bad Schnapps.” Duke is from Mesick, a small rural town in northern Michigan. Christmas tree farming is big business in Michigan. The state is second only to Oregon in the number of acres that are in Christmas tree production.
Duke calls himself a small-time grower. He’s a carpenter by trade, but his work tends to dry up in the long winter months.
“It’s not enough to make a living for me and my family year-round, but it’s a good extra source of income… and, uh… winters are tough up there, so if you make a little bit of extra money – winters are tough and expensive. Living in the country, you know, like anybody, you got propane bills and all that, and it’s a little colder up there, so to make a little bit of money going into winter is pretty nice.”
A lot of work went into growing the trees that are now on his lot. Each summer, workers plod through the rows and rows of trees, swinging razor sharp machetes. They trim each tree to give them that classic, symmetrical, Christmas tree shape. And after about ten years, the trees are ready for harvest. They’re cut, they’re run through a baling machine, and they’re loaded onto trucks and shipped down to the lots.
(sound of customers on lot)
Even though there’s a jovial atmosphere on the lot, there’s also a sense of urgency. After all, Duke only has a few weeks to sell trees that in many cases have taken more than ten years to grow. And while selling the trees is an important part of Duke’s income, he gets something else out of it. He enjoys making connections with the people who wander through his tree lot.
“Sometimes you get grumpy folks coming in, and it’s usually just because they’re overwhelmed with shopping… it’s cold out… they didn’t wear their long underwear or whatever… but we can usually get them turned around, you know, we have a little fun with them… like I say if we have to bring them to the trailer and have a shot of bad Schnapps with ’em, hey, that’s just fine too.”
It’s closing time at the tree lot. The workers are headed for a warmer space. Right now, Duke’s trailer is filled with his extended family and friends…
(sound of door opening)
“Come on in! This is Duke’s family… it’s warm in here, huh?”
Duke will continue to sell his trees right up until Christmas Eve. Then, he’ll drive home to spend a few days with his family before he comes back to tear the lot down.
“It’s kind of like the circus coming to town. You build up your tree lot, you almost build like, well, I wouldn’t say a village, but a little spot where there was nothing, just, you know, an asphalt parking lot. And when we leave, there’s nothing left – we sweep ‘er up and go – so it’s almost like a mirage… were those guys really here?”
(sound of laughter)
And so, they spring to their trucks and drive out of sight, knowing they’ve helped make the season merry night after night.
For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Mark Brush.