December 28,1982 - In Search of the Perfect Christmas TreeSECOND SECTION
c �P Nrui-I'arvirw
December 28,1982
In Search of the Perfect Christmas Tree.
First there were pick - your -own berries,
then pick - your -own vegetables, and now,
just in time for the holidays, the pick -your-
own concept has been expanded to include
Christmas trees. In Suffolk County, there
are two such tree farms, the Davis Farm
in Dix Hills, and Ed Dart's on Bayview
Avenue in Southold, where both business
and the weather have been brisk as the
countdown to Christmas begins.
"People start coming out here in
November to reserve the trees they want,"
says Mr. Dart, who grows over 1,000 trees
per acre on approximately half of the 20
acre -farm owned by his father, Alfred.
Years ago, the trend was towards Scotch
pines for Christmas trees, but now Mr.
Dart says people seem to prefer the
Douglas fir and, he says, more and more
people are getting into the idea of picking
or digging their own.
"It's more traditional," said Jay Stroud
of Southold as he heaved a fresh -cut five
footer into the back of his station wagon.
"After our first one, the kids never wanted
to go back to just going' out and buying a
Christmas tree off a lot. This is more fun."
But is it, really? That was the question
we asked ourselves as photographer Judy
Ahrens and I set out to discover just what
it is that brings people out in the bitter cold
to wander around a field looking for the
perfect Christmas tree.
I have to admit it, the folks out there
seemed happy enough. Most were in small
groups. We gravitated to a spot where a
family of four was busy reconnoitering a
handsome young Douglas fir.
"This one looks nice," said the obvious
mother in the group.
"I like it, too," chirped the young son.
The father stood thoughtfully aside,
absenting himself from the decision, as his
wife and children circled the trees,
exclaiming over its fullness and size,
debating where it would stand in the
livingroom and arguing whether it would
or would not fit into the car.
A Time for Decisions
After explaining our presence in their
midst, photographer Ahrens and I stood
by, waiting their decision, ready to take
pictures and gather comments as the
family picked their tree. The wind was
howling out of the north under a steel grey
sky that threatened snow. People passed
us in the field, dragging shovels and saws
in search of their Christmas treasure.
"I... I'm freezing," said Judy, hopping
up and down. "Are they ready ?"
The woman turned and answered.
"Yes," she said. "We've decided. This is
our tree."
"Are you going to cut it or dig it up ?" I
saw uncertainty flicker on her face as the
question was asked.
"Well... cutting it would be easier, but
my daughter hates to see any tree cut
down." The woman glanced at her
husband for affirmation. "I guess we'll dig
it."
The daughter, 12- year -old Pamela
Norstrom, gave a relieved smile as her
father, Dennis, a physicist from
Brookhaven, gamely picked up a shovel
and began to dig.
It took only a few minutes to realize that
digging your own tree takes a lot longer
than cutting one. Judging by the speed at
which the work was progressing, it would
be at least an hour before the job was done.
Next to us, another couple had arrived.
Dan Andreoli of Rocky Point was already
at work, spread eagled on the ground in a
less- than - traditional pose for tree cutting,
but it was fast work. In five minutes, the
Andreoli's Christmas tree was ready to be
tied to their car.
"We came here today because it's
closer," Marilyn Andreoli told us. "Last
year we went all the way upstate and spent
an entire afternoon climbing around the
side of a mountain looking for a tree. By
dark we still hadn't found anything and we
ended up spending more and getting less
than we really wanted."
Bring the Anti- Freeze
"People have been coming here from as
far away as New Jersey," Ed Dart told us,
DO- IT- YOURSELFERS-- Phoebe, a friendly neighborhood bull terrier, stops
by to supervise as the Norstrom family of Shoreham digs up their
Christmas tree at Ed Dart's farm in Southold. Photo by Judy Ahrens
adding mischieviously that the colder the
weather gets the more empty blackberry
brandy bottles he finds tucked away in the
bushes.
Several rows down, two young children
were wandering among the pines with
their mother and father. We watched the
family's progress as they dutifully trudged
along, stopping at one and then another
tree before continuing on.
The Norstroms were still digging.
Noticeably absent was Pamela, the great
tree saver. Having initiated the project,
she had retreated to the relative warmth of
the family car.
"How do you know you're not cutting off
any vital roots ?" I asked Dennis
Norstrom, who was going about his job
with the delicate precision of a surgeon.
"I don't," came the crisp reply.
"Aw, he's doing fine," Ed Dart noted as
he passed by. "Douglas firs don't have any
tap roots. so they're a little easier to dig
than others.
By this time the group had been joined
by Phoebe, a neighborhood bull terrier,
who had decided to drop by to supervise.
"Is this a tree - digging dog ?" someone
joked. "I just saw on the news the other
day about a dog that digs clams... Sounds
delicious, doesn't it? Dog -dug clams."
"No, Phoebe doesn't dig clams," Ed
Dart answered with a hearty laugh.
Too bad. For the amount of time it was
taking, I was sure the Norstroms would
welcome any help, be it human or canine.
The family with the two young children
were still wandering around. Dora and
Cliff Jackson had driven out all the way
from Brentwood for their tree and Dora
was determined that it would be special.
"Look at this one!" son Anthony, age
six, squealed. His mother feigned
momentary interest in the small Scotch
pine being offered before shaking her head
no. Cliff Jackson, a New York City
fireman, seemed on the verge of losing his
sense of humor.
Bah, Humbug!
"We've been up and down this field six
times," he said pointedly. "I wish you
would make up your mind."
Dora blinked indignantly. "I have to live
with this tree for two whole weeks," she
stammered back at him. "It has to be just
right."
"Here's a nice one," Judy called,
beckoning us over to a tree nestled in a
dense row of Douglas firs.
"Oh my, that IS nice," Dora agreed
enthusiastically. Instinct told me that
Dora had found her tree, but she drew
back, taking me nervously aside to ask,
"Your friend isn't going to pick that tree
for herself, is she ?"
"Judy ?" I answered in surprise. "I don't
think so. Judy probably won't bother
putting up a tree... Wait, I'll ask her."
"Hey Judy. Do you want this tree for
yourself ?"
Judy gave me one of her astonished you -
should- know -me- better -by -now looks
which said it all.
The Jackson family gave a collective
sigh of relief. "We'll take it then," they
said.
The Norstrom family's tree was almost
dug. Now came the tricky part, sliding the
burlap that holds the soil and roots
together underneath the tree so that the
whole thing can be picked up in one fell
swoop. Dennis Norstrom and his 10 -year-
old son, Eric, were down in the hole
they'd created, inching the rough brown
fabric around the bottom. Ed Dart was
helping them tie. Nobody was looking for
comments from the peanut gallery.
"O.K. now," Mr. Norstrom commanded.
"One. Two. Three... Up!" The tree was
lifted from the earth and into the trunk of
the Norstrom's car. Judy took pictures as
father and son brushed the icy dirt from
their clothing and I asked Mrs. Norstrom
the inevitable question. Was it worth it?
"Oh sure," she answered brightly. "But
we'll have to see if it takes root before we
know if it was really worth it." The sore
muscles we've gotten will be forgotten by
tomorrow," she laughed. "It was fun... you
really should try it."
Last minute tree buyers will be happy to
know that Ed Dart's pick - your -own will be
open everyday from 9 a.m. to nightfall
until Christmas Eve. Less outdoorsey
types will find a good selection of pre -cut
and pre -dug trees at local nurseries. In the
end, it really doesn't matter. Big or small,
pre -cut or you -cut, Santa Claus likes them
all.
MARIA PARSON
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Season's Greetings
DURING THE COMING YEAR
We hope the future
Brings you good crops,
Good harvests,
And a heaping measure
Of health and happiness.
Rolle Bros.
ROUTE 58 — RIVERHEAD, L. 1. — PArk 7 -4383