Franklin County, Nebraska

For Another Day

Editor’s note: Noticing some garden lily ponds in the area over Memorial Day weekend, subscriber and former Bloomington resident Donald Versaw remembered some lily ponds in his community when he was a youth. The following article was written by Mr. Versaw, his lily pond memories shared through the courtesy of Rena Donovan.

“There was a time in Bloomington when folks had to have lily ponds. To be popularly accepted, a person just had to have one.

“While I was growing up in the 1920’s, the tiny pools were like a Jacuzzi of today-something of a status symbol. The principle object of water gardens were to raise water lilies-all kinds of water lilies. There are a number of varieties in the Nymphaia family or Genus Castalia. They usually have large, showy white blossoms, but there are some striking red varieties too. One of the varieties inspired Sylvia Boker, a prominent Albuquerque, NM artist to render a large oil painting of them that recently sold for $9,000.

“In the ponds of Bloomington, the floating blossoms were not big and exotic red blooms, but smaller blushing pink and pale yellow ones. The flowers actually looked small, among the oddly formed green leaves larger than frying pans, floating around on the crystal clear water. Large goldfish were delightful to watch flashing about chasing the great blue winged dragonflies skimming above the surface and defying the laws of aerodynamics. The lights reflected off the shiny scales of the fish were like tiny mirrors.

“Lily ponds are like fingerprints-they are all different. They were not available in stores or from mail order catalogs. Most were handcrafted by home gardeners who dug out little depressions in their gardens and cemented them over. The lily ponds reflected the ideas and craftsmanship of those who created them. People brought rocks of all shapes and descriptions home from their visits far and wide to decorate their lily pond sites.

“I remember one created in a garden on Maple Street by Gus Bailey, a blacksmith and town leader. His home, which was immediately west of the Methodist church parsonage, was partially bordered with a wrought iron fence and a bevy of colorful plants and shrubs. He cleverly positioned a five-foot, cast iron statue of a Whooping Crane in the background to guard the spot. He painted it blue-gray with a folded black wing. I lived next door to Mr. Bailey during 1938 and took a photograph of his lily pond with a Brownie #2A folding camera.”

Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song,
Visions of boyhood shall float them before you.
Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along. Edward Bowen

Rena Donovan, For Another Day.

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