The flatlands of central Illinois in the summertime are carved into rows of corn and soybeans. But about 70 miles south of Chicago the march of green is broken by splashes of vibrant colors where stalks of red, orange and violet bloom. The gladioluses are ready for harvesting.
The spiky-leafed flower is a cash crop in the Kankakee River valley; in the years before World War II, more than 500 acres were planted with nearly three dozen varieties of gladioluses, and the brightly colored flowers were picked and shipped all across the country. Today, only about five growers remain in a triangular area east and south of Kankakee, yet the gladiolus still reigns in Momence, about 15 miles east.
“Every small community has to have something to hold it together,” said Ova Parish, a lifelong resident of Momence, which is located about 15 miles east of Kankakee.
Many of Momence’s 3,200 residents are involved in planning the annual Gladiolus Festival, which was held this year, as it is every year, on the second weekend in August. And the recently concluded 58th annual festival attracted more than 7,000 visitors to the town for four days of flower shows, flea markets and parades.
To Parish and other residents, the festival is a reminder of a gentler, safer way of life–of porch swings, pitchers of fresh-squeezed lemonade and small-town neighborliness. It is the centerpoint of class reunions and family gatherings, with relatives coming to visit and parties spilling out-of-doors and down the block.
Steve Aicher, 28, and his wife, Tracy, hosted an open house for relatives at their turn-of-the-century home, inherited from Aicher’s aunt and uncle. They’ve been restoring the home for the last four years. “We get about 30 people,” Steve Aicher said. “My aunt and uncle used to hold an open house during the festival, and we decided to carry on the tradition.”
Lawn chairs are left along the parade route on Washington Street the entire weekend, and residents leave their front doors unlocked.
“This is a safe haven,” said Momence city collector Charlotte West, a resident for 30 years. “And it is a wonderful place to raise your children. I like to say my husband, who was born and raised here, took me kicking, screaming and clawing to this town. Now there is no way I’d ever leave.”
There isn’t a lot of industry in Momence–a meat-packing company and a lumber distributor are among the largest employers–and many residents travel up Int. Hwy. 57 to the southern suburbs for work. The local business district stretches for about four blocks and is home to a few small businesses–a barbershop, paint store, a resale shop and packaged goods store.
“So many towns are dying on the vine,” Parish said.
The Gladiolus Festival, while smaller in recent years, is still a reason for the townsfolk to spruce up their homes and take pride in their community. It brings back those who left and gives those who stayed a feeling of continuity and heritage.
The festival is run by a non-profit organization. “Whatever money we make, we spend,” said Parish.
But businesses in town see revenue increase during the event. “The restaurants do quite well,” West said. The park district rents Island Park to the Antique Car Club, the fire department holds a raffle that brings in several hundred dollars, and local groups, such as Momence area churches, use the festival to raise funds by sponsoring booths and other events including smorgasbords, chicken dinners and car washes.
Momence, which was founded in 1834 by French-Canadian fur traders, is at the apex of three farming communities–Kankakee to the west and St. Anne to the south–that at the time mostly comprised Dutch settlers. It was the Dutch heritage that led to the importation of gladiolus bulbs from Holland, and the flowers were grown mostly for personal enjoyment, Parish said. One of the first to grow “glads,” as the flowers are more commonly called, was C.S. Claussen, who owned a pickle factory in Wichert, between St. Anne and Momence.
According to a 1976 history of the festival written by Parish, a local farmer, A.P. Bonvallet, saw the flowers’ commercial value and planted a quarter-acre. Area farmers soon followed his example, and more than 500 acres were cultivated by about 80 growers in the Wichert-St.Anne area.
In 1934, Momence celebrated its centennial, and a local grower, Cornelius Tallman, built a parade float decorated entirely with gladioluses.
“My grandfather started it all,” said Anne Marie Miedema, 68, of Wichert. She is married to Elwood Miedema, one of the few growers left in the area, and they farm land originally owned by Tallman. “I used to help bunch flowers as a child,” she said.
Though the glads are grown 15 miles away, flowers are in everyday evidence. Large containers on the front porches of turn-of-the-century homes are filled with the elegant stalks, the blooms are centerpieces in displays at the hardware store and the tax accountant’s office, and Dixie Highway is renamed Gladiolus Avenue where it cuts a swath through the center of town.
The flowers played a part in the growth of the Momence as growers came to town to shop and worship, and many eventually built homes in the residential area north of the Kankakee River, West said.
Tallman’s centennial float was the flowering of an idea. In 1938, Momence held its first Gladiolus Festival, which featured a Gladiolus Queen, a professional and amateur flower growers’ show and a parade of floats featuring the local blooms.
The flower show attracts people from miles around, and tour buses idled outside the junior high school during the recent festival. Glads in shades ranging from deep purple to a pale green are arranged at the flower show, which takes up about a half-dozen rooms at the school. “Every year we get a new group and everything is different,” said Jean Hiskes, a Women’s Club hostess. “It’s hard to believe the wonderful things they can do with the flowers.”
Through the years, the festival has received national and international renown. It is commemorated on a collector’s whiskey bottle, and Parish, in her capacity as festival chairman, was invited to the Netherlands in 1983 to meet with Queen Beatrix.
Though the number of gladiolus growers has dwindled, there are still a number of founding families involved in the production of the flowers. For Elwood Miedema of Miedema Bros. Growers, the festival is such a busy time he doesn’t even get a chance to enjoy it. “I never left the warehouse,” he said.
Today, about 250 acres of flowers are under cultivation in the area, and during the season–which runs from July to October–Miedema Bros. will cut 3,000 bunches per day. Each bunch contains 10 stalks, and the flowers are harvested before the buds open. The flowers are shipped to distributors in Chicago, St. Louis, Milwaukee and Dayton, Ohio.
Locally grown glads are sold at Bloomingfields Florist in Orland Park. “We tend to use them in baskets for weddings, showers, funerals,” said employee Roselle Hortin. “They look good in the really big displays.”
Glads, however, are not very popular for everyday display, according to local florists. The flowers are considered a little old-fashioned, and they require constant attention and large, deep vases, quite unlike the hardy grocery store-bought bouquets that can be dunked into a carafe or other handy container and forgotten.
That trend has filtered down to the gladiolus business in the Momence area, but the festival goes on. “When we first started, it was a small, family deal,” Miedema said. “Whole families were out harvesting the flowers. But a lot of people retired, and it’s affected not only the business but also the festival. There are fewer growers involved, and hardly any of them enter floats in the parade.
“But the town still goes all out for it,” he said.
According to Parish, the festival is on its third generation of fans. Women who were elected festival queen are entering their daughters, and this year’s princess is the granddaughter of one of the parade founders. And, no matter that the flower show is smaller and the parade features fewer drum and bugle corps, Parish is sure the festival will continue.
“I’m not worried,” she said. “We still get more people to come out to vote for the festival queen than we can get to come out for a bond issue.”
