Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, August 28, 1994 TAG: 9408290014
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: Madelyn Rosenberg
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
They weighed more than two pounds apiece. They were the kind of tomatoes that would drape over the end of a sandwich, dwarfing two slices of white bread. They came in red, yellow and pink, and with them came the knowledge that my little garden would continue to produce only ... petite produce.
But hey, it's been a tough year for tomatoes. Even the winners of the "Great Tomato Contest" admitted as much as they accepted their ribbons and gift certificates this week in the shade of the nursery's back porch. Occasionally, they mentioned "The Blight."
An ear open for gardening secrets, I quizzed them about their prize crops.
Alas, these folks all come from the laissez-faire school of gardening: Not one of them did anything special.
"Just watered them," offered Bryant Altizer of Christiansburg, whose 2-pound, 91/2-ounce tomato won the contest.
"Just plant 'em and let 'em do what they'll do," said Radford's Felix Boland, who tied for second with Phyllis Hutton of Blacksburg.
Hutton nodded in agreement.
Their thumbs were flesh-colored, but I suspect somewhere underneath that outer layer of skin they were green.
Altizer wasn't even sure what variety he'd entered in the contest. On his entry form, he described it as "a two-tone, red-yellow tomato."
Boland knew exactly what he'd planted. His secret weapon was called the "Mortgage Lifter, Radiator Charlie's." This tomato was developed in the 1930s by a radiator repairman named M.C. Byles who had no formal education or plant breeding experience. Byles crossbred four large tomatoes and sold the plants for a dollar apiece in the 1940s. With the money, he eventually paid off the mortgage of his house. Fruits can average more than two pounds.
Boland's weighed 21/2.
For one brief moment, I thought about bringing a tomato over for the competition. But I grew Better Boys this year, and while they taste great, comparatively they're runts. When I weighed my largest on our office postal scale, I found I could've mailed it across town for less than $2.
I stood by the entry table last week as people lugged (lugged!) in the fruits of their harvest. I left my tomato at home.
Karen Zeigler, retail manager of the nursery, says she's seen a number of people skulking around Laurel Creek with paper bags, eyeing the competition, and then slinking away, their puny tomatoes never again to see the light of day.
Others brave souls swallowed their pride and entered anyway - "for the kids" some said.
Ronnie Holmes of Radford, who brought in a 2-pound, 2-ounce tomato, stared at the fruit of Altizer's earth. "That one's a monster," he said.
It was. One thing about big tomatoes: They're ugly.
"At least," I equivocated, "mine don't have stretch marks."
"I wish," the staff at Laurel Creek kept saying as they reminisced about past contests, "that we'd get a 3-pounder again." That's what won the competition back in '85.
"I guess that's what I'll have to shoot for next year," Altizer said.
This was, after all, a tough year for tomatoes.
Madelyn Rosenberg is the Roanoke Times & World-News' assistant New River editor.
by CNB