October 1935

The Darling Dahlias Clubhouse and Gardens

302 Camellia Street

Darling, Alabama

Dear Reader,

We realize that this book comes hot on the heels of our latest book about the Voodoo Lily. But things have been a little heated around Darling in the past few months and it seems like there’s a lot to tell. Mrs. Albert invited us to sit down, take deep breaths, and try to put it all together for you so we wouldn’t forget what happened, which was altogether quite remarkable and which got connected to an even more remarkable happening over in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

It started with a little bonfire and went on to bigger and more spectacular blazes, while the citizens of our little town slept with one eye open and kept glancing over their shoulders and got more and more scared and suspicious as the weeks went by. Of course, it didn’t help that the Hot Dog fire chief election went off the rails the way it did, and that somebody got elected who didn’t have the least idea in his head of how to put out a fire and didn’t care to learn. There was an arsonist in our little town, bound, bent, and determined to burn us down to the ground. It was the only thing we talked about. It was the only thing we thought about.

Well, except for the exciting news about Senator Huey P. Long making a campaign stop in Darling, which isn’t something that happens every day of the week.

Or the heartwarming news that the Magnolia ladies’ corner garden of red hot pokers, sunny orange dahlias, hot pink cosmos, fire-red salvia, and artemisia won the August garden prize.

Or—when we found out about it later—the shocking news about Mr. Ryan Nichols. But the least said about that, the better, for even though he was a Yankee, one or two of us were really quite smitten.

And then, of course, there was . . . but Mrs. Albert thinks we should save that for our story, so we’ll just leave it there.

As you may know, we like to name our books after a plant that seems to . . . well, carry the message, so to speak. Sometimes that’s a challenge, but with this book, we knew right away that we wanted to call it The Darling Dahlias and the Red Hot Poker. Of course, Miss Rogers (our Darling librarian) strongly suggested The Darling Dahlias and the Kniphofia Uvaria, but we were afraid it missed the point. We’re told that red hot pokers come from South Africa, but they’re right at home in Darling gardens. We’re sure they’ll be at home in yours, too—as long as their feet don’t get wet, which puts their fire out, so to speak.

As you know if you’ve been reading our books, the Dahlias are a garden club and our members believe in the power of gardens to keep us steady and give us hope in difficult times. Times like now, for instance, when this Great Depression—like the War to End All Wars and the terrible flu pandemic of 1918, which killed so many people—is still causing so much trouble for so many. Our big vegetable garden feeds lots of Darling folk who are down on their luck, and the flower gardens we tend around town remind us that natural beauty is a balm for the spirit. We’re sure you’ll agree that without these, life would be pretty ugly and grim, especially when somebody you know decides to start burning down your town.

Thank you for reading our book. Thank you, too, for the cards and letters and the packets of garden seed and the recipes you’ve been sending. We share them with our Darling friends, who appreciate them as much as we do.

Sincerely,

The Darling Dahlias