ANOTHER ART OF COMMUNICATION

Last week we turned our thoughts to written communication; this week, to oral communication.

How often do we take or make time to converse with someone? To have an indepth conversation about a specific topic. Or a rambling talk about this and that. Something more than a “How’s it going? Good. Yeah, things are okay with me, too. See ya” kind of chat. People who lived a century ago would not have been satisfied with that kind of exchange, for conversation was not only a way to communicate; it was a source of entertainment in their world void of radio and television.

Abram Bullis, Nettie’s father, must have been an avid conversationalist. Once his wife Josephine sent Abram to town to buy kerosene. He started talking to people downtown and returned home empty handed. Josephine sent him back and he again returned without the kerosene. He had gotten involved a second time in talking to people and forgotten his task! Now that is true conversation; being so caught up in talking, listening, and thinking about what was said that you put all other thoughts completely out of your mind.

Where did Nettie’s father get this gift of gab? Perhaps it was an inherited trait. Or perhaps he was motivated by books he had read. We’ve found two books on the shelves here in the Bullis Room on that topic. First, there’s THE ART OF EXTEMPORE SPEAKING: hints for the pulpit, the senate and the bar by Louis Bautain. It was published in 1898 and Abram may have purchased and read it. The other book, author William Elder’s PERISCOPICS: or, Current subjects extemporaneously treated, was published in 1854 and has a sticker on the inside front cover that reads, “Library of Abram R. Bullis.” When he read this collection of articles, we surmise that he paid special attention to a section that describes Frederick Douglas’s great speaking skills and took note of Mr. Douglas’s methods.

We’re adding both of these books to our reading list. Perhaps they will motivate us to take time for a real conversation now and then. They are on shelves W-1 and G-3, respectively.

CHARLES ROGERS BULLIS

In March we honored Nettie Bullis on her birthday. Now, as crocuses show their colorful faces and daffodil shoots poke through April's warming soil, our attention appropriately turns to her only sibling, Charlie, and his horticultural achievements.

He was Abraham and Josephine's eldest child, born October 13, 1891. After finishing high school at Macedon Union School, Charlie briefly taught at District #2 school in Walworth, New York. In 1913 he applied and passed the entrance exam to Cornell University but never attended the school. Following service in World War I, he devoted himself to projects conducted in and on the family's Canandaigua Road property.

His horticulture interest evidently stemmed from both genetic and environmental factors, according to Elizabeth Ferrari's 1984 account in THE BULLIS FAMILY OF MACEDON, NEW YORK:

Abraham's wife, Josephine, was a very fine lady. Her home was always
spotless and her yards filled with beautifully kept flower gardens of
tulips, daffodils, irises, and lilacs. These gardens were begun by
her husband.

Ferrari also notes that Charlie was a highly intelligent man who thought differently than others. He had a variety of interests and would start projects that he soon lost interest in, such as his flying glider invention that he abandoned "before he could put the feathers on it!" However, he never lost interest in breeding his flowers and plants.

Through years of experimenting, Charlie bred many of his own hybrid plants. He developed a hybrid corn that interested American Can Company, collected sweet corn from Indian tribes all over the world, and bred a corn kernel one inch in diameter. As a result, Cornell University asked him to help them with the breeding of corn. He pursued these horticultural projects over many years, but did not follow through on either American Can or Cornell's proposals.

Although Charlie did not earn a higher-level educational degree, he became a renowned botanist by extensive self-study (reading the vast choice of books and materials in the family library) and through experimentation. His expertise was greatly respected and other botanists throughout North America sought his advice. His urge to share knowledge with others is evident in his contributions to horticulture bulletins and journals. One of these papers was respectfully referred to by a Canadian forest-tree geneticist.

A favorite story of Charlie-admirers centers around a horticultural manuscript that he needed typed in order to submit it for publication. He found a neighbor who was willing to do the work and paid for that clerical work with some of his prized tulip bulbs. (He was a staunch believer in bartering.) Other examples of his New England thriftiness, as well as the high value others put on his horticulture achievements, regularly occurred in Charlie's lifetime.

Charlie's only apparent extravagance was in producing the beautiful, showy flowers that brought pleasure to everyone who saw them. Local residents today still speak of driving by the Bullis house when he was alive and admiring the sea of red poppies and yellow daffodils.

Charlie Bullis died in the springtime on May 13, 1974, when all his flowers were blooming.