A few years back I drove a few counties south to visit a friend who was serious about hybridizing daylilies. When I say “serious,” he was in the upper echelon of daylily breeders nationally. From him I learned about the competitiveness of folks who take to the daylily hobby with fulltime retirement gusto. 

While they enjoy creating pretty daylily varieties, the real goal is to come up with something so different from anything already out there it leaves fellow gung ho breeders in awe. 

When and if such a cross-pollination newbie is developed, the hybridizer often keeps it under wraps for a few years. It isn’t immediately named or registered with the American Hemerocallis Society, the official daylily group. 

The proud owner wants to multiply the single plant to have a few for sale when the daylily world finds out about it and its parentage. With daylilies anybody can make the same genetic cross as someone else. The only thing that cannot be copied is the registered name. Within daylily breeding, the odds of getting the exact same look by repeating the same cross are low, but somebody might get close enough to cut into recognition and sales.

My friend showed me a new creation of his that was in that “under wraps for now” stage and only he and his son had the records of the pollination cross used. 

It was different from any daylily I had seen, but I was strictly amateur.  The colors were a combo of a dull, olive drab green with shades of gray.  It was not gorgeous, but remember the aim is for something heretofore unseen. I started to suggest names, but politely minded my own business. My silent name ideas were either “Deer Camp” or “Camo.”

A few years earlier I had met a hobby rose breeder, Bill Radler. He was director of the public botanical garden at Milwaukee, Wisconsin and toyed with roses at home. 

I was the horticulture committee member charged with putting on a study tour at our national convention even though I had never been to Wisconsin. That was back when I was totally rose-ignorant. 

The next year I mail-ordered a yellow rose that was advertised as so tough and easy to grow it was named Carefree Sunshine by its breeder, Bill Radler of Wisconsin. Come to find out, Mr. Radler had released another creation a couple of years earlier that he named “Knockout.”  He eventually chose to use “Knockout” in the names of all his new creations after the first one sold seven million plants. 

I don’t know what the sales total of all the Knockouts are, but he does get a patent royalty fee for each sale plus whatever deal he has with Star Roses, the company he authorizes to propagate and market his varieties. 

In Wisconsin, hobby rose breeder Radler is now known for his philanthropy as well as for his roses. I read recently one of his numerous donation checks was for an even million bucks.  He’s my hobby hero.

Terry Rector is spokesman for the Warren County Soil and Water Conservation District.