For some the impact is minor, such as implementing a production idea that Parkerson originally conceived. For others, it is more direct, such as benefiting from his almost unlimited generosity during times of need. It's not rare for him to send a crew hundreds of miles to help a nursery after a natural disaster -- whether the nursery is a competitor or not.

For his many contributions and for being an outspoken leader in the industry, Parkerson was named 2002 NMPRO Nursery Grower of the Year.

Not growing up in a nursery family, Parkerson hasn't been burdened with preconceived ideas of how production is supposed to be done. Because of this, he's open to trying radical ideas. He's been called crazy by more-experienced growers, but Parkerson's experimentation has helped lead to the nationwide acceptance of such practices as pot-in-pot production, direct sticking and "structureless greenhouses."

Parkerson also actively participates in industry groups, including the American Nursery & Landscape Association, International Plant Propagators' Society, Southern Nursery Association and other regional, state and local associations. At gatherings he's never afraid to speak his mind, and is often the one who asks questions everyone else is afraid to bring up. He's notoriously blunt and forthright, but this approach brings problems into the open so they can be addressed.

Speaking out

"If I were a kid today, they'd be packing me full of Ritalin. Man, they'd have me comatose," said Parkerson, who was born Dec. 14, 1945. "Once people started talking about attention-deficit disorder, I read about it and said, 'Hey, that's me.' I'm still hyper. Anybody who's ever met me can tell you that."

Parkerson enrolled at Virginia Tech University, and originally considered a medical career. However, a learning disorder related to his hyperactivity made medical courses difficult. He enrolled in an introductory horticulture class, and enjoyed the topic. But he soon found himself behind the other students.

"There were about 11 undergraduate horticulture students there at the time, and they all grew up in the business. Either their daddy or uncle had a nursery," Parkerson said. "I didn't know a rose from a petunia. I grew up on a lot in Portsmouth, Va., that didn't have a tree or shrub on it. Maybe Mom bought a poinsettia at Christmas, and that was it."

To gain experience, Parkerson was encouraged to enroll in a co-op program in which he would alternate semesters working at a nursery and attending classes. In 1965, he was hired by Art Lancaster, owner of Coleman Nursery in Portsmouth, primarily a retail company with a 10-acre production facility and a landscape division.

Lancaster had no children of his own, and Parkerson soon grew on him. He had him move into a guesthouse on the facility, where Parkerson lived until he married Margaret Bourne Lawrence in 1968.

"Mr. Lancaster was like a father. Any time I needed help or advice, he was there. I still have dinner with his widow Millie every Wednesday," Parkerson said.

Nearing graduation in 1969, Lancaster traveled the country visiting potential employers. They were primarily chemical companies, which were actively recruiting horticulture graduates at the time.

"I had always intended on returning, but I knew I had to get away for a period. Mr. Lancaster always called me Charlie Boy, and I thought the only way to get out from under that was to work somewhere else for a while.

"One day he called me and asked what it would take for me to stay. I told him, 'Sell me your wholesale division,' and at first he said that wasn't going to happen. Then he called me back and said, 'Let's talk.'"

On his own

Parkerson stayed put. The division was sold to him and a partner, Bob Bock, who sold his shares of the company 15 years ago. Part of the deal was for Lancaster Farms to help pay for the infrastructure of the facility by selling Coleman Nursery gallon plants for 25 cents each for two years. This was cheap, even for 1969.

"After two years, I said, 'I can't afford to charge you that anymore, and hiked the price up to something like 60 cents,'" Parkerson said. "He opened Bennetts Creek Nursery across the street that afternoon.

"Next, I started making payments for the land. And every time I sent a check, boom, they'd build something at Bennetts Creek. So I joke that I actually built two nurseries."

But until his death, Lancaster remained a close friend and supporter of Parkerson.

"I remember one night we had a driver get into an accident. Mr. Lancaster was here at 7 a.m. with a truck. He said, 'I'm going to go get him.' He picked up the driver, unloaded the truck and made the delivery to my customer."

Growth at Lancaster Farms was slow. His first customer was Sears Roebuck and Co., "because I knew they wouldn't go bankrupt," Parkerson said.

But Parkerson soon began turning his attention to independent garden center customers. When Sears decided to phase out plant sales, Parkerson started selling exclusively to independents.

"I'll sell to multi-outlet places, like Pike Nurseries in Georgia, but not to a mass merchant," Parkerson said. "I can go and shake Mr. Pike's hand, but I can't go shake Mr. Home Depot's hand."

New ideas

One of Parkerson's first radical ideas was moving away from gallon production to larger containers. At the time, the theory was that the only way to make a profit was with smaller containers, which would maximize units produced per acre.

"I started growing in 3s and people said I was crazy. They said that economically you got more money with gallon plants. But what they weren't factoring in was how many times those gallons had to be handled."

In about 1975, Parkerson also became one of the first nurseries to begin direct sticking cuttings and liners into 3-gallon containers, bypassing many transplant stages.

"I was told you can't do that either. You have to go from a tray to a 2 1/4-inch pot to a 3 to a 7," Parkerson said. "But I wasn't in a vacuum with this idea. Others were starting to do direct sticking at the same time like Flowerwood Nursery [in Loxley, Ala.] and Wight Nursery [in Cairo, Ga.]."

Probably the biggest disaster the nursery has faced was a major freeze on Jan. 20, 1977, which killed many of the nursery's container plants. This event led to Parkerson thinking about overwintering more seriously, and the development of what he considers his biggest contribution to the industry.

"An option was plastic greenhouses, but in those days polyethylene was like a bread package. You'd cover 10 houses on Tuesday, it would blow off and you'd cover them again on Wednesday.

"Then I started wondering about the actual greenhouse structure. What's all that wood and pipe really doing for me? You need the plants in there around Thanksgiving, and they need a little water, but you're hardly in there. All you need to do is trap a little heat."

'Structureless greenhouse'

Parkerson's idea was to eliminate the structure and pull the plastic directly over the plants. Over the years the process has been tweaked, but the same general idea is now used to overwinter about 40 acres of container crops.

From late November to mid-December, white poly covered with shade cloth is pulled over the crops. The shade cloth's primary function is to help keep the poly pinned down. A few holes are also punched into the plastic for ventilation, and the plants remain covered until about the first of March.

Keys to success of the process are that plants need to be irrigated completely and treated with a fungicide and a dormant oil before being covered. This prevents drying out and disease and insect problems.

"I see this system used everywhere -- in the Pacific Northwest, Texas, Georgia, Alabama, all over the place," Parkerson said. "I don't want any credit for it, but I do feel some pride when I see it in use at other facilities.

"It's effective, but it doesn't work for everything. It won't work with azaleas, so don't even try it. They're just too brittle."

The birth of PNP

Pot-in-pot (PNP) production is the fastest-growing production system in the country. A recent NMPRO survey showed that 19 percent of readers are using the system while almost 50 percent are considering it.

With PNP, a socket pot is buried in the ground, and another production pot is nested inside it. While a few researchers had anecdotally tried the system in the past, Parkerson became the first grower to try pot-in-pot on a commercial basis about 1985.

"I was looking for a way to market shade trees in summer between balled-and-burlapped seasons," Parkerson said. "I wanted a product retailers could sell for $100, and I could sell to them for $50. That way I make a profit, the retailer makes a profit and the consumer gets good value."

Parkerson had five criteria for a new production system. It would:

1. Lend itself to trickle irrigation.

2. Eliminate tree blow over.

3. Require no special equipment not already in use at the nursery.

4. Require no extensive market education to sell it.

5. Provide winter protection.

A trellis system was nearly a winner. It met all the criteria except for winter protection.

"As far as No. 4 goes, we'd tried some other things like grow bags and the pancake tree idea from Virginia Tech where the containers are only a few inches deep, but several feet across. While these ideas worked, we found ourselves spending too much time having to explain them to customers. The concepts were just too hard for them to accept."

PNP production got a test the first year Parkerson tried it. That year the area had a record cold -- the first time the region had ever reached below 0F. "We tried Foster hollies first, a plant that is normally sensitive to cold damage. But even with the hard freeze we had no damage whatsoever. We've found that if a plant can survive your winter in the ground, it can survive it in pot in pot."

The biggest advantage PNP provides that Parkerson didn't count on was root cooling in summer.

"With criteria No. 5, I actually should have asked for root-temperature moderation, because summer heat in container production is crippling to roots, I don't care who you are."

Some wrong turns

Of course, not all of Parkerson's ideas have been implemented. Some, as it turns out, actually were crazy. One alternative method to PNP he came up with was a large hole with a cap that could be used to produce anything from a 3-gallon to 25-gallon plants. While the system could work, it's too impractical.

But making mistakes is always a risk when you take chances. As an industry, we're fortunate Parkerson has risked failure his entire career.

- Todd Davis