URBAN GARDEN PROFILE: Jose Rodriguez

Jose Rodriguez keeps a plot of land in the south Bronx near an overpass. There's a  wave of vehicles rushing past - the traffic streams by with the sound of  a constant wind. The garden is dry - Jose explains that this was the driest season he has ever seen. "I think they broke something in the sky." Jose has a wry grin on his face - his eyes are mischievous. The Bronx farmer harvests white beans, peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes., melon, squash, eggplant and pumpkins here. "People don't believe I have a garden here in the Bronx - but they gave me a permit and I built this house" He waves at a small gazebo. " I built this the way they wanted it.. They wanted to be able to see inside from the outside."




Rodriguez has an economy of words that he spends generously with me. I get the feeling he only speaks when  required. He tells me of the rescued cats that have lived in the garden and how the current cat was very skinny when it first came. "This woman dropped him off and he was too skinny I thought he might die." The scrawny calico is friendly and while thin looks healthy enough. The cat joins us as Jose shows me around the garden lifting leaves with a stick to see the fruit of his labor. "Many other gardens have more people working on them but I am too greedy I wanted this all to myself. But I give away all this vegetables."

He chats with me about his life how he came to New York as a child from Puerto Rico. He shows me old newspaper clippings of him as a boxer as a young man. "This is me in the boys club" Jose says proudly. He looks fierce in the photos. Other clippings show him as a robust twenty something fighting in the meadow lands in the golden gloves. The name below the photos is Joe Rodriguez.  Jose is not boastful - he is even tempered and speaks matter of factly. "When I was a young man I would earn 40$ a week. When I retired I would earn over 40$ an hour but the money went farther when it was only 40$ a week. It cost me money to have this garden. I do this to fill my time up and get out of the house."

I caught up with Jose another day when he had some friends over in the garden. A 50's something postman was sitting with him and another friend somewhere near his age of 70 years or so. I showed them the pictures of Jose... they smiled. I asked if they had seen his boxing pictures. "Yeah we have seen those pictures of his days fighting." Jose still is a fighter - the drought of this past summer was hard on his vegetables but the man remains undaunted.