There is another view of this structure here. It was probably connected to one of the city’s grand casinos.
Years later, did he go back and say, “I remember it as so much bigger. . . “?
The little boy was almost certainly the son of George Wesley Hess, who was Superintendent and then Director of the U.S. Botanic Garden from 1913 to 1934. There are more photos of the family and the Garden here.
I bless thee, Lord, because I GROW
Among thy trees, which in a ROW
To thee both fruit and order OW.
— George Herbert, from “Paradise”
The dome of the Conservatory of Flowers, Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, California, 1981, by Jet Lowe for an Historic American Buildings Survey, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
The Conservatory is the oldest public wood-and-glass conservatory in North America, opening to the public in 1879.
“Conservatory interior looking southwest,” Rockwood, near Wilmington, Delaware, 1982, by David Ames, via an Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS), Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division (all photos here).
Built between 1851 and 1854 in the Rural Gothic Revival style, the estate still exists as the Rockwood Park and Museum.
Designed for Joseph Shipley, a member of one of the leading Quaker mill-owning families in the area, Rockwood is an unusually complete and effective statement of early Victorian taste in the tradition of A.J. Downing and John Clauduius Loudon. The mansion house reflects both early Victorian romanticism and the picturesque merger of irregular architecture and naturalistic landscape. When taken in conjunction, the architecture, the plan, the garden and the remaining furnishings depict a total physical sensibility that is fast vanishing from America.
— 1986 HABS report
“Mexican ambassador Don Manuel Tellez standing amidst potted cacti in the embassy’s conservatory, Washington, D.C.,” ca. 1925, by National Photo Company, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
More winter gardens are here.
After she left he bought another cactus
just like the one she’d bought him
in the airport in Marrakesh. . .
Next week he was back for another, then another. . .
— Matthew Sweeney, from “Cacti“