It's hard to accept the passing of Mel Hulse. One of my great regrets is that I only knew him for about four years, and another is that we have lost him while he still had so much to give. However, one of my great joys is how many of us had the chance to learn from this master, on-line and in person, and to have him as a friend.

Mel epitomized the phrase, "joie de vivre." He rejoiced as much in his ripe tomatoes and oranges as he did in a giant bloom of 'September Morn' or the latest software or hardware toy that he discovered. He delighted in a good drink, and a great bowl of gazpacho or French onion soup. I adored his jauntiness. The first time that I visited the Heritage with a group from the Sacramento Historic Rose Garden, there he was, waiting by the turnoff, standing next to his little red car, waving his cane in the air so that we didn't miss our turn. That was Mel, through and through.

Mel was devoted to the roses, and to the gardens and people who preserved them. He was eager to add unusual and found roses to the Heritage collection, and generously shared what he had with others. Whenever we met, we were swapping roses in a dizzying whirl of enthusiasm. He shared knowledge, too, coaching us through propagation techniques and giving us tips on how to manage a public collection.

Mel's energy seemed boundless. I had the privilege of accompanying him on two rose rustles in the Mother Lode, and he led the charge at each location. On these rustles, I learned how to spot 'Manetti,' how to appreciate noisettes and native California roses, how to take a good cutting, and how to make a 'Rosegrower' cocktail. Wonderful times. I last saw Mel at his house after his final release from the hospital, in the company of half a dozen of his rose friends, and Loan, his wife. It was a day filled with love and roses, just as he deserved.

May he rest in peace, but live on in our memories and our roses. Just as his presence was huge, so will be his absence.

Anita Clevenger, USA