Hello! My name is Cory Frederick, and I grew up on this land. Since I was a little kid, I've dreamed of creating something special out here, and Monarch Park has been decades in the making.
In 1991, when I was eleven years old, my mom, tired of the confines of renting, found these five acres of heaven for sale in rural Albany, Ohio. We knew the sellers of the land. Chuck and Evelyn Jeffers owned several prominent businesses in the area, one of which was C&E Grocery Store. Mom and I lived across the street from it when we were renting - for the last time - a home on Richland Avenue. That's how she found out they had land for sale; there happened to be an ad for it posted on the bulletin board at the store one day when she did her shopping.
We toured every inch of the rolling acreage before she put in her offer, awed at the prospect of owning a piece of land like this.
It was early springtime, and I remember my first ride on these winding, and at the time, mostly pea gravel roads. Fisher. Ladd Ridge. Sandusky. The early morning frost, kissed by the sun, glistened on the grasses and brush alongside the road. Couldn't you just smell the crisp, county living in the air? This beautiful land Chuck and Evelyn were selling was part of an old cow pasture they no longer wanted to farm; about half field and half forest, it has a little creek in the holler (if you're from rural Appalachia, you likely know what a holler is. And if you don't yet, I invite you to come take a stroll through ours). My mom and I (and eventually my grandmother, too) fell in love with this piece of paradise the moment we stepped out of the car and our feet touched the ground.
Clay, shale, sandstone, limestone. Black walnut, poplar, sycamore, and sumac. Bergamot and milkweed. Blackberries, pawpaws, morels, and more!
What's not to love?
Several decades later, I found myself married and living in Columbus, Ohio, and when our first daughter was born too soon, her passing left a crater in my heart. I spent many days on this land crying into the clay, wishing I could look up and see her playing among the poplar trees, chasing butterflies, laughing and smacking on the freshly picked blackberries. Instead, the field was quiet, and the trees were still.
How could I find my joy again?
Magically, as many of us who have lost babies do, I found my joy. When my second daughter was born, my heart was again filled with the familiar joy of promise and of hope. Of renewal and of the journey of life - even with all it's trials and tribulations.
Now, as a family, we try to spend as much time together down here as we can. It's our escape from the beat of the city. It's rich with life and bounty and full of all our hopes and dreams. It is me coming full-circle from childhood to adulthood to parenthood. Just like the butterflies emerging from their chrysalis, we carry on, we fly.
In 2019, I established this land as a nationally certified Monarch butterfly way station and dedicated it to my angel baby. We named it Monarch Park, and we're making a concerted effort to restore and nurture Ohio's native wildflowers, prairie grasses, and trees. It takes a lot of work to rid the land of several invasive plant species including Autumn Olive, Russian Olive, and Multiflora Rose. Every penny we earn from our Park Mart, vacation rentals, and special events goes towards the sustainable development and management of the Park. Even if you're not a guest of the Park, you can contribute to our growth by sponsoring a tree or by becoming a Friend of the Park.
In 1991, when I was eleven years old, my mom, tired of the confines of renting, found these five acres of heaven for sale in rural Albany, Ohio. We knew the sellers of the land. Chuck and Evelyn Jeffers owned several prominent businesses in the area, one of which was C&E Grocery Store. Mom and I lived across the street from it when we were renting - for the last time - a home on Richland Avenue. That's how she found out they had land for sale; there happened to be an ad for it posted on the bulletin board at the store one day when she did her shopping.
We toured every inch of the rolling acreage before she put in her offer, awed at the prospect of owning a piece of land like this.
It was early springtime, and I remember my first ride on these winding, and at the time, mostly pea gravel roads. Fisher. Ladd Ridge. Sandusky. The early morning frost, kissed by the sun, glistened on the grasses and brush alongside the road. Couldn't you just smell the crisp, county living in the air? This beautiful land Chuck and Evelyn were selling was part of an old cow pasture they no longer wanted to farm; about half field and half forest, it has a little creek in the holler (if you're from rural Appalachia, you likely know what a holler is. And if you don't yet, I invite you to come take a stroll through ours). My mom and I (and eventually my grandmother, too) fell in love with this piece of paradise the moment we stepped out of the car and our feet touched the ground.
Clay, shale, sandstone, limestone. Black walnut, poplar, sycamore, and sumac. Bergamot and milkweed. Blackberries, pawpaws, morels, and more!
What's not to love?
Several decades later, I found myself married and living in Columbus, Ohio, and when our first daughter was born too soon, her passing left a crater in my heart. I spent many days on this land crying into the clay, wishing I could look up and see her playing among the poplar trees, chasing butterflies, laughing and smacking on the freshly picked blackberries. Instead, the field was quiet, and the trees were still.
How could I find my joy again?
Magically, as many of us who have lost babies do, I found my joy. When my second daughter was born, my heart was again filled with the familiar joy of promise and of hope. Of renewal and of the journey of life - even with all it's trials and tribulations.
Now, as a family, we try to spend as much time together down here as we can. It's our escape from the beat of the city. It's rich with life and bounty and full of all our hopes and dreams. It is me coming full-circle from childhood to adulthood to parenthood. Just like the butterflies emerging from their chrysalis, we carry on, we fly.
In 2019, I established this land as a nationally certified Monarch butterfly way station and dedicated it to my angel baby. We named it Monarch Park, and we're making a concerted effort to restore and nurture Ohio's native wildflowers, prairie grasses, and trees. It takes a lot of work to rid the land of several invasive plant species including Autumn Olive, Russian Olive, and Multiflora Rose. Every penny we earn from our Park Mart, vacation rentals, and special events goes towards the sustainable development and management of the Park. Even if you're not a guest of the Park, you can contribute to our growth by sponsoring a tree or by becoming a Friend of the Park.
what is a Monarch butterfly way station?
A Monarch butterfly way station is a designated area that provides a suitable habitat for Monarch butterflies during their annual migration. These way stations are typically created by regular folks like you, schools, community groups, or public institutions who are committed to conserving Monarch butterflies and their habitats, which can be as large or as small as you can imagine!
The purpose of a way station is to provide necessary resources for Monarchs, such as nectar sources from native wildflowers like the milkweed species, which are essential for their survival. Way stations also serve as resting and breeding areas for Monarchs during their long journey. By establishing Monarch butterfly way stations, we can contribute to the conservation efforts and help support the declining population of Monarch butterflies.
If you are interested in creating a Monarch butterfly way station, the Monarch Watch website provides helpful resources and guidelines to assist you in designing and maintaining a suitable habitat for these beautiful creatures.
A Monarch butterfly way station is a designated area that provides a suitable habitat for Monarch butterflies during their annual migration. These way stations are typically created by regular folks like you, schools, community groups, or public institutions who are committed to conserving Monarch butterflies and their habitats, which can be as large or as small as you can imagine!
The purpose of a way station is to provide necessary resources for Monarchs, such as nectar sources from native wildflowers like the milkweed species, which are essential for their survival. Way stations also serve as resting and breeding areas for Monarchs during their long journey. By establishing Monarch butterfly way stations, we can contribute to the conservation efforts and help support the declining population of Monarch butterflies.
If you are interested in creating a Monarch butterfly way station, the Monarch Watch website provides helpful resources and guidelines to assist you in designing and maintaining a suitable habitat for these beautiful creatures.