When Prosper Berckmans came to Georgia in 1850, he was simply looking for a place to grow fruit trees. He grew up in Belgium under the tutelage of his father, a physician by trade and an avid botanist in his own right. Together they tended the orchard on their small farmstead that supplied their kitchen table with the delectable tastes of peach, pear, and plum delicacies.

At an early age, the work of the orchard got into his blood.

After completing his university studies in horticulture in France, at the age of 19, he boarded a ship for America in search of a place to build a nursery. He found solace among several of the established communities of Belgian immigrants in Georgia. One in Habersham County and another in Rome. But the winters and the rocky soils of the upper piedmont were not suitable for his demands.

The following year, his father came to America and settled in New Jersey. He called for Prosper to join him in the establishment of a fruit nursery there, which he did. But he could never quite get Georgia off his mind. So in 1857, Prosper left the work with his father to return to Georgia.

This time he landed in Augusta where he bought 145 acres south of Washington Road, just NE of town. He became quick friends with Dennis Redmond, his neighbor across the road, who owned and operated a fruit orchard of more than 300 acres. Redmond, an immigrant from Ireland, named his orchard Fruitland and built his home on a prominent hill overlooking the surrounding valley.

When the elder Berckmans visited his son in Augusta, he saw right off why his son was so fond of the location. He approached Redmond, and in 1858, he bought the land, combined it with the orchard his son had built, and named it Fruitland Nurseries.

When Prosper took over the operation of the farm, it was little more than dirt roads and fruit trees. He saw in the barren hillsides an opportunity to turn the land into a showcase for the plants he had always dreamed of growing. Not just peaches and plums, but Magnolias, azaleas, and hollies. In a move that seemed insignificant at the time, he planted more than 60 Magnolias along either side of the narrow dirt drive up to the house from Washington Road.

For the next 50 years, the Prosper J.A. Berckmans Company, operating as Fruitland Nurseries, became one of the premier horticultural institutions in the world. Consider this. When the Berckmans began operations, there was an estimated 100,000 peach trees in Georgia, most of which were seedlings planted on family farms. Fifty years later, Georgia would boast of cultivated peach orchards totaling more than 3 million trees, all as a direct influence of Fruitland Nurseries.

The next time you bite into a ripe Elberta peach, the juice running down your chin, you can thank Prosper Berckmans.

Well, ghee whiz. So what? Bear with me for a minute.

When Fruitland closed in 1918 after the death of its famed leader, the nursery sat idle for a number of years. The fields became overgrown. The land abandoned. The manor house sat in disrepair. The only remarkable sign that remained was the shaded dirt lane where the Magnolias had begun to reach out and arch overhead.

Over the next few years the land passed through the hands of several investors. There was talk of bulldozing the trees, getting rid of the magnolias and azaleas to build a resort. Thankfully, those plans fell silent. Fruitland Nursery ended up in the hands of a local bank and trust company who sat on it until 1931.

Enter Bobby Jones.

1930 happened to be the year that amateur golf legend, Bobby Jones, retired. Born in Atlanta, Bobby made his living as a lawyer while playing the game he loved as an amateur. In his final year, he won all four major tournaments of his era, both the Open and Amateur Championships in the US and the UK. Over just a seven year career he competed in 31 majors, winning 13 times and placing in the top ten 27 times.

His love of the game led him to look for a place to build the golf course of his dreams. He had played on some of the finest courses in the world, and he wanted to bring that experience back home. Through an investor friend of his, he learned of a piece of property in Augusta, Georgia. A sprawling 365 acre abandoned nursery set among the rolling hills, with a house suitable for restoration.

When Bobby Jones first rode up the dirt lane beneath the Magnolia trees, he knew he had found the perfect place for his golf course. He bought it on the spot and set in motion a plan that would revolutionize the world of golf forever.

He called on the expertise of his friend, architect Alister MacKenzie, who had designed several of Jones’s favorite courses, including Pebble Beach. He invited MacKenzie to Augusta to walk the property with him. From that moment, the dream began to take shape. And from the ashes of Fruitland Nurseries rose one of the best known golf courses in the world.

I am not a huge golf fan. I have only played at golf a handful of times in my life. I have always said that my worst day of fishing is better than my best day of golf. I am far more at home on a putt-putt course than I am on any fairway.

But once a year, I take an interest in the Masters. Partly because I have some appreciation for the history of the place, and being a nurseryman myself, I find it interesting how those incredible fairways and greens were once home to the breeding, budding, and grafting of plants that were shipped around the world. Many of the trees and flowering azaleas that we associate with the Masters owe their heritage to Fruitland Nurseries.

I watched the entire tournament this past weekend. I don’t think I’ve ever watched so much golf in my life. But I’ve been home with Marion while she’s recuperating from her surgery. The game gave us something to do.

I was also pulling for Rory to repeat and get his second green jacket. He may not be a Bobby Jones, who some say was the greatest ever to play the game, but I find him likeable.

When he came into the clubhouse to receive his green jacket on Sunday, I wondered if he knew of his fellow Irishman who built that house in 1854. A nod to the sometimes serendipitous circle of life. When he rode through Magnolia Lane, did he have any idea that an aspiring nurseryman from Belgium had planted those trees over 165 years ago?

No doubt he knew that Bobby Jones had built the course. No question he knew he was playing in the shadow of golf legends like Nicklaus and Palmer.

One more thing. When Rory sat down for the Champions’ Dinner, the Masters’ famous Georgia peach ice cream sandwich was on the menu.

You can thank Prosper Berckmans for that.