KALAMAZOO, Michigan — West Michigan is looking a little less colorful Wednesday.
Family confirms Gene Rhodes, a man who brings to life a world of color every autumn, has died.
Gene owned a large farm off M-43 in Kalamazoo. According to Michigan State University, it was the largest retailer of squash and pumpkin in the state.
In October, Gene's farm is filled with bright orange pumpkins, crispy fall leaves and visitors trudging through the patch as far as the eye can see.
That's why Gene was better known as "The Pumpkin Man." We last spoke to him during his busy season in October.
“I'm just a little old pumpkin man," he laughed at the time, “and I’m just proud of that."
Gene's grandfather bought the land in '85—"that's 1885," Gene told us. It made him the third generation to farm upon its soil.
And nothing brought more joy to Gene the Pumpkin Man than the love of his land.
“This is paradise on earth," he smiled.
The farm began by selling just 500 pounds of pumpkins and squash to get by. Now, each year, when the weather turns cool and Michigan begins to gray, Gene would sell 135 tons of pumpkins—bringing to life a world of color.
The same is true inside Gene's home, a little bungalow on his property, marked by a pumpkin stained-glass window. He'd stuffed it to the brim with the color orange.
He sat at a carved pumpkin dining table, ate from pumpkin-shaped dinnerware, and seasoned his food with pumpkin salt and pepper shakers. When he was done, he would throw away his trash in a pumpkin trash can next to a wall adorned with pumpkin wallpaper.
And parked out front for all the customers to see was his crowning jewel: a bright orange Cadillac with the license plate "PUMMAN."
"I sleep between orange sheets and under a pumpkin bedspread," he'd said. "I always liked the color orange."
Every fall, thousands would descend upon Gene’s farm. They made traditions — and a new friend.
“People come here and they show me pictures they took of their kids, 10, 15, maybe 25 years ago. You can't buy those memories. Can't be done. I sell a product and give away memories," said Gene.
Gene planned year-round for autumn. And, when we spoke to him in his 88th year, he was planning for the autumn of life, too.
“As long as I can function, I'll do this. When I can't function, I’ll wish I could," he said at the time. “No family member wants anything to do with it, but I have a personal friend that does, and so when I die, he probably will take care of it.”
He told us he hoped to leave behind roots that are deep and a legacy that is simple.
“There's a sign on the barn door, a big sign, a 12-foot sign, that says, ‘Gene the Pumpkin Man’ and the man that's going to take over says that sign will stay. Now, that's getting a little humbling," he smiled.
Gene assured us he takes comfort knowing that for him, it’s not the end of the vine.
“I sincerely believe that when the heaven comes, when I get to heaven, that there will be perfect pumpkins to inspect," Gene said, smiling. “If there wasn’t any pumpkins, I'm not sure I want to go."