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Unusual S. Jersey garden destroyed in storm

The garden behind the late Don LaJeunesse’s Merchantville home was ruined by Tuesday’s powerful wind and rain.

The garden behind the late Don LaJeunesse's Merchantville home was ruined by Tuesday's storm.
The garden behind the late Don LaJeunesse's Merchantville home was ruined by Tuesday's storm.Read more

FOR NEARLY two decades, the garden behind Don LaJeunesse's Merchantville home was an organic tribute to his unique artistic skills.

LaJeunesse, a former sculpture instructor at the Art Institute of Philadelphia, was a self-described "putzer," said his wife, Patrice - he was always tinkering with the shaded area behind their home, trimming flowers and rearranging his self-made furniture.

The garden outlived its creator, who succumbed to cancer in 2010. But the gale-force winds of Tuesday's storm ended the 17-year legend of one of the Camden County town's most unusual landmarks.

Limbs from overhanging trees fell into the garden, knocking over wooden columns, overturning intricate art installations and obstructing the garden's winding paths.

"Out of respect to him, I would put the whole thing back together, if I could," Patrice LaJeunesse said last night. "He could do anything, my husband."

The garden has a deep history, rooted as much in LaJeunesse's family as it is with their close-knit block of stately Victorian homes.

Her son Jesse got married in the garden beside the pond his father dug. Longtime friends and neighbors would show up at odd hours, touting visiting relatives from Ohio, California and beyond.

"They loved coming through," LaJeunesse said. "For them, it was one of the surprises of Merchantville."

When Don was alive, the garden ebbed and flowed, reflecting the projects he was working on at the time. A wooden doorway saved from a Philadelphia Fashion Fest exhibit curated by his students took up a permanent residency.

An illuminated, 8-foot tall buffalo sculpture once grazed in the garden's corner, a souvenir from a boat parade that Don participated in.

The fixtures were only limited by Don's creative spirit, which he had no shortage of: He turned 10-foot long augers from an industrial boring machine into columns framing a bed of flowers.

Surplus statues from a closing garden-supply store stood sentry over the garden's paths, watching as the couple's many cats prowled around.

After she surveyed the ruined garden yesterday, LaJeunesse sent out a plea over social media, asking for help in at least clearing out the debris.

It gathered momentum quickly - as LaJeunesse reminisced with a reporter over the good times had in the garden, one of her husband's former students called and left a concerned message.

She has no illusions: She knows the garden will never return to its original form without her husband.

"All I want is for people to remember Don," she said. "I hope they enjoyed the garden as much as he did, as we did."