Len Servinski remembers his father Jim’s examples of integrity

(Len Servinski’s story began on Sept. 6 and concludes today.)
By 1894, Len Servinski’s great-grandparents on his mother’s side, Andrew and Caroline Bartos, had carved a farm out of the wilderness that stretched out on both sides of Old State Road (now Jefferson). They planted crops. Raised livestock. Walked every Sunday morning to St. Brigid’s Catholic Church in Midland, a distance of four miles there and four miles back.
In 1977, their great-grandson, Len Servinski, purchased 80 acres of wooded land on Eastman Road. The wooded area was soon turned into lots filled with new homes. A sandhill covered with scrub brush and one maple tree became the site of a new nursery to be called Maple Hill Nursery. Hard work and dogged determination transformed that sandhill into 12 acres of commercial property. Family roots run deep.
Len Servinski remembers his father James Servinski as the sort of father every boy should have. Hard-working. Honest to a fault. Looking to the future that was in store for farmers. Strong in his Catholic faith. James Servinski passed the best of his traits on to the four sons who would carry on the Servinski name.
James Servinski came to America in 1914 with his mother Mary Otrimbjak Servinski, joining James’s father Ignace, who had already emigrated. In 1922, the Servinski family moved to the Wenzel farm in Larkin Township to make their home. James, or Jim, married Anna Skalnikan in 1935. In 1939, Jim’s mom Anna died, falling down the basement stairs and suffering a concussion. Jim’s dad Ignace sold the farm to Jim and Anna, moving to Linwood to be near a daughter who lived there. Jim and Anna had four sons. In 1940, John was born. Len followed in 1942. Joseph came along in 1945 and Bernard was born in 1954.
Remembering his dad, Len tells of the integrity his father had in small and large situations. Once, stopping at the Siebert Grocery on the corner of Monroe and Waldo to buy a loaf of bread, Jim discovered he had left his billfold at home. The bread cost 20 cents plus one cent for tax. He told Art Siebert, the store owner, to put the bread back and he would come back with the 21 cents. Art, knowing Jim, told him to take the bread and pay for it later. But Jim was adamant. He wouldn’t take the bread until he had the 21 cents to pay for it.
Jim Servinski’s philosophy was like a thread running through his entire life, and it was imparted to his four sons, a piece at a time. Once, while having supper, Jim said, “If we want to eat at this table, we all have to work.” Another time, he said, “If you watch the pennies, the dollars will take care of themselves.” Len remembers when the milk check would come. Jim paid all the bills first. “My dad never owed for anything,” Len said. Milk was sold to the Michigan Milk Producers Association. A special milk house was built where the milk was cooled. The only cash money coming in would be the milk check. His dad said, “We’ve got two dollars left until the next milk check comes in two weeks.”
Unlike some people who live one life at home and another life in public, Jim applied his ethics to both. He believed in conservation and was elected to the Midland Conservation District’s board of directors and served there for 25 years. Soil erosion. Crop rotation. Underground drainage. Building ponds on farmland. Jim was a strong believer in the ability of farmers to take advantage of new developments to increase profits and improve the image of the farmer.
Jim tiled his farm, and Len remembers how he and his brothers stacked the tiles by the tool shed until their dad was ready to lay the tile in the fields. “You use cement tile in clay soil and clay tile in sandy soil,” Len said. The tile was laid in strings 50 feet apart across the entire field. Remembering what farming was like when he was growing up, Len said, “It was a simple life.”
What the family grew in the summer was what they lived on all winter. Len said, “We might put 60 bushels of potatoes away for the winter. But if a neighbor needed help, they got a bushel of potatoes. In the spring, we planted what potatoes were left for a new crop.”
Living on a farm wasn’t all work and no play. Len remembers that his dad would be asked to umpire ball games. One Sunday, Jim took Len with him to Duel, Michigan. Three stores and one bar made up the entire town. Jim gave Len a dime and Len walked over to the bar. (All the stores were closed on Sundays.) Sitting on a stool, Len asked for a Coke. The woman behind the bar asked if he would like potato chips to go with the Coke. Len said yes. After paying for the Coke and potato chips, he still had two cents left. He was the only one in the bar. Everyone else was watching the ballgame.
One year, Len’s mom, Anna, wallpapered the walls in the boys’ bedroom. The wallpaper went over lathe and plaster board. She said, “If you put holes in the wallpaper, you’ll get snow coming in through the holes.” Len said, “We knew enough not to put holes in the wallpaper.”
Len and his brothers attended the Waldo School, where 62 kids were taught by one teacher. “She was the final authority. Time out was having to go to the coat closet, where you got a few licks with a strap, but you never told your parents because you would get more at home. The teacher paid me 50 cents a week to start the fire every day. First the stove used wood, and then they went to coal. No thermostats.”
After graduation from Midland Senior High School on Eastlawn, Len attended Michigan State University and then served in the military. He met his wife Jane Jeroue when she was clerking at the Western Auto Store on Main Street. Len said, “Our parents knew each other.”
Len and Jane were married at Blessed Sacrament in 1965. Len worked at The Dow Chemical Company until 1974, then went into business with his brother Joe and had Servinski Sod Service. Len finally sold out his half to Joe and bought Lapelle’s Flowers, but by 1977, he had made his mind up to start a new nursery. He bought 80 acres on Eastman Road, mostly woods. Surveying his purchase, he wondered what he was going to do to actually get a new nursery going. He needed capital.
Why not put a road in and parcel lots off to people wanting to build their own home? He did that, ending up with the capital necessary to begin the Maple Hill Nursery. He said, “It was a sandhill filled with brush and one maple tree.” Later, the maple tree was struck by lightning, but by then the business was thriving. Opening in 1978, word of mouth and prime nursery stock drew customers out Eastman Road, making the new nursery a success. The original sandhill has become 12 acres of commercial property. Len said, “We built everything ourselves.”
Len and Jane have five children: Chuck, Mary Frances, Mike, and two adopted children from Bangalore, India – Katy and Andy. Katy was 3 years old and Andy was 15 months old when they were adopted.T
That little boy who walked through a cornfield to buy a nickel candy bar, grew up. He worked at The Dow Chemical Company. He and his brother Joe owned Servinski Sod Service together for a few years. Then Len purchased Lapelle’s Flower Shop. But 80 acres of land on Eastman Road beckoned to him, and in 1977 he owned that 80 acres.
The desire to own land was part of Len Servinski’s heritage. His ancestors had left their village, their country, crossed the Atlantic Ocean and come to America. A man could own land in America. Farm the land. Raise a family. It’s a heritage that Len Servinski will always be proud of. And will always be a part of.