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ST. LOUIS — The city's North Side can be a tough place. Boarded-up buildings, overgrown lots and abandoned businesses dot the landscape.

But on a few plots in the College Hill neighborhood, between a pocket park and a row of old homes, the scene is almost bucolic: Rows of delicate lavender are blooming.

On a recent day, a group of about 12 volunteers armed with handheld scythes and rubber bands set to work harvesting the crop. Becky Shocklee, of Wildwood, was working up a sweat as she sliced the stems and their fragrant purple flowers.

"It's the right thing to do," she said.

The Seeds of Grace Lavender Farm started in 2018 as an effort to beautify the College Hill neighborhood, bound by Interstate 70 to the east, West Florissant Avenue to the west and Ferry Street.

But the flowering shrubs with their fragrant purple blooms fared so well in the hot climate and fertile soil that the group found a lucrative opportunity.

In a four-year period, Seeds of Grace quadrupled in size and has become one of the largest lavender farms in the state. Most of the crop is sold to Wright City-based Long Row Lavender to be dried and used for decoration, and this year, some fresh bundles will be sold at Dierbergs.

The farm is a breath of fresh air for a neighborhood that has long struggled with poverty, crime and blight. Proceeds from the lavender sales pay for home repairs, community programs and some part-time farm employees from the neighborhood. And leaders hope the project could be even more: an industry in a part of the city that has declined for decades. The goal is to expand and hire more residents for seasonal or even permanent jobs.

"I want to grow this, I want to double the size — if not triple," said Fred Kimbrough, executive director of the nonprofit College Hill Foundation, which runs the farm. "But our biggest issue is figuring out who can take it on."

In the late 1800s, what is now College Hill was used for agriculture on several large farm estates. As the area developed, it became known in part, for its iconic water towers at East Grand Avenue and 20th Street, and Bissell Street and Blair Avenue.

But like many north Ó£ÌÒÊÓƵ neighborhoods, suburban flight and business closures ravaged the area.

Nonprofit groups, many connected with the Lutheran church, raised money and provided volunteers for programming. One organization bought empty lots to build affordable housing, but when it folded, several plots were left to the newly created College Hill Foundation.

How they grew a record crop

About five years ago, longtime College Hill volunteer Gail Olson approached Tracy Smith, owner of the Long Row Lavender farm, shop and café near Wright City, roughly 50 miles west of Ó£ÌÒÊÓƵ, and asked her what it would take to grow the flower on one empty lot.

Smith relayed the troubles she'd encountered growing the finicky herb in Missouri's soil, rife with clay, which can stop water from flowing away from the roots of the plant and make it rot and die.

"It's not a native plant," Smith said. "You can't just stick it in the ground."

But Olson and others did their research and decided to give it a try. Smith and her husband helped source the plants and compost and used their tractor to prepare the land. 

Volunteers set out the first crop of 500 plants in 2018, and the following year, when the lavender was mature enough to harvest, volunteer Bill Breyer said they were "shocked" at the yield.

"It was amazing," he said.

Seeds of Grace sold the bundles to Long Row Lavender and kept planting more. Volunteers added two more lots and 1,500 plants to the farm. The foundation hired a few people to watch over the lavender throughout the year.

This year, they set out to reap their biggest harvest yet.

Long Row couldn't buy it all alone, so the College Hill Foundation connected with Dierbergs and floral distributor Baisch & Skinner about selling some fresh stems.

Baisch & Skinner owner Bob Baisch said he went out to inspect the plants and liked what he saw.

"It was such a pleasant surprise," he said. "And you can tell the neighborhood really enjoys it."

On Thursday morning, a group of roughly a dozen volunteers, most from west Ó£ÌÒÊÓƵ County, congregated at the farm and set to work.

Stolen car aside, the harvest is undeterred

The plant must be harvested in the morning because that's when the buds cling most tightly to the stems, allowing them to stay intact during the drying process.

A group of volunteers sat at a table bundling the flowers with rubber bands as neighborhood resident William Butler surveyed the scene.

He said it was important to College Hill to have something beautiful to look at instead of blighted buildings. And the proceeds helped people with home repairs that they may not otherwise be able to afford, he said.

"I think they're happy because they're getting something that they don't have to pay back," he said.

But even with the sweet aroma of lavender and the merry work of the volunteers, the neighborhood's troubles weren't far away. 

Around 8:30 a.m., a man working on a home improvement project nearby rushed up to the group to report he had seen a Volvo SUV being stolen. A video filmed on his phone showed a white sedan pull up next to the SUV, a person jumping in and driving away.

The SUV belonged to Ballwin resident Karen Vaughn, who had volunteered in College Hill for more than a decade. She said she had her keys in her pocket, but must have been close enough for the vehicle to register the remote start.

"We've always been fine," she said, noting her shock. "Who would think this would happen in the morning?"

Kimbrough, the nonprofit's director, called the police and shook his head.

"This completely infuriates me, it really does," he said. "But it's the reality, unfortunately."

At the same time, he said, the incident underscores the importance of the foundation's future. Volunteers are getting older. They need help. And the farm can be more than a volunteer project. It can be an industry. "We've got to be able to develop another plan," Kimbrough said.

In the meantime, volunteers like Bob Wanzel took on the harvest.

After a day spent in the field, Wanzel sent a text with a photo of the blooms at Baisch & Skinner, bundled and wrapped in cellophane, ready for sale.

"Farm to market cycle complete!" he said.