She and her husband replaced the tree with white, yellow, and blue flowers. Someone took those, too.
Martello, however, is as undaunted as a dandelion that takes root in a concrete sidewalk. She put flowers outside her house again this year. So far, they are still there.
Of course, Philadelphia gardeners don't take this greenery grabbing lying down in their hammocks.
How could they in the city where Mayor Frank Rizzo tucked a nightstick into his tuxedo cummerbund to be properly dressed for both a riot and a formal affair? Where pedestrians and drivers engage in crosswalk stare-downs? Where people battle to win a ribbon at the Flower Show as though they were competitors on reality TV?
This city's plant lovers channel their flower power. They fight back.
Sally McCabe, project manager of Garden Tenders, a program of the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society, once had a plot at Seedy Acres, a community garden in Northern Liberties. People took flowers that surrounded that garden, so McCabe and her friends planted prickly pear as a deterrent.
"We toyed with poison ivy," she said, "but it's delayed gratification. Stinging nettle would be better, because you touch that and you're going to sting for 10 minutes."
In community gardens, people also walk off with vegetables. McCabe gives those crooks the benefit of the doubt, believing they are merely frustrated at seeing food go to waste.
But she also knows how to keep the vegetable thieves at bay.
"Put flour on your plants. Nobody wants to pick something that's been dusted," McCabe said. "It looks like you put pesticides on it."
People ask her for advice on preventing theft a few times a year, often around Mother's Day, when the crime peaks.
