Joshua trees tower over rows of spiky cacti and fleshy succulents in a Yakima backyard that doubles as a desert oasis—and to Bryan McKitrick, a living memorial to his father's 25-year passion project.
When visitors first step into Hillside Desert Botanical Gardens at 3405 Hillside Place, they're often stopped in their tracks by the sight of those Joshua trees, plants so unexpected in Washington that they feel almost otherworldly. Ron McKitrick, a longtime pharmacist at Yakima Valley Memorial Hospital who died in January 2020 at age 83, spent more than two decades curating this hidden gem, filling 13 raised beds and two greenhouses with roughly 500 varieties of cacti and succulents drawn from desert regions as far-flung as Arizona and South Africa. He never treated the gardens as a commercial venture—he simply wanted people to come and look. After his death, Bryan inherited not just a beloved family landmark but thousands of plants and the quiet responsibility to keep his father's vision alive.
The transition wasn't straightforward. Bryan had worked as a mail carrier for nearly three decades while helping his father when time allowed, so taking full ownership of the sprawling collection felt overwhelming at first. "What am I supposed to do with all these things?" he recalled with a laugh. For the first four years after Ron's death, Bryan was still juggling his postal career, which left limited time to tend the gardens meaningfully. But two years ago, he retired, finally opening space in his life to step deeper into the work.
Where his father saw the gardens purely as a gift to the community, Bryan has woven in a sustainable business model. He obtained a business license and now crafts nontraditional succulent arrangements in glass bowls and decorative containers, selling them at the Yakima Farmers Market, regional flea markets, and weekend events throughout the region. It's a practical decision that keeps the gardens thriving—and it's resonating. "They seem to love them," Bryan said of his creations. "They have trouble picking out which one they like best. That's a nice feeling."
The work remains demanding. Maintaining hundreds of plant varieties, managing the greenhouses, and stewarding the property requires constant attention. Yet Bryan has found purpose in balancing preservation with thoughtful evolution. He's making changes that honor his father's legacy while allowing the gardens to grow in new directions. The Joshua trees still stand as sentries at the gate, still stopping visitors in their tracks—now with a second-generation McKitrick tending the soil beneath them, keeping Ron's dream rooted in the community he loved.