Lady Bird's tradition lives on

Despite having advanced macular degeneration in later life, Lady Bird Johnson could still spot a wildflower at 300 yards.

According to granddaughter Jennifer Robb, the late first lady — who, in her 90s, could no longer speak coherently because of multiple strokes — often pointed into the distance while touring the LBJ Ranch.

"You mean those bluebonnets, Nini?" Robb would ask, using the Johnson grandchildren's shared term of affection for her.

"She'd point farther, meaning the sunflowers 20 yards past that," Robb remembered. "We were supposed to be able to identify them."

Mrs. Johnson's affection for and knowledge of nature — and, in particular, wildflowers — never faded. That devotion was passed on, in various degrees of intensity, to daughters Luci Baines Johnson and Lynda Bird Johnson Robb and then to seven Johnson grandchildren, as well as to 13 great-grandchildren, now spread across the country.

That's one reason Jennifer Robb and cousin Nicole Nugent Covert were eager to discuss the pioneering work of their grandmother, who died in 2007, in conjunction with the American-Statesman's Lady Bird's Legacy donor program, set up to pay for wildflower seedings.

Initiated on Aug. 27, 2008 — the centennial of President Lyndon Johnson's birth — and planned for completion on Dec. 22, 2012 — which would have been Mrs. Johnson's 100th birthday — the campaign has already raised almost $100,000 for highway, school and community plantings. Many readers have made donations for specific locations in memory of loved ones.

The Legacy campaign returns this month as wildflowers dot some parts of Central Texas and blanket others, depending, experts say, on the localized extent of winter freezes.

Robb and Covert exchanged memories recently while sitting among the bursting spiderworts at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Southwest Austin.

"There wasn't a set schedule at the ranch," Robb said of visits from her lifelong home in Virginia to the family's Texas base near Johnson City. "We'd be on the runway for hours at a time, or just stick near the house, exploring. My grandmother would go out to look at the animals, or walk up to the cemetery, or walk down to the runway. She'd always point things out. None of us learned as much as she would have liked."

The cousins also spent chunks of each summer at Camp Mystic, near Hunt, deeper in the Hill Country. Their mothers had attended the private Christian camp, and all the daughters returned to the pristine spot.

"You get a feeling when you drive up to the Hill Country and you'd see the Mystic sign, and you'd feel the weight of the world had been lifted off you," Covert said. "There were no worries. I still feel that way. When I drop my daughter off, I'm jealous."

Both cousins think urban life, which requires strict timetables and parental oversight, complicates childhood.

"All you need is the outdoors and good friends," Covert said. "Even with our children at the ranch, they'd leave the house at 9 in the morning and come back only for meals, like we always did. Just being outdoors was heaven."

Helping the wildflower center is one way they pay tribute to that dreamy outdoor youth. Robb volunteers there, working with native and sustainable plants whenever she's in town; she's a high school precalculus teacher in Arlington, Va. Covert raises money for the center in tandem with cousin Catherine Robb, often through the annual Wildflower Gala, slated this season for April 30.

"We've had all the perks of living within this family," Covert said. "But also a lot of responsibility."

Wildflower center work is only a portion of the Johnson grandchildren's independent-minded philanthropic efforts, an instinct nurtured in their close family circle.

"Our grandmother and both of our mothers let us do whatever made our hearts sing," Covert said. "It wasn't like we were instructed to do wildflowers, or do the (LBJ Library and Museum). My grandmother said: 'Find your passion and stick with it. And if you are going to give of your time, give 100 percent.' "

When in town, Robb also has volunteered for Habitat for Humanity, the Next-to-New consignment shop and Reading is Fundamental, among other causes; Covert sits on the boards of the Children's Medical Center Foundation of Central Texas and Trinity Episcopal School and contributes time to other groups.

Although their vocabulary demonstrates a familiarity with Mrs. Johnson's ecological inclinations, neither claims specialized knowledge of the field.

"I know absolutely nothing about gardening," Robb said. "And I know virtually nothing about wildflowers. There's only about four I can identify. My grandmother would refer to them by their scientific names and really know detailed things about them."

Robb credits the volunteers and docents at the wildflower center for guiding her initial volunteer work there during a sabbatical from teaching while her grandmother was alive. She was given simple tasks, such as ripping ragweed out of wildflower beds.

"I can sit there for hours and take out things they want me to take out," she said cheerfully. "And it gave me the opportunity to bring home stories to my grandmother. I'd tell her, 'I tried not to kill everything out there.' "

Other Johnson descendants have stayed close to the land. One spends all his time near the ranch. Another helps lead a gardening club in San Antonio. The great-grandchildren are picking up the family trait.

"At school, my daughter made what they called a 'little museum,'\u2009" Covert said. "She painted a picture of a ladybug on a leaf. She called it 'Looking outside nature's window.' It caught me off guard."

The cousins have also tried to emulate their grandmother's graciousness.

"She loved watching to see how many were on the tour buses at the ranch," Covert said.

"Because it was a gift they gave back to country. She'd stop and talk to the visitors. She'd do that even when she could not speak anymore. She'd just wave. There was never a more gracious woman. In her later years, even more so. She found a way to do it. Her eyes would light up whenever people were around."

Robb and Covert bask in the reflected glory of their grandmother's achievements and try to stay modest and thankful about it.

"I cannot tell you how many calls I've gotten, and people say, 'We were just driving through, and I thought of your grandmother,' " Covert said of clean highways and bounties of flowers.

"Every spring we are flooded with that. It just reminds me how grateful I am that she was way ahead of her time in terms of the environment. And not so much that it had to be the prettiest, but just take care of it. Enjoy it and take care of it. And leave it better than you found it."

mbarnes@statesman.com