PLANT CITY — The vibrant orange of the cempasúchil — the Mexican marigold — signals the approach of one of the most deeply rooted celebrations in Mexican culture: the Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos).
In Plant City, this color blankets the fields of the Sánchez Farm, where a Mexican family has found a way to keep their traditions alive far from their homeland — while sharing them with thousands of others.
Amidst rows of freshly harvested flowers, food stalls, handicrafts, horses and traditional dances, the farm has become much more than just a place to buy flowers. It is a space where the memory of ancestors meets the life of a community striving to preserve its roots in the United States.
Behind this initiative are Carolina López and her husband, Fidel Sánchez. In 2019, they decided to venture into growing a flower that, for them, represents far more than a mere ornamental plant. The idea stemmed from a simple, yet nostalgia-filled question: how could they find the flowers in Florida that they used to place on the ofrendas (altars) for their loved ones back in Mexico every Nov. 1 and 2?
The answer: grow them themselves.
A family endeavor that took root
The beginning was not easy. Using a portion of their savings, Carolina and Fidel dedicated one acre of land to cultivation. The first year was defined by trial, error and learning; only half of what was planted managed to thrive, while the rest was lost.
The initial experience did not dampen the couple’s enthusiasm. It allowed them to get to know the land better, learn how to prepare the furrows, adjust irrigation and discover the specific care each plant required.
“In our home country, it’s customary to place flowers for our departed loved ones on November 1st and 2nd. After moving to Florida many years ago, we wondered how we would manage to get these flowers. So, we said: ‘Let’s grow them ourselves!’” recalls Carolina.
In 2020, the first harvest arrived — this time, with the intention of selling the flowers. What had initially been envisioned as a small-scale, home-use project ended up becoming a business opportunity.
Carolina remembers loading a large pickup with the harvested flowers and heading out to sell them. A surprise awaited them: by around 9 in the morning, they had completely sold out. They repeated the process until they had moved three full truckloads, and the entire harvest found buyers.
The response from the Mexican community in Plant City — joined by families from Central American countries like Guatemala and El Salvador, who also maintain traditions centered on remembering their deceased — confirmed that there was an unmet need that no one else was addressing in this way.
The family decided to expand their planting year after year. What began as a domestic experiment transformed into an agricultural operation, with a sales season that has grown increasingly busy.
Today, the Sánchez Farm dedicates seven acres to cempasúchil and has extended its reach well beyond the Tampa Bay area. Buyers from Georgia, North Carolina and South Carolina arrive to purchase the flowers wholesale. Atlanta, Carolina explains, is among the markets that purchase the largest share of their harvest.
From the fields to a festival of tradition and culture
The growth wasn’t limited to planting more flowers. Fidel Sánchez had a different vision: to turn the seasonal sale into a festival that would bring together various expressions of Mexican and Latin American culture.
And so, the farm began welcoming visitors with an experience that goes far beyond just the harvest itself. The stalls feature handicrafts from Mexico and other countries, a variety of food offerings, horse exhibitions, jaripeo (traditional Mexican rodeo), and performances of traditional dances.
This transformation has turned the site into a gathering place for families, who come not only to purchase cempasúchil but also to enjoy activities that evoke their places of origin and allow new generations to connect with their traditions.
Preparation begins months before visitors arrive to walk through the fields. Starting in August, the family organizes the cultivation areas and prepares the soil. The process includes conditioning the land, installing and upgrading irrigation systems, sowing, applying fertilizers, and providing the necessary care leading up to the harvest.
It takes approximately four months of work to ensure the flowers are ready for one of the most significant periods in the Mexican cultural calendar.
The reward is evident in the color of the fields and in the public’s response. For Carolina, each season also represents a new opportunity to learn and improve. Six years after starting the project, the accumulated experience remains a fundamental part of the farm’s growth.
Two million flowers and a growing community
The scale the business has reached is reflected in its production volume and the number of people who participate during the season.
Carlos López, who has worked at the farm since 2021 and is in charge of sales, is well-acquainted with the bustle that arises during the busiest days. His role involves assisting the public, guiding customers, and helping to keep the commercial operation organized.
According to his estimates, production reaches approximately 2 million flowers per season. Based on an average weight of 8 to 12 grams per flower, this volume amounts to about 16 to 24 metric tons of fresh product.
This activity is also reflected in employment. During the season, about 60 people work on the farm — most of them Hispanic, according to López.
“We support one another,” he explains, describing the work environment and the dynamics of an operation that expands as the number of visitors and customers — arriving from various parts of Florida and other states — continues to grow.
Managing the farm has become an increasingly demanding task. It is not just about harvesting and selling; it also involves attending to families, coordinating stalls, facilitating wholesale purchases, and offering activities that turn a visit into an engaging experience for people of all ages.
Each year, López notes, the goal is to introduce new features. Horses, jaripeo, and Mexican dances are among the attractions that capture the interest of attendees.
While flowers remain the heart of the business, an entire ecosystem of activity has emerged around them — one that connects agriculture, commerce, culture, and community.
A flower that guides the path of the departed
The significance of the Sánchez Farm takes on a new dimension when one understands the meaning of the cempasúchil within Mexican culture.
During his visit to the farm, Iván Pliego, the Mexican consul in Orlando, highlighted the value of initiatives like this one in preserving and promoting his country’s traditions in Florida. His visit also underscored the farm’s strong ties to the Mexican community and the support that the consulate aims to provide to such spaces.
Pliego explained that the cempasúchil is part of a tradition with pre-Hispanic roots, linked to the memory of those who have passed away and to ancestral beliefs regarding the journey taken after death.
In these worldviews, the remembrance of the deceased holds a central place. With its vibrant orange hue, the flower is incorporated into ofrendas (offerings) and altars as a symbol of light and guidance — a way to keep the connection alive between those who remain and those who have departed.
The diplomat referred to Mictlán — the realm of the dead in Mexican tradition — to illustrate the historical depth of these beliefs and their endurance through the centuries.
“It is a devotion to the memory of those who came before us — remembering them and keeping them present in our minds and in our hearts,” said Pliego, who expressed his pleasure in visiting the farm for the first time and his enthusiasm for strengthening collaborative efforts with the community.
The consul also noted that the growth of businesses like the one run by the Sánchez family reflects the presence and contributions of Mexican and Latin American communities in Florida and throughout the United States.
Regarding consular support, he affirmed his commitment to continuing his work with this community, connecting them to new opportunities, and providing ongoing assistance. For the Sánchez family, this engagement offers a chance to bring greater visibility to an endeavor that blends agricultural production, entrepreneurship, and cultural heritage.
Planting far from Mexico, harvesting identity
For Carolina López, the meaning of the flower has never changed, even though the project has grown remarkably since that very first plot.
The cempasúchil remains part of a tradition learned from her grandparents: preparing offerings to symbolically welcome loved ones during the Day of the Dead. Its color, she explains, represents the light that guides the path for those returning to the memories of their families.
It is this heritage that the couple sought to preserve when they decided to start planting in Florida. Without initially intending to, they also discovered a way to share it with other immigrant families and with those who wish to learn about a celebration deeply rooted in Mexican identity.
At the Sánchez Farm, the work begins long before the first visitors arrive to buy flowers. The soil must be prepared, the plants tended to, irrigation monitored, and there is a patient wait for the fields to fill with color. Then come the sales, the families, the food stalls, the music, and the dancing.
Ultimately, the harvest represents much more than 2 million flowers. It is the result of a family endeavor that found an opportunity for growth within tradition — a project that has helped create a space where the community can gather, connect with one another, and keep their customs alive.
In Plant City — far from the towns and cities in Mexico where this tradition originated — the cempasúchil once again fulfills its symbolic purpose: to illuminate the memory of those who are no longer with us, and to remind those who remain of where they come from.
Because some roots do not depend on the place where one is born. It is enough to plant them, nurture them, and share them for them to bloom once again.
