The corpse flower hadn’t bloomed. It was his job to figure out why

Horticulturist Stephen Jones scrambled to the top of a concrete balustrade looking to solve a botanical mystery last Friday: Why wasn’t the Amorphophallus titanum blooming?

The species is Indonesian, but plant number 2019-0033 had been cultivated at the U.S. Botanic Garden in Washington, D.C. Jones had expected it to unfurl at least three days ago.

Here’s the thing: When these plants bloom, they stink. Literally. Like a rotting carcass, some say.

The spectacle brings life to the institution, attracting curious patrons by the hundreds – like pollinators in the rainforest.

The eyes of the whole city were on this first-time bloom. What was taking so long?

Jones got closer to the plant. In the center of the garden’s Tropics House, he gently squeezed the top of the plant, testing to see if it was taking on water.

To solve the curious case of the “awkward” corpse flower, he needed to do an autopsy on this bloom cycle.

The Botanic Garden could not have engineered a more perfect mind to get to the bottom of the mystery.

The corpse flower stands nearly 10 feet high and resembles a giant bok choy with a yellow banana pepper growing skyward from inside the closed spadix blossom. They typically bloom every two to three years.

Since he arrived in 2017, Jones has tried to see each blossoming of the 35 in the collection.

“I love watching the plant do its thing,” Jones said. “It’s alien. It’s a weird thing … What’s not to love?”

He has spent all-nighters simply observing and taking notes. He has caught a snootful of stink standing on ladders to get a bird’s-eye view. He has run experiments testing the effects of light and water.

Jones is, admittedly, an obsessive.

The plants are on display, but often so is Jones. Last Thursday, he estimates 650 people visited the plant, many rapid-firing questions at him.

“There is something about the corpse flower that makes it easy to just answer questions. I find it fascinating and visitors find it fascinating,” Jones said.

The Upstate New York native migrated from web design to golf course management at PGA Tour-quality venues. Then he became an arborist, which eventually brought him to D.C. seven years ago.

He speaks in terms lay people need a science book to decipher. The 39-year-old uses words like spathe (the bok choy thing) and spadix (the banana pepper-shaped thing) with ease.

Learning, science and growth drive him.

His connection to this specific plant is unique. On his first day at the gardens, officials collected pollen to create this very flower that for days kept him stumped.

“I’m confused. I’m curious,” Jones said before leaving work. “It would be a shame if it didn’t bloom, didn’t open and I can’t explain it.”

By Sunday morning, a scent of death lingered throughout the steamy, humid Tropics House.

The plant had opened up just slightly, probably about 3 or 4 a.m., Jones estimated.

“It’s kind of stinky,” a woman commented as she walked by.

“Whoa!” said another woman, recoiling.

Jones repeatedly asked onlookers, “What do you think it smells like?”

Boiled cabbage, one said.

Rotting meat – perhaps lamb, came another response.

Death, a third person offered.

“It smells like dirty diapers to me,” Jones said. “But a lot of dirty diapers in a hot room.”

Every few minutes, the odor re-emerged and mingled with the smells of perfume and tourist sweat.

“It’s not quite going to realize it’s potential. It would have stunk the whole room up if it did,” Jones said.

His autopsy was well underway.

Jones took thermal images and recorded the temperature. He sliced a rectangular window at the blossom’s base to examine the male and female flowers.

It wasn’t the heat, humidity or water intake, Jones knew. They perfectly replicated a tropical lowland environment. But Jones devised a new theory: too much ambient light disrupted the plant’s nocturnal rhythm.

His concern for the species will take him to Singapore this week to lecture about conservation. Then he will collect more data on this plant’s cycle, before repotting the plant in about a month to begin the flowering process anew.

“I can’t wait until two to three years to see this bloom again,” Jones said, “because it’s really a beautiful one.”