Yellow Van Farms

“It all started because the turkeys were missing.”

Written by Erin M. Cowser

That’s how Destin Sims begins when asked how Yellow Van Farms (YVF) came to be. Not quite what one might expect when asking about the origins of a flower farm. Neither is the idea of the corporate general counsel of Jani-King Gulf Coast—and now mother of four (Billy, the latest addition arrived in February)—getting into the flower business. And one would be remiss not to mention her husband, William, a senior vice president with global labor market analysis firm Lightcast, whose uncle gifted the couple the land, located off a back road in the unincorporated community of Loranger, Louisiana.

They sound like the perfect couple to embark on an agricultural endeavor in their spare time on 650 acres in rural Tangipahoa Parish, right? While it may seem a bit incongruous at first, listening to the story of how YVF came to be ends up making perfect sense.

First, it’s important to note that Destin, an accomplished attorney with a degree from the Benjamin Cardozo School of Law in New York City, didn’t start out intent on a law degree.

“My bachelor’s degree is actually in biology,” she says, smiling. “The night before my last undergraduate final, it hit me that I don’t like science. So I shifted gears and decided to study law—not the kind in the courtroom, but the kind that works in the boardroom instead.”

So that helps explain a bit of the quasi botany-biology connection. Then there’s the gift from William’s uncle. A very generous one. While it included quite a lot of acreage, the only structure remaining on the property was in desperate need of repair.

“There was no roof left on the building at all, and it was so overgrown that from the road you couldn’t even tell there was a building here,” Destin says. “Originally it was a milking parlor, which is why there are different levels to the flooring for the cows. But the really fun part of the building’s history is that it was later used to host political gatherings and hunting trips. They’d hunt doves or turkeys and come back afterward to politick and party.”

Quite a few of those gatherings were fundraisers for none other than Earl K. Long. William’s grandfather, Joseph A. Sims, was the governor’s legal advisor—described by historians as a faithful friend.

An interesting side note: the very first chapter of A.J. Liebling’s The Earl of Louisiana is titled “Joe Sims, Where the Hell You Been?” It references the time when Long was a “guest” of the Southeast Louisiana State Hospital in Mandeville. It was Sims who secured Long’s discharge from the hospital by pointing out that, as governor, Long could simply fire the hospital director and appoint one who would let him go.

But back to the story of how the Sims family became flower farmers.

As William and Destin began to reconstruct the building and tend to the land, they noticed that the wild turkeys—once so abundant they had been the focus of hunting trips—were no longer in the Loranger woods.

A few reforestation consultants and a wild turkey expert later (yes, they do exist), it was determined that the turkeys had left because the native grasses and plants they fed on were no longer growing on the property. Over time, non-native loblolly pines had overtaken the land, crowding out the longleaf pines and native vegetation.

That’s when the idea to plant native wildflowers and grasses first took root. After some research, they also wondered whether flowers typically imported could grow in the southeastern climate.

“It’s funny that this all got started because William noticed the wild turkeys were gone,” Destin says, smiling. “That, and when we attended a wedding in Wyoming during COVID. They had gorgeous native cut flowers at the rehearsal dinner, which got us thinking. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Since planting her first 1,000 bulbs in the fall of 2020, Destin has steadily increased output— yet still can’t keep up with demand. This year, she planted 43,000 tulips alone. That doesn’t include the dozens of other species. She continues to try growing an assortment of flowers, both native and not, to see what will flourish in the Tangipahoa soil.

One surprising thing she’s learned? Flower farming doesn’t require as much space as one might think.

“Flowers don’t have to be spaced in rows like traditional farm crops,” she says. “You can plant 1,000 bulbs practically on top of each other in a 4-by-10-foot bed. When you see the fields in Holland, you’re looking at millions of bulbs. I’m a baby farmer in comparison.”

With three fields, several raised beds, and two hoop house greenhouses, she’s able to grow a diverse variety thanks to the compact spacing and short growing cycles of most flowers. Flowers are harvested before fully blooming to ensure they reach peak beauty in the hands of the customer.

Yellow Van Farms’ gardens grow: Roses, dahlias, ranunculus, anemones, daffodils, lilies, snapdragons, foxglove, delphinium, larkspur, yarrow, sea holly, bachelor’s button, eucalyptus, sunflowers, zinnias, celosia, amaranth, gomphrena, dianthus, strawflower, scabiosa, nigella, smilax, echinacea, rudbeckia, heirloom chrysanthemums, marigolds, winged everlasting, salvia, red leaf hibiscus, rosemary, lisianthus, ageratum, basil, stock, Queen Anne’s lace, allium, poppies, plume grass, liatris, rattlesnake master, goldenrod, craspedia, asters, beautyberry, anthurium and ammi.

Although she doesn’t cultivate it, the surrounding woods offer an abundance of wild asparagus, as well.

“I wrap Billy in his sling, and we head into the woods with a garbage bag,” she says. “It’s crazy that florists pay good money for wild asparagus—and it’s just growing right here.”

It’s not uncommon to see the Sims’ other children— Macayla, 11; Joseph Arthur |(named for his grandfather), 9; and Charley, 5—“helping” with flower duties or entertaining their baby brother.

When she’s not tending the farm, managing legal affairs, or parenting, Destin hosts field trips, Girl Scout troops and U-Pick events at the farm. YVF even held its first kids’ day camp over Thanksgiving break.

Destin is now also a licensed florist, designing arrangements for weddings, showers, garden parties, and more. The farm offers monthly flower subscriptions, hosts “Fleur Bars” at events, and sells Grab-and-Go bouquets at local restaurants and shops. The flower cart—where it all began—still makes Saturday appearances at the Hammond Farmers and Artisans Market.

In 2024, the Sims family launched the Louisiana Tulip Festival, an offshoot of the Louisiana Flower Festival.

The second annual event, held in February (yes, the same month Billy was born), featured more than 43,000 tulips and nearly 1,000 attendees. The festival donates 100% of proceeds to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

Destin’s long-term goal is to introduce more native flowers into the floral industry. So far, it’s working.

“I had no idea that over 80% of florists’ materials are imported,” she says. “It’s tricky with brides, though. You can’t choose flowers that aren’t in season. You have to trust us to work with your colors and create something beautiful using what’s blooming locally.”

That trust has paid off—with weddings everywhere from the Windsor Court Hotel to Rosie’s Jazz Hall, and even a full downtown Hammond street closure for a wedding reception with three 50-person banquet tables.

Next up? Destin intends to organize an association of flower farms to help promote the availability of native flowers to florists. A website is already in the works that will include a comprehensive list of flowers available locally, as well as a calendar of events where the farms will be hosting or participating.

If you plan to visit any events at YVF, you won’t have any trouble finding it. There is an actual old yellow van that will greet you when you come down the road to the farm.

“We uncovered it while clearing brush,” she laughs. “It was completely overgrown in the back. We have no idea how it got there.”

And, for those still wondering: yes, the turkeys have returned. A hen hatched two chicks the first year they planted native botanicals, and they’ve flourished ever since.

Fitting, then, that a group of young turkeys is called a “crop.” They’ve found the perfect home among the flower crops of Yellow Van Farms.