His daughter, Sandi Sharpe, 65, lives on the four-acre vestige of the Krumm winery with her husband, Wilmer, where they continue to prune 13 rows of vines, giving away the grapes. “My father hated concrete,” she said. “He didn’t want it to be developed.”

The old oak casks are still lined up in the winery’s cellar, alongside dusty jugs of wine circa 1970. The press is still in the barn, along with hundreds of baskets used to collect grapes.

Mr. Lacy has been talking to Stockton College, where he taught for so many years, about incorporating the historic vineyard into a viticulture program the college is considering, which would train people in all aspects of the wine industry now flourishing in southern New Jersey. He has also been in touch with Kevin Celli, the farm manager of Willow Creek Winery, in West Cape May, N.J., about the century-old vineyard and the antique press moldering in the barn. After inspecting the gnarled vines a week ago, Mr. Celli offered to bring a few experts over this winter, to prune them.

And while Mr. Lacy’s latest dream takes shape, more people like Ms. Kelley are coming into Lang’s Garden Market with questions for Mr. Butrus.

“They say, ‘What’s that white rose blooming in the arboretum?’ ” he said. “I tell them, ‘That’s a camellia, not a rose.’ ” And he shows them pots of Lu Shan Snow, which is from China and is so cold-hardy it has been used to breed other camellias, like Mason Farm, whose elegant, single white flowers are streaked with pink.

As these uncommon plants scatter throughout Linwood, Mr. Lacy mused, in his quizzical professorial way, about why other cities and towns all over the country don’t follow suit, taking scraps of unused land and turning them into arboretums.

Mr. Raulston died in 1996, in a car accident. But the Linwood Arboretum is carrying on his mission.