Remember those carefree days of childhood? Those fond memories of hide and go seek, hopscotch and climbing trees? I think climbing trees has to be one of my favorite childhood memories.
Trees are sometimes the best listeners as they silently watch our mobile figures moving below their branches. They speak in a language we do not understand, but we do hear them. It's usually in the late afternoon when the thunderheads of summer begin to bloom, a breeze will pass through the leaves. It sounds almost like a whisper of hundreds of small voices in unison. As the wind gets stronger the voices become louder and soon the tree creaks and groans as its very flesh, its core, is stretched and pushed from side to side.
I remember the trees of my childhood. Those wonderful gentle giants, which almost beckoned us to climb aboard into their curved and tangled arms. The older kids would laugh as we carefully and very cautiously inched our way higher and higher. And then for the first time in our young lives, we felt the freedom and saw the view...a view a tree sees daily. And in Athens, Georgia one such tree was given a special gift from a child who loved it like family.
It is just a simple White Oak in an older part of Athens. But to a small boy growing up in the 1800s, this tree must have left an impression. That boy was William Henry Jackson, son of James Jackson, a Revolutionary War veteran, congressman, U.S. Senator and Governor of Georgia.
And when William became an adult with considerable clout, he decided to give this wonderful tree an opportunity to live out its life free of the axe and saw. Free to own itself.
This, in fact, is the second generation of the tree that owns itself. The first generation died from erosion and fell on October 9th, 1942. Estimates are that the original tree was over 100 feet tall and somewhere between 150 and 400 years old when it collapsed on that fateful night.
By this time the original little boy who loved this tree was also gone. It was probably best that he wasn’t here to see his faithful friend collapse. But it took another young boy, in another period in history to come up with a solution.
You see, after the tree’s demise, the lot set vacant for a few years. The spot became quiet and in disrepair. But a young boy named Dan Magill suggested that his mother’s garden club find a replacement for the tree. And as fate would have it, a man named Captain Jack Watson had a five-foot seedling from the original tree growing nearby, in his front yard.
On December 4th, 1946 there was a formal dedication with Athens mayor, Robert L. McWhorter presiding. There was a blessing and lots of smiles on that day in Athens, Georgia. The Garden Club took on the responsibility to keep the lot clean and watch over the tree as time went on. And today, that tree is still thriving. The wording on a nearby plaque says it all: “For and in consideration of the great love I bear this tree and the great desire I have for its protection for all time, I convey entire possession of itself and all land within eight feet of the tree on all sides.”
William H. Jackson
We’ll see you next time on Stories, Secrets and Sagas.
