Gardening – Col. H. G. Blake House

May 29, 2017May 29, 2017

Plant Giveaway Leads to Issues

I have been absolutely stunned over the audacity of some people over the past two days.

We have started our annual free plant giveaway at H.G. Blake House. Each year, as I separate plants and thin them out, I pot them and put them by a little gate in the front yard with the same sign each year saying the plants are free for whomever needs them.

As the summer progresses, I add plants as I have them available.

Each year, people have been very kind and respectful of our privacy and have simply taken what they need or want and, if they see us, they say, “Thank you.” This year we even had two very kind people drop off some pots for the giveaway.

However, in the past couple of days, some of those stopping for plants have been completely different from previous years. I have been absolutely astounded at what they are doing.

People have been parking in our driveway, getting out of their vehicles, and then start “shopping” all over our property for plants they want to take! They don’t even bother walking over to the Free Plant sign and seeing it is only THOSE potted plants by the sign before they take off down our driveway, into our backyard (causing an uproar with the dogs, not that these people are paying any heed whatsoever to that), and picking out what plants they want.

Two such people even went so far as to suggest I should have a garage sale and sell my garden ornaments, even telling me which ones they want!

Another couple, after being told that it was only plants by the gate that are available, instead of backing out and leaving, they instead started pulling forward in our driveway and almost ran over one of our dogs. Luckily, a family member stopped them and made them back out.

One set of such “visitors,” after being told that it was not the entire property’s plants that were being given away, had the nerve to ask if we live here. I fail to see why that matters, why it is any of their business, and what it has to do with the free plants.

Sadly, if we continue to have problems such as these we will be ending the free plant program forever.

I have hung a second sign with large red arrows pointing to where the free plants are located in hopes that it will curb the issues we are having this year. I don’t want to end this giveaway because I know there are lots of people who are enjoying the free plants and I hate throwing the plants into the compost pile.

Thank you to all of those who have been so kind and respectful and who are enjoying the plants. You are the ones who make it so enjoyable to do this and make me look for as many different plants as I can for you.

March 6, 2017March 6, 2017

Cutting Down 112 Years of Tree History in One Day

On her last morning with us, the copper beech gave one last glorious color show when her leaves were lit up by the early morning sun.

The top, or crown, of the 85-foot tall tree, where sky and tree joined.

The plywood arrives. It will be used to make a safe area for the trucks to park without sinking into the yard or breaking the sidewalk.

Plywood is down, the cherry picker truck is in place.

It begins.

85-Foot Tall Tree Felled in Only 6 Hours

It began in the clear crispness of a May morning.

First to arrive was the cherry picker truck that would lift man and chainsaw into the leafy branches.

Then came the chipper that would grind leaves, twigs and branches into a pile of mulch.

There was a slight pause as we all looked up at the regal copper beech, shielding our eyes from the sharp morning sun, a last moment of homage to a tree who had served well beyond her years. She remained strikingly beautiful to the end.

The motor of the cherry picker arm whined as it lifted man and saw into the branches.

The chainsaw motor started growling.

Small branches began to fall, as if testing the ground for the later arrival of the bigger pieces.

Three hours of trimming small branches, then bigger limbs thunked into the ground with the sickening sound of finality.

A piece would fall, sending vibrations through the ground as the “thunk” sounded across the neighborhood, combined with an occasional “clunk” when one piece would land on another.

Each time a piece fell, I flinched with pain as it landed. Yet, I could not leave. As the tree’s guardian and caretaker, it was my duty to be near the 112-year-old copper beech as she was felled.

Old and sick and tired, yet she was still so beautiful that her destruction caused a deep shock and mourning for those driving by. Many had mouths hanging open, shock in their eyes.

At one point, the cable that connected the double trunks was snapped by a falling branch. Both trunks waved in the air, one threatening to fall on the house, the other to fall toward the street.

As the trunks swayed, it felt as though the world stopped, we all held our breath and waited. Then the trunks stilled, and the cutting continued.

The problem with cutting down a tree, believing it to be rotted, is that you don’t really know until it is too late if you are right or wrong.

As the tree was felled and the wood looked so solid, doubt began to sink in.

Then the section of the trunk that had been the first indicator of rot was slowly lowered into the truck, nestled into place, count to three…and the piece shattered.

It was then we all knew how close we had come to disaster.

With the final cut, there was doubt no more. The trunk at ground level had a large area so rotted that it looked like someone had filled the center of the tree with chocolate pudding, as if it were some kind of demented dessert.

The tree cutting crew said that what would have happened is the rotted area of the trunk would have split it in half, causing it to fall in two different directions, leaving the second of the twin trunks to fall toward the house. There was little to nothing structural holding up the immense 85-foot-tall tree.

It took 112 years to grow, but only six hours to cut down, chip and haul the tree away. Six hours and it was over. It seems like it should have taken longer out of respect for nature’s work.

It is time for change, a time for a new tree, a new look, and perhaps a change in life’s path from a long stretch of unemployment to success.

We are looking forward to the tomorrows to come and to finding the tree who will earn the honor of taking the place of our beloved copper beech tree.

The beautiful patterns in the wood can be seen in these logs.

One of the many house windows that was once filled with a tree-side view. Within a few hours, even the remaining trunks were gone.

Even without branches, the tree dwarfs man and truck

The chipped tree

Using the crane to lift logs into the back of the truck

Trimming logs that are too long for the truck.

Guiding the fall

In the background, on the ground, is the final piece of trunk turned on its side. The extensive rot is now obvious.

Where a limb fell

A view not seen since 1900.

The rot at ground level

The rot has the consistency of chocolate pudding. There were other, less obvious signs of decay, almost 100 percent of the trunk had died and rotted.

For the first time in decades, the side of the house is exposed to sunlight.

For the full story on the copper beech tree’s history, please see the post 112-Year-Old Copper Beech Tree Loses Her Battle.

March 6, 2017March 6, 2017

112-Year-Old Copper Beech Tree Loses Her Battle

Looking beautiful in her final days.

Time, traffic and pollution take their toll on history

Her leaves play in the sunlight and breeze.

Flipping each elongated side up and down, looking for all the world like she is a child wiggling her fingers in the delightfulness of the day.

Sunlight bounces off leaves that are red, now green, then red again as the breeze dips them into shadow, changing color as only the unique leaves of a copper beech can.

Birds tweet above.

They flit from branch to branch, enjoying the solid feel of her arms, the smoothness of her bark.

Countless squirrels have raced her branches. Young ones learning to navigate their first tree fell many times from her arms to the soft ivy below.

There are no facelifts, no hiding of age for her. Every line and bump and crack show her age, giving her an elegance of survival, showing that the years have never been easy ones.

In places her bark is so smooth and clear, it is as if she were once again a young sapling first taking root.

Other areas show odd twists and scars and lines gathered in her 112 years of surviving storms, animals and children.

It was only eight years ago that she showed how strong she still was by destroying an entire sewer line and collapsing it. Her roots were smacked back and the line replaced with modern plastic pipe, but there is no doubt that she has been wrapping around it since then, trying to squeeze her way into the free-flowing nutrients inside.

In 1900, she was planted in honor of the birth of a little girl who was to become known as Pauline Griesinger-McClelland. It was Pauline’s father, Christian Griesinger, who planted her. At the same time, he planted an entire apple orchard about 200 feet away from the copper beech.

The story passed down within the Shepard-Griesinger family is that he was so happy to finally have a daughter that he ran out and planted the trees in her honor. I have always thought, though, that it might have been the screaming of his wife giving birth that drove him outdoors to plant!

Through the years, the copper beech, the apple trees and Pauline grew strong and then grew old together.

Pauline was known for tending to her flowers in the 30-plus gardens on the grounds. The gardens had been planted by her family in the 1880s.

As Pauline aged, she wanted to ensure the property and house would be protected. She knew her family’s home would be at risk when the time came that she would die. She was a ferocious guardian of the home her family had lived continuously in for 100 years of its existence.

Being a corner property, it had long attracted the interest of local developers . One of the developers who was particularly anxious to gain possession of the property was well known in the area for “demolition by neglect”, where he would allow the property to decay beyond repair, then shrug and tear down the building.

While Pauline had other family members, they had spread out and had their own lives and homes and no one wanted to return to the house. Her death would mean it was time for a new family. She would leave the task of finding the new family to her survivors.

Through Pauline’s efforts, the house and grounds gained official historic status and were listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The house had been a station on the Underground Railroad in the 1850s and it was that, combined with its importance to the community, that gained it recognition.

By the time Pauline died at the age of 86, the apple orchard was long gone. Yet, the copper beech continued to grow and flourish by the side of the house so long loved and cared for by Pauline.

Pauline’s remaining family members, in honor of her wishes to preserve the property, had a restriction placed on the deed that kept the property from being subdivided. This action ended the developers’ interest in the property.

About 14 years after Pauline’s death, the copper beech gained recognition from American Forests for being a historic tree.

Now, sadly, the copper beech’s life also has come to an end. Through the leaves

The effects of time and pollution and the intense increase of traffic on the road over her roots has taken their toll. She has rotted from the roots up. The depth of her illness was discovered this spring.

As snow and freezing temperatures gave way to warmer breezes and dancing sunlight, a large piece of the copper beech’s bark also gave way and revealed a huge hole in her main trunk.

The hole in the trunk goes two thirds of the way around, and the rot has extended well above the hole and below as well. Tree companies were called in to rescue her but there is to be no second chance.

Despite her illness, seed pods can be seen among her leaves. She tries every year, despite having been infertile for at least the last 10 years.

It is a period of deep mourning as an old friend leaves. Not quietly in the night, but violently with saws and the cracking of limbs and a crane to carry her away in pieces.

Today she stands in noble grandeur, twice the height of the house. Her leaves playing in the sun and breeze, stroking my cheek as I pass.

The copper beech dwarfs the historic home it grows beside. The house was already 60 years old when the beech was planted.

In the background, the traffic that passes the copper beech 24 hours a day can be seen.

The smooth, light gray bark of the copper beech.

A conk is an indicator of rot within a tree. The copper beech has conks growing at ground level and up to approximately 20 feet above ground level.

The limb that once held a baby swing, until it was noticed it was hurting the tree. The swing was quickly removed.

Depending on the light, the leaves look pink, red, green, and even a rich chocolate brown.

Despite her desperate condition, the magnificent copper beech is attempting one last time to make seeds. She has not had fertile seeds for more than 10 years.

The horrible rot in the tree can be seen just above the midpoint of this photo. The tree continues on for many feet above the point of rot.

The part of the tree we try not to look at because it underlines the helplessness and hopelessness of saving her.

It took only 6 hours to take down this beautiful 85-foot tall tree. If you would like to see how it was done, please see the post Cutting Down 112 Years of Tree History in One Day.

Comments

Nancy McC. Wilson 4 years ago

I am daughter of Pauline who was born in the Western Reserve farmhouse beside the copper beech, which will be taken down on May 15. My mother’s lifelong affection for trees is surely linked to the history of that eminent tree. Her loyalty has entered the family gene pool, and has shown up in me, my daughter, and my 17-year old granddaughter. It is wondrous beyond belief that Amy, the present owner and steward of that property, an in-town mini farm a block from the town common, shares this gene of love for this mighty old tree and will be there holding its branched hand as if falls this week. Thank you, and our deep sympathy to you, Amy. Through your words, the story of this tree will last.

A. Barnes 4 years ago

Thank you so much, Nancy, for your kind words and love through this very difficult time. I am deeply honored by your friendship and guidance.

Mary S. Griesinger Lincoln 4 years ago

Dear Amy,

Thank you so much for memorializing the tree under which I played as a girl. I am Pauline’s grand niece and was named for her mother, Mary Shepard Griesinger, who tended the gardens at 314. That love of trees and plants has extended down my branch of the family as well. My daughter has certainly caught it and I hope her son has as well, though at 3 1/2 it’s too early to tell. Our family is so grateful that the house and the tree are in such loving hands.

A. Barnes 4 years ago

Dear Mary,

Thank you for the additional family history and encouragement! I am honored to preserve and promote a part of your family’s history and to safeguard the home.

There is a very strong feeling of history and connectedness here that can not be reproduced and that my family and I value highly.

Joe Vanable 4 years ago

My connection with all this is through my wife, Jane, sister of Bennett Wilson, late husband of Nancy. Jane and I often dropped by to see Pauline and Mac during our many visits to Medina, and always admired this magnificent tree. It is so sad that it is no more; I had thought that it would be there forever. However, I am happy to report that, in a sense it lives on: in one of our many visits to Medina, back, I think, in the 70s, Pauline dug up a very young descendant of this copper beech as a treasured gift to us. We transported it back to West Lafayette, Indiana, in the trunk of our sedan, and planted it in our yard. It has thrived here: I can’t really estimate its considerable height, but its girth at about four feet from the ground is 40 inches, making its diameter well over a foot. It is far and away the most beautiful plant growing in our yard!

A. Barnes 4 years ago

Thank you so much for sharing your memories of this most beloved tree. It seems her reach was far beyond her branches.

Should your tree ever have offspring, we would love to have one to plant here, this time in the back of property where the apple orchard once was.

For the exact spot where the copper beech grew, we are looking to plant a mahogany tree. I know that they grow in Connecticut, I have a feeling that one would do very well in the beech’s former spot.

After the beech had been taken down, I measured across the trunk base that remained in the ground. It measured 6 feet wide by 4 feet 1 inch.