an oak in st. elmo

Our neighborhood, historic St. Elmo on the south side of Chattanooga and at the foot of Lookout Mountain, is one of the oldest neighborhoods in town. I vaguely remember someone referring to it as the original suburb of Chattanooga. 

The old houses stand along three avenues that run for twenty blocks or so, and range from bungalows, to Victorian monsters, to architectural mishmashes that have sprung up or evolved over the hundred plus year life of our little community.

As full of character as the houses may be, they wouldn't be the same without the massive trees that stand in our yards and line our streets. I have yet to find out if some of these giants were planted early in the 20th century after a clear cut, or if some were left standing from the forest that was here before the land was developed.

Anyways, it's inevitable that a city tree's life span will be capped by it's tough environment - air pollution, root disruption from construction of homes, tree houses, the occasional homeowner with a chainsaw. Considering these and other factors, trees are remarkably resilient and have numerous ways of adapting to their environment and healing themselves, which is why there are oaks and maples and sycamores throughout St. Elmo that have grown quite huge, some with trunk diameter's pushing four feet. That's why, treehugger or not, we'd all agree that it's sad to see one of the giants go.

Our neighbors a block away are having this giant oak removed by a local tree company - Robert's Tree Service. What a small world. I have a theory that once the wild, wild west was settled and became corn farms, suburbs, and ski resorts, all of the cowboys and outlaws had nothing dangerous to do, no ruckuses to raise, no taverns to tear apart in senseless brawls. So, what did they do with themselves? They bought a bunch of chainsaws and woodchippers and started tree companies.

Why is this oak being removed? Apparently, the small house at the bottom of the tree is being lifted off of it's foundation by the oak's sprawling roots. It also has serious rot throughout the main trunk's cambium and heartwood. It's only a matter of time before it falls on its own and causes serious damage to two houses beneath it, obviously, considering it's canopy covers somewhere around 2,000 square feet of ground space.

I've taken up the hobby of naming the trees around town. (You can roll your eyes now.) I like to think this tree was here before St. Elmo was developed, before roads were cut and the frames of houses were raised. In light of this oak's efforts to pick up the house built on top of it's roots and (if life were a comic strip) slide it off the hill so that it rolled down Hawkins Ridge and smashed into a mess of shingle and vinyl siding on Tennessee Ave., I've named this one "You're Not Welcome Here."