Bulletin Article - November 2006

OUR GRAND ASH
by Robert Marshall

Our specimen ash tree at the rear of Greenfield Hall suffered a direct hit in a powerful thunderstorm during the late evening of Thursday, July 27, 2006, at 11:20 p.m.  For those of you who had been away for the summer, this was the same night that a massive oak at the front of the Episcopal Church was downed by a bolt, closing King Highway during the early morning rush hour while emergency crews removed the lumber. 

A view of the aftermath indicates that our white ash was struck at the crown, arcing over to several lead branches as well as a roof newel. Painted pieces of the post were found on the neighboring residential property bordering to the west and chunks of limbs were found across Kings Highway.  One limb, approximately 10 inches in diameter and 7 feet long, was embedded vertically beneath the tree to a depth of 16 inches, sending quite a message of the need to take cover during a storm.  To add to our woe, we discovered, two weeks into the August drought, that the lightning had destroyed our lawn irrigation control system. 

We had our insurance company and four tree companies survey the wreckage.  While the tree had shown signs of having been hit years ago, this particular hit split the bark of the main trunk on both north and south sides, completely blew off the bark at the crown, and blasted a wide-gapped crack in a 16 inch lead limb. 

We were advised that a lightning strike vaporizes tree sap, which violently expands the tree bark. The ultimate conclusion was that the tree should be removed for safety reasons because of the lightning strike.  Weighing into our consideration of these opinions was the serious decline in the tree that we have witnessed since June of 2001.  For the last five years, the tree would lose its leaves in June and produce a second growth of smaller leaves a few weeks later.  One diagnosis was that the tree was simply reaching the end of its life span.  We were also prepared to have the tree tested for Ash Yellows, a disease of rapid decline for which there are no treatments for prevention or cure.

The emergency work was scheduled with Lyon & Son Tree Service of Barrington for Thursday, August 31 and Friday, September 1, 2006.  The Borough police approved the closure of Kings Lane and the residents were alerted to travel Sylvan Lane in the opposite direction for the day and half of tree work. 

The Board and Garden Club convened a "Farewell to the Grand Ash," with a champagne toast on the evening of August 30, 2006 at 7:30 PM. In attendance were Dianne Snodgrass, Betty Lyons, Ruth Sine, Connie McCaffrey, Jean Nunneville, Jan Twitchell, John Burmaster, Connie and Ed Reeves, Dinny Traver and Bob Marshall.  We measured the circumference at approximately 16 feet and registered uneducated guestimates of the age, ranging from a low of 100 to a high of 273 years.  We said our goodbyes with a poem, "For Our Tree," which was authored and read by Board Trustee Connie McCaffrey.
 
Thursday morning arrived with minor threats of possible thunderstorms.  Instead, it was just a cool gray day at 8:00 AM when Lyon Tree Service arrived with crane, chipper, saws and crew.  The climber was hoisted into place to tie-off each selected limb as it was carefully cut and maneuvered gently to the street below.  At times, the crane's arm reached its labeled heights of 94 feet, which was still short of the top of the tree.  As heavy branches were removed, it exposed a limb that had been split by the lightning, creating a three-inch wide crack extending over 12 feet in length.

To add strength to the weakening upper reaches, our tree had been professionally "cabled" in three lead limbs ten years before. As one of these cables was cut, a frightening snap was heard from the outer wood at the base of this 16 – 24 inch limb that had suffered the brunt of the lightning strike.  By 4:45 PM, the tree had been reduced to a 7 feet-in-diameter stump, which exposed a 2-½ foot decayed center.
 
Any reluctance or reservations about the decision to remove our grand ash disappeared.  The concerns for safety had been confirmed.    Bob Marshall twice counted the rings of the tree. Without announcement, Dianne Snodgrass did the same.  Our grand ash was between 96 and 100 years old, the reported natural lifespan of the species, and the estimate of Ruth Sine the evening before.

For all of us there, the grand ash has been with each of us, forever.  And for the first time in a hundred years, we will have to enjoy the winter's tale without you.