Is there ever a requiem for a tree?
This fall, the skies somber for sure, a huddled chorus of leaves weeping, the city will unveil its first tribute to Sacramento trees. It's about time.
Consider the philanthropy of city trees - the grace, the shade, the stature. How viewed from the air, or even the passing freeway, they saturate the landscape with an invigorating green. They offer relief from the caustic sun, form sculpture in the dead of winter.
Consider the city without trees.
In a word, Reno.
The memorial will largely commemorate the English elm, which many appreciative people consider Sacramento's signature tree. Often exceeding 120 feet in height, its canopy of leaves encompassing entire city blocks, the English elm, and its strapping cousin, the American elm, is a kind of urban sequoia.
It is the one tree, giant and aspiring, that most distinguishes the city.
It is the one tree, rotted and geriatric, that is most endangered. Sadly, its days are numbered.
Appropriately enough, the memorial will be installed in Cesar Chavez Plaza at Ninth and J streets, with its statues and fountain to famous men, near where a heritage English elm once towered. The memorial will consist of a bronze casting of an actual elm core, propped up for view, its ancient rings plotted with a timeline of major and minor events in city history.
So many autumns. The elms, thousands planted in the 1880s, witnessed a century of events. The elms, rooted and stalwart, survived fire, floods, storms, the whims of urban renewal. But not the burden of time.
Today, after years of battling age and the cancer of Dutch elm disease, the city elms are sick and dying.
"I call them our senior citizens," says City Arborist Dan Pskowski. "They are the largest trees and provide the most benefits. But they have decay. Sometimes it's hard to see. Sometimes, I have to get in a bucket (crane) and go up to examine the trees."
Right now, says Pskowski, who knows each tree personally, there are exactly 1,076 legacy elms left in the downtown corridor. And they're being removed at a steady clip, an average of 50 trees a year.
This isn't to suggest Sacramento is at risk of being denuded. The elms are being replaced by less disease-susceptible trees, such as valley oak and sycamore. Overall, the city tree department maintains 250,000 street and park trees. Within the city limits, there are upwards of 1 million trees.
But they are not English or American elms. The city will never glory in such leafy cathedrals again.
How about an eulogy, then, to the elm?
"I don't have a tree poem," laments city poet laureate Jose Montoya, who walks Capitol Park every morning and communes with the pines. "But there is anguish for me in seeing the elm trees go.
"I live downtown and we lost two elms on our street in 1987. What a difference those trees made, in shading my house, in providing a scenic landscape for the neighborhood."
He pauses, considers.
"I guess the reason I haven't sat down and written a poem is because I would probably start bawling," says Montoya. "They are so majestic."
In June 2001, on an otherwise normal summer day, a branch snapped off a heat-distressed elm in Fremont Park, killing a 11-month-old baby in a stroller.
It was a horrible, freakish accident. But it prompted the city to check the status of all its elms. Upon examination, the six remaining elms out of eight that framed the four corners to Cesar Chavez Plaza were deemed unsafe and scheduled for removal.
"It was one of the worst decisions I ever had to make, in wearing both my hats as president of the Sacramento Tree Foundation and as a city councilman," says Ray Tretheway, whose council district includes Cesar Chavez Plaza. "To tag those trees and take them out. It just seemed inconceivable."
In July 2002, a crew of lumberjacks working in 90-foot cranes methodically dismantled the elms, dropping 20-foot sections to earth. All told, 120 tons of wood were removed. The six stumps, big as VW Beetles, were ground to the soil line.
But one big slice was saved.
Artist Kerry Crutcher's home and studio is located in a corrugated metal barn, along a back alley off 19th Street. Inside is a concrete floor, chicken-wire windows, racks of tools and drill presses.
Everywhere, this fine talc of sawdust.
On a work table is the raw makings of the memorial - a huge slab of elm, 8 inches thick, 6 feet in diameter, its outer bark having the charred exterior of a good grilled steak.
There is no discernible rot. At the core of the massive slice is a dark, lightening bolt streak of cracking. There are a few knots and defects. But there are no easily computable concentric circles of age or years. More this irregular, wavy pattern, like fissures in a frozen winter pond.
"It looked more like a memorial to chain-saw art," joked Crutcher when a crew of city tree workers hefted the 1,200-pound cadaver into the studio. The slab's surface was gouged, rough-hewn. "We tried to make it look more like a tree than a tabletop. We wanted to emphasize the grain and the texture."
The idea for the memorial came from Mayor Heather Fargo and Tretheway, both of whom have long championed a tree constituency. The $16,000 project is being paid for out of the two officials' discretionary funds, plus some monies from city parks and recreation. In many ways, it is a piece of public art.
"It is a memorial that gives people a sense of place, a sense of time, a sense of Sacramento," says Tretheway. "It will remind people that those trees have seen a lot of history pass beneath their canopies."
Crutcher, 57, assisted by fellow artist and sculptor Garr Ugalde, 45, have spent weeks this summer sanding the surface, filling deep cracks with putty, and preparing the slice for casting. They have also compiled a serious and whimsical timeline of city events, from 1885 to 2002, which, in label form, will be affixed to the core's surface.
The dedication is scheduled for mid-October. The bronze slice will be propped up on a stand at an angle. Viewers can stop and peruse the legend, rather like reading a big roadside monument. The two artists are also making a resin cast of the project, which will be on view at this year's State Fair.
"How many trees do you see of this magnitude?" says Crutcher, considering nature's own art. "You'll never see a tree trunk larger than this. Really, it's Sacramento in a nutshell."
What is the memorial saying?
"To me it sends a message to the next generation," says Tretheway. "That the future of the urban forest is up to them. The urban forest is under siege. We are going to lose more and more of these legacy trees."
The bronze elm slice to be installed this fall in Cesar Chavez Plaza will include a historic timeline of the city from 1885 to 2002. Some milestones include:
1895: Folsom Powerhouse lights Sacramento.
1909: City Hall built at 915 I St.
1916: Yolo Causeway opens.
1922: William Land Park established.
1935: Tower Bridge opens.
1938: Windstorm causes loss of 1,000 trees.
1949: Crest Theatre reopens.
1955: Folsom Dam completed.
1974: First Dixieland Jazz Festival.
1985: Kings move to Sacramento.
1990: Dutch elm disease arrives in Sacramento.
2002: Valley oaks replace elms in Cesar Chavez Plaza.
Source: City of Sacramento
Artists Garr Ugalde, left, and Kerry Crutcher attach a plaque to the massive slice that was taken from one of the elms that once stood in Cesar Chavez Plaza. The slice will be bronzed and placed in the park at a dedication ceremony in October. Legends attached to the surface mark important dates in Sacramento history and how the tree, more than a century old, grew along with the city.
Sacramento Bee/Randy Pench
Ray Tretheway, Sacramento Tree Foundation executive director and City Council member, answers questions about the removal of the elms. Sacramento Bee/Randy Pench