Oldest Tree Destroyed

In this 1920s image, two men gave an indication of the girth of the Senator, named after Senator M. O. Overstreet, who donated land for a park in 1927.  The 3,500 year old tree was destroyed last week.  Authorities still do not know what caused the fire that killed the beloved tree.

In Flash of Fire, Florida Loses Old Friend

By LIZETTE ALVAREZ

LONGWOOD, Fla. — Back, way back, before King Tut was born and Alexander the Great roamed his empire, the Senator sprouted in a swamp here in central Florida, one of thousands of its kind.

So on Monday, when word got out that the huge, 3,500-year-old bald cypress (Taxodium distichum to scientists) had burned and collapsed, people from the area who thought that nothing — not hurricanes, not loggers, not disease — could fell the Senator, sank into disbelief. In a state known for its sprawl and its zeal for pouring concrete, the Senator stood as a testament to nature and ancient history. It was one of the oldest trees in the country and, at 118 feet, one of the tallest east of the Mississippi.

The Senator held its venerable ground 3,000 years before Columbus sailed to America, 2,500 years before William conquered England, 2,000 years before the fall of Rome, 1,500 years before the birth of Christ, and 500 years before the reign of King David.  How odd to consider that something that lasted so long and endured so much came to its end in our lifetime.

Above:  The tree before the fire.  It stood in a park off of a busy highway lined

with auto dealerships and strip malls. . . ignored by most who passed.  In the 1980s

there was an artesian well at the site of the park where people would stop to fill up

jugs of water thinking them the stuff of the mythical fountain of youth.

“There is so little of this old history left,” said Lauren Wyckoff, 28, an environmental scientist and self-described tree hugger, who drove to Big Tree Park from nearby Orlando after work to pay her respects. “It’s not just some tree in your backyard. I mean, it’s 3,500 years old; I just picture everything it saw, everything it has been through.  I’m crying,” she said, with a laugh, as her eyes reddened. “When I first came here, I had no idea it would be as amazing as it was. No idea it would be as impactful.”

Although a state investigator said Monday he was not convinced it was the work of an arsonist, the state Division of Forestry said Tuesday that arson may have played a part.

"We're not ruling anything out at this time," said Cliff Frazier, a spokesman for the agency. "It's like a crime scene. … But however long it takes, we'll get to the bottom of it."

Investigators for the Division of Forestry are still trying to figure out how the tree burned down.   Arson remains a possibility.   Two other possible theories are being considered: the tree was struck by lightning long before Monday (maybe as long as two weeks) and slowly smoldered from the inside, or friction from the wind caused it to combust.  The lightning theory is implausible as there has been virtually no rain in the area since mid-December.

An undated image of the tree

Around town, these last two theories were met with skepticism and a touch of derision. The Senator, which was the only tree in the small park to catch fire, was equipped with a lightning rod. And if the tree had been struck by lightning and smoldered for two weeks, residents said, somebody surely would have seen or smelled it. As for friction, that notion drew nothing but smirks.

“Of course, maybe a plane flew over and dropped an ember into the hole,” Rick Waters, 49, who runs Mel’s Family Diner in Sanford, a couple of miles from the tree’s resting place, said with a chuckle.  

Firefighters putting out the fire in the ancient tree.  It was the only tree in the area

to catch fire.  The tree was equipped with a lightning rod to protect it from 

thunderstorms . . . though there have been no such storms in the area for some time.

The revered tree wasn’t just old; it was huge. At nearly 18 feet in diameter, it was so large it would take a passel of children holding hands to surround it.

Named for Senator M. O. Overstreet, who donated the land to Seminole County to use as a park in 1927, the Senator has long been a landmark for Floridians. It survived the logging epidemic, which claimed many of the giant trees that once stood in the county. (The Senator may have been spared because it was hollow, a condition that occurred as the tree aged).   It endured centuries of nasty hurricanes, including one in 1925 that lopped off 40 feet from the top.

Back then, four decades before Disney World rose from swampland, the towering bald cypress was the star attraction in these parts. Visitors arrived on horse and buggy and then jumped from log to log to get a close-up glimpse of the tree.

“You could see it from pretty much everywhere around here” it was so tall, said Joseph R. Abel, the director of the Leisure Services Department in Seminole County.

Now children are brought here on field trips to gawk skyward and imagine what Florida was like back when it was nothing but forest and swamp and Indians were its only inhabitants. Families have always come to snap photos, and nature-lovers arrived on pilgrimages.

The tree burning and charred.

What remains now is a trunk, split in half, and a charred shard of wood that shoots 30 feet into the air. The remnants of the tree lie split, on their sides, black and sooty. Outside the gates of the park sits a little tribute of flowers with a sign reading “Rest in Peace Senator.” The park is closed for now as investigators determine what caused the fire.

But the new Florida had long been a too-quick walk away from the Senator. Traffic whizzes by in front of the park and fast-food joints sit right up the street. And though the tree was revered by some, competition from modern life had dwarfed its appeal a good while back.

Visitors in 1935 admire The Senator.

There are not many awe-inspiring things left, Ms. Wyckoff said. “It was crazy, insane, you can’t imagine how large it was,” she said.

President Calvin Coolidge and his wife appear to stand in front of The Senator

at the dedication of Big Tree Park in 1929.  In reality, their image was pasted

onto a picture of the tree -- and the altered photo was published in newspapers of the time.

Yet only 40 feet from the Senator looms an understudy: Lady Liberty, estimated to be 2,000 years old, is now the park’s tallest cypress. It is 89 feet tall and not nearly as imposing, but in this time of transitory celebrity, its moment has arrived.

Seminole County parks officials said they may build a memorial to the Senator.  The memorial probably would be built from the remains of the tree.  The county's Leisure Services Department has received many calls from artists, craftsmen and memorabilia hunters seeking a piece of the tree.  County officials said it is too early to say what will happen to the remains.

"We're trying to see what we can do to salvage some of the wood that wasn't burned and what to do for a memorial," said Jim Duby, a program manager for the Seminole County department.