Famous Tree

The tree I am searching for has passed away. It was cut down for progress but I wonder if there may have been another motive. I know it thrived along Main Street in the sprawling new city in Southwest Florida in the late 1800s. Fort Myers was just awakening from the solitude and routine of the wilderness. The few Indians and far more alligators and panthers were in charge before wealthy developers decided this was a great area to do business. The fur traders, cattlemen and lumbermen knew a good deal when they saw it. Snowbirds would soon follow. 

In this rapidly growing area at the extreme end of a young country, many individuals gathered on the streets- dusty in the winter, muddy in the summer. In order to promote civility and order the founding fathers planted many oaks along with the palms and cypress trees. The line of trees along Main Street announced the wilderness was tamed and this was a place to live and to do business. Ships sailed up the river to bring rum, sugarcane and coffee from the islands; cattle, hardware and clothing were loaded for the return. 

The oaks flourished along with the people of many cultures and classes. Indians participated in fur trading, cattlemen braved swamps, fires and hurricanes to deliver cattle that grazed in the swamps and fields as they marched their way to the docks for shipping all over the east coast and into the Caribbean islands. Bankers, butchers, blacksmiths and politicians all drank and ate in the bars and cafes in town. Children attended the schoolhouse down the street and a little library brought knowledge to all. Deals were made and broken. Power was gained and lost. 

As the city grew, so did the massive oak trees that lined the downtown streets. I imagine from pictures and history that the tree I seek was located in the block adjacent to the bank which was originally a bustling hotel for businessmen, politicians and wealthy winter tourists.  Women looked for new fashions in the main street department store windows as they carried colorful parasols to ward off the hot sun. Men sported mustaches and bowler hats as they smoked cigars and chatted about the latest prices for cattle, nails and lumber. 

If the famous tree could talk it would smile and recall the stories of travel, adventure and arguments over land and animals. It would sway gently as it recalled lovers embracing and planning their future under its limbs. It would smile too as it recalled scores of children running, climbing and pulling on an arm to hurry their journey to the candy store around the corner. 

But I imagine this famous tree would turn slightly in the breeze, away from an ugly day in 1927. My tree was an unwilling accomplice to murder. No longer will two 14 year old Negro boys swim and flirt with a white girl in the town pool. Their near lifeless bodies were beaten and dragged through town and then hung on these massive branches. 

The Hanging Tree was removed many years ago, ostensibly to make way for the hotel expansion but perhaps for other reasons. The incident was nearly completely ignored and nobody was ever held accountable. The Hanging Tree has never been mentioned since that dark day until recently when its history was reborn at the hands of a curious local newspaper reporter. I think the ghost-like tree’s shadow still darkens the sidewalk. I imagine the tree would like to share its story.