My life with trees

This Friday will be Ohio Arbor Day. A day set aside to celebrate trees and tree plantings. I have mixed emotions about the day — any day dedicated to trees is a joy, but this day also has a touch of sadness for me, which we will get to later. First the joy. Even though my training and profession has been agronomy for almost 50 years, I seriously considered forestry as a profession before switching to agronomy. I took the curriculum for a forestry degree at the University of Missouri for two years along with agronomy before I had to make a choice of one or the other. I favored forestry, but future job opportunities were few and most were in the Northwest fighting forest fires — I wanted to work with the hardwood trees of the Midwest. So, I decided to stay with agronomy since I would be working with plants, and the type of forestry jobs I wanted were difficult to get or non-existent. However, my desire to work with trees has never left. The wonder of trees was instilled in me by my dad. He too considered a forestry degree at the University of Missouri, but at the time, Missouri did not offer a four-year degree, and my grandparents could not afford to transfer him out of state to finish the degree. Instead, he finished with a degree in Agriculture. To this day, I cherish his 1930s dendrology textbook he used for his forestry class at MU. My dad taught me that to appreciate trees one needs to be able to identify them. The oak and hickory forests of the Missouri farm country were a great place to learn them. At an early age he taught me how to identify trees by their branching patterns, leaf numbers, and leaf shape. I learned about the trees on the family farm. The bee tree in the yard was a sugar maple, the lone tree in the chicken yard was a Kentucky coffee tree, the big sentinels along the hollow were burr oaks, the jelly trees were wild plum, the picnic tree, a catalpa, and so on. I even enjoyed the long walks to the 'back forty' where there was a locust grove planted for fence posts and a persimmon grove which was home for hungry opossums at fruit ripening time. One of my first Boy Scout merit badges was forestry. In 4-H, my main project was forestry. Many of my 4-H forestry displays were selected to go to the Missouri State Fair. I was a national winner in forestry which allowed me to be a Missouri delegate to the National 4-H Congress in Chicago, compliments of International Paper Company. My Boy Scout Eagle project was planting trees and landscaping the yard of the new Methodist parsonage. The Methodist Church was the sponsor of our Boy Scout troop. My Dad was there assisting and supporting me and teaching me about trees during all of these activities. My dad was always planting trees somewhere. He grew trees from seeds, healed young seedlings in the garden and assisted the community in obtaining trees from grants and other sources. I helped him dig up a young American hophornbeam tree above the creek at the family farm to plant in our yard. I have a tree in my yard that was a descendant from that tree to remind me of the family farm. The farm has since been lost to urbanization, and I am part of my family's last generation to be associated with it. My dad always said that communities were better because of trees. He was a big promoter of the Soil and Water Conservation District's annual seedling tree program and assisted my hometown in becoming a Tree City USA. He never missed the city's Arbor Day recognition program — even after he was no longer a city council member. Missouri recognized him as a State Arborist of the Year. And that is where Arbor Day also makes me feel sad. My mother called on Arbor Day April 25, 2008, to inform me that dad was not doing well. She said that he felt bad enough that he stayed home and did not participate in the Arbor Day program. I knew this was not good; he would not miss the program. My dad died less than two weeks later from cancer at 90 years of age. While I was home for the funeral, I went to parks and other places to see all the trees that he had planted during his lifetime. The city, in memorial, planted a tulip poplar in the city square park. But the story does not end here. A few years back, I attended my 45th high school class reunion. During the visit, I went to the city square park, the tulip poplar had grown significantly since it was planted. Many future generations will enjoy that tree. It will outlive me, and my grandchildren and their children can visit that park and see this living memorial for their great grandfather. I feel fortunate that Extension allows me to assist farmers with their corn, soybean, and wheat crops, but I am also grateful to work with trees, assist the Master Gardeners Volunteers with their landscaping projects, and work with great local landscape architects such as Tim Brugeman. We are blessed with wonderful parks in Hancock County. As you hike in our county parks and walk along our city streets, enjoy the majestic beauty and comforting shade of the trees. As you listen to the wind rustle their leaves, think of the history they have seen and the wisdom they could impart. I encourage you to participate in Arbor Day. Plant a tree to be enjoyed by the next generation. Get a book from the library on trees. Read a book about trees to your children. I would recommend Shel Silverstein's Giving Tree. See if that does not bring a tear to your eye. But most of all, as you look at a large, beautiful tree, remember that somebody, years ago, planted it for the enjoyment of future generations or as the ancient Greek proverb states: "A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they shall never sit." That's my story. I am grateful for a wonderful dad who introduced me to the world of trees, and I will remember him this Arbor Day. Ed Lentz is agriculture and natural resources educator with Ohio State University Extension — Hancock County.