Memories

There stood, in our side yard, east of the house, a large Ash tree. It was probably as old as the house, which was built around 1885, or so. The tree was very large, and had held, on one straight and strong limb, a long chain swing. It had a hand made, wooden seat, worn smooth from the years of wear. The swing was hung, when mother was a girl. Every child, and grandchild, swung on that wonderful swing. I use to dream lots of dreams, as I flew back and forth. I would pump and swing as high as possible. To swing back, high enough to see over the limb, was quite a feat. To swing forward to touch the leaves of another limb with my feet was real exciting. Then, you could let the “cat die”. That meant that you could just relax and slow down, until the swing completely stopped, as you just sort of hung there, legs dangling beneath the swing seat. At other times, I would swing high, and feel the breeze in my face! Sometimes, I would jump out as it came forward, but not high enough to be over the limb, and fly through the air and land on my feet. The old swing was the main point of the yard, especially when cousins and friends came to play. It was a race to the swing, and “don’t swing so long, it’s my turn!” Also fun was swinging double. One person sat on the swing, and another person, a smaller child, would sit on her lap sitting in the opposite direction-facing toward the first person. Then, we would pump the swing or be pushed by another cousin. How precious were the times spent on that old swing, as a child? As a grown up, I placed my children on it and watched my kids and their cousins race for the swing calling out, “my turn!” The big ash tree was part of our family for nearly 90 years. One day, in 1981, a huge portion of it came down in a summer storm. Later that same year, we had to cut the rest of the tree down. It was as if the tree was saying, “I do not want to be cut down! I will not be cut down!” It was nearly a day long job to cut this old ash tree down with a gasoline operated, undersized, 14” chain saw. The tree was notched, so that when it fell, it would fall away from the house. It was about 4 feet in diameter, and as the saw cut through the tree, a huge section, that you could look through was cut out of the tree. That was the notch that was used to control the fall. The notched area was cut over half way through the tree, and still it would not fall. After cutting a diagonal slice above the notch and toward the notch, within a few inches of the notch, it still would not fall. I was amazed! The weight of the tree was toward the notch, and yet, it did not move! It was not until the chain saw got within an inch of the notch that the tree finally let out a loud noise in the form of a sharp snap! It sounded like a rifle shot! POW! It finally gave in, and fell slowly to the ground, with a thunderous crash! Later, the tree branches and wood from the tree were cut into pieces that would fit into our fireplace insert wood burner. The wood was allowed to age, and, after it was seasoned, it was used as firewood for the winter. The old Ash Swing Tree was a hard wood and long burning. It provided heat for the next winter. The wood was so hard, that, a piece of it demolished a wood splitter, which was highly touted as a great splitter. The salesman was certain that he had a great splitter. Willing to make the purchase upon demonstration, the splitter engaged the wood from the old ash tree, and broke the splitter into pieces. The old swing tree got in the last word! And so, it was the last of the Swing Tree. The center of dreams was ended, and so was the fun for a hundred cousins, over decades of time. It was a period, dating back to my mother’s time, when she was a child, and the old Swing Tree was enjoyed through my childhood, and it was enjoyed by all of my children, my sister’s children, and many, many other cousins, relatives, and friends. Yes, the center of dreams was over. After the tree was down, and, while we were cutting the branches from the old ash tree, to our surprise, a lucky horseshoe was found inside the limb, that we had swung upon, so many times, before. It was, and is, a lasting memento, from a memorable age, that is no more. The yard and house suddenly appeared naked, without the big, old ash tree, and a piece of our hearts, was gone with it.