Tree Stories: Grandma’s tree

by Erin Santacroce, for the Quincy Tree Alliance. Also published in The Quincy Sun in late 2023

In December of 2020, I lost my grandmother to Covid. She was 103 years old. One may think her time was probably up, but this woman was still in great health, dressing to the nines, walking with a snazzy walker, texting with emojis, writing on my Facebook wall, and enjoying life to its fullest. 

My beautiful grandma, Colette Santacroce

She was an artist, a mother of three, a college graduate at the age of 76, and had a beautifully feisty and fun presence. She was the life of the party, a storyteller, a wonderful cook, and loved her family. She was an inspiration to everyone around her. 

When the opportunity came to plant a tree in her honor, it seemed like the perfect way to unite my love for nature and my love for her in one enduring tribute. 

In October 2021, the 4C Tree Quincy group organized a tree planting at Passanageset Park at Broad Meadows Marsh (150 trees), and Monroe Park (50 trees). The city of Quincy provided the trees, some tools, and some very brief “instructions” for planting: dig hole, remove tree from pot, plant. 

On top of the sparse instructions, it felt like the selected planting locations might have been chosen in error; we had to trudge through mud and thick phragmites to get to our designated planting areas. Stakes represented the areas in which "a tree” was to be planted, but there was no direction as to which trees should be planted where. There was no soil provided for planting, nor any water (although it was already very muddy). 

Undeterred, a group of about 30 of us spent backbreaking hours planting over a hundred trees, memorializing loved ones by placing painted rocks at the base of the trees, bearing a sentiment or name of a family member. 

The author, Erin Santacroce, with her grandma’s memorial tree

I planted a black gum tree. I was so proud of it. It stood high at the top of the hill. I imagined my family coming to see it, sitting under its shade, memorializing my grandma. I visited the site frequently, sending my family updates a few times. 

But all the while, I started to notice the trees weren’t doing well. I addressed this with the city and with the 4C Tree Quincy group. Despite multiple inquiries as to who was responsible for maintaining these saplings, the trees didn't get the basic maintenance needed to get through their first critical years. 

On average, newly planted saplings have an 18 percent chance of dying during the first year. They need gallons of supplemental watering per week, even in a typical year, and the summer of 2022 was one of the driest in a generation. 

The tree in February 2023

Now, unfortunately, about half of those trees have met their demise. Two separate inventories performed on the trees in February 2023 (one by an arborist, one by myself) found that between 48 and 51 percent of the Covid memorial trees planted at both Passanageset and Monroe Parks have died. 

In June, I could barely get through the chest-high weeds to the top of the hill, where my grandmother’s tree was planted. My heart broke once more. Her tree has died, along with many more that represented the lives of loved ones lost to Covid. 

The tree had died by June 2023

It didn’t have to be that way — with better planning, better planting instruction, better communication, and better watering and maintenance, the outcome could have been different. Working together, I hope we can make sure this doesn’t happen again. 

I appreciate that the city permitted us to put trees on public property — but regret that their commitment seemed to end there. Planting trees isn't just a one-day photo op or public relations stunt. It's an infrastructure investment, one that will cool and clean our city's air, reduce storm runoff and erosion, and improve our residents' health. The city needs to do all it can to ensure its new trees live to be grand old ones — so that, like my grandma, they can inspire future generations, even at 103 years old. 

Is there a special tree in Quincy that means a lot to you? Submit your 600-word Tree Story to quincytreealliance@gmail.com.

Tree stories: Ode to the maple

by Ann-Marie Amendolare, for the Quincy Tree Alliance. Published in The Quincy Sun

I look through my kitchen window

Where I see the Maple Tree ~~

And for some compelling reason

She means a lot to me.

A Crimson King Red Maple ~~

It’s a brooding shade of red.

Not a fragrance ~~ nor a flower ~~

No beauty ‘round her head.

We planted her when Jane was nine

The day the swings came down;

A little twig of tiny leaves

Attached to a stick of brown.

She grew like an umbrella,

Joe trimmed her top just so;

Her sparkling lights at Christmas time

Made our backyard glow.

But after all these many years

Of faithfully being there,

Our special tree got very sick

And needed special care.

We called the best tree doctor ~~

He sprayed her withered leaves,

He fertilized her dying roots,

He said, “I’m good with trees.”

We had to do this every year,

But she is standing tall.

She’s full, she’s red, she’s beautiful ~~

She’s the dearest tree of all.

I soon could see beyond the glass

My living memory;

And I could stand beneath her shade

And say, “I Love You, Tree!”

So many years have passed since then ~~

As years are wont to do.

I’ve moved away ~~ I’ve left that house ~~

I’ve lost that joyful view.

Now when I pause where she still stands,

I hope she knows it’s me. 

I see her ~~ I remember her ~~

I sigh, “I Miss You, Tree!” 

Is there a special tree in Quincy that means a lot to you? Submit your 600-word Tree Story to quincytreealliance@gmail.com. 

Tree stories: Flurry of petals from my Yoshino Cherry

by Vivian Le, North Quincy High School, for the Quincy Tree Alliance. Published in The Quincy Sun.

For as long as I’ve lived in Quincy, my yard has been full of many species of trees. Some of them bloomed beautifully, in hues of scarlet red and gentle pink. But for me, one tree stood out from the rest. 

The Yoshino cherry tree is a cherry blossom tree that has been living in my front yard for as long as I can remember. According to my dad, the tree is only two years younger than me, planted around 2012. Its resistance to abnormal weather is admirable: Even as a very young tree, it managed to survive the snowstorms of early 2015, bursting back to life that spring despite having been buried beneath many feet of snow; then, last summer, it weathered one of the worst droughts in decades. Despite those obstacles, the tree has bloomed every year without fail. 

The brilliant petals that bloom on our cherry blossom tree every year are a reminder of its vibrant history. 

The Yoshino cherry blossom tree originated in Japan but was later planted internationally, including in America. In fact, back in 1912 — one hundred years before the tree in my own yard was planted — a Japanese chemist named Dr. Jokichi Takamine arranged a gift of some 3,000 Yoshino and other cherry trees from the city of Tokyo to the United States. That gift sparked the blooming idea of the National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C. 

The annual festival celebrates the fleeting beauty of nature and the Yoshino cherry tree. Similar to the traditional cherry blossoms in Japan, it is one of the first cherry trees to bloom in the spring, bursting with blossoms from late March into early April. Every year, it blooms with a gorgeous gradient of snow white and sakura pink petals. The blossoms exude a sweet flowery perfume that attracts various birds and butterflies. Small Yoshino cherries are often found on its branches, but are much too bitter for humans to eat. In early summer, glossy emerald leaves emerge from the bare branches, and in autumn, the leaves migrate to dusty yellow, red, and orange. The Yoshino cherry blossom tree is breathtaking to anyone who sets their sights upon it, but it is also personally meaningful to me. 

In 2010, when we moved into my current house, the past owners had left it in disarray, with poison ivy in the backyard and plenty of overgrown plants and trees. My parents worked from the ground up to renovate the house and make it a suitable place for me and my brother to live our childhoods. It was during that process that they planted the Yoshino cherry tree in the front yard. I was just a toddler, but I distinctly remember placing down a scoopful of dirt to cover the mess of roots, and watering the budding petals. When I stepped back to admire the sight, I was entranced by the idea that it would grow up with me. I could often tell the seasons just by looking at the tree, which I liked to do every time I came home from school. In spring, the white-pink petals, emerging bit by bit every time I looked, were a reassuring sight, taking me back to my memories of the tree since that first day. 

A few years ago, the city had to remove a larger cherry blossom tree near the Yoshino cherry tree, as it was blocking a nearby traffic-light camera. At that time, I was upset because that tree had been there even longer than I had been living in the house. Whenever I look at the Yoshino tree, I am reminded of the old tree — and it's comforting to know the Yoshino cherry blossom tree is still blooming for spring in front of my eyes.

I’m not the only one in my family comforted by the tree’s beautiful blossoms and foliage. My mom lived in Japan during high school, and said the Yoshino cherry tree reminded her of those years. It’s given me a touch of insight to her experiences in a far-off country. 

The Yoshino cherry tree has a long and brilliant history enriched with traditions around new beginnings. But it’s also salient to me personally, as it reminds me of the seasons passing and the start of my own home in a new place. 

Is there a special tree in Quincy that means a lot to you? Submit your 600-word Tree Story to quincytreealliance@gmail.com.