Mercer Oak

Traffic into Princeton seemed unusually slow this afternoon when we were driving in to pick up Tab. As we drove by the Princeton Battlefield, I saw why. The Mercer Oak, a 300-year-old tree and beloved Princeton landmark, had finally lost its own battle to stay upright. It looked as though the tree had been split down the middle by a giant cleaver. It must have happened during the day because we drove by the battlefield this morning and the tree was still standing then.

The tree got its name from General Mercer who was mortally wounded in the Battle of Princeton during the Revolutionary War. Supposedly, Mercer didn't want to leave the battlefield while the fight was still on so he was propped up beneath the tree until the battle was over.

The Mercer Oak was ailing for a number of years. Thirty years ago, park officials poured cement into the hollow, rotting part of the tree. More recently the oak was girded with reinforcing cables. I guess the windy weather we've been having these past few days delivered the death blow.

Although it was not unexpected, the collapse of the Mercer Oak feels almost like the loss of a beloved, elderly relative. I've driven by it twice a day for years and never failed to admire it.

I'm not the only one to feel that way, either. Cars were pulling off the road and parking by the battlefield. The small groups of people standing around the tree resembled mourners at a wake. Even the cars that did not stop traveled slowly down Mercer Street, looking like a kind of funeral procession.

This morning the local paper ran a front page article about the demise of the tree. The article mentions a company specializing in historical trees that sells seedlings from the Mercer Oak. Maybe one day when we have a house with some land, we can plant a Mercer Oak seedling.

 

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Saturday
March 4, 2000

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Reading: Traveling Mercies. I finished it today. I liked it--but then again I've like everything I've read by Anne Lamott. I admire her honesty and her hard-won, tenuous-at-times, but always genuine faith.

One year ago: The boys raced on ahead of me, stopped, circled, ran back, and then dashed ahead again as if they too were being blown along in fits and starts by the wind.


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