Once upon a time Angelkeep had a pair of twin ash trees. Before Angelkeep even had been assigned a name, an excavated hole appeared that would one day be dubbed Angelpond. Chaney Brothers were politely asked to try to save several trees marked about five foot off the ground with fluorescent hot pink duct tape. The marked pair of large ash trees were saved, although left very near the edge of the 15-foot deep hole.
About half their roots were necessarily cut away making the pond. After about five years both began to suffer. Their branches intermingled, so near to each other were their positions, and they appeared to cling to each other as the end came for both at the same time. The earliest autopsy results assumed death had occurred due to the loss of too many roots. Malnutrition and dehydration killed the twin ash.
More years passed and the ash pair dried out, the bark cracked, and pieces began to fall off. Abundant grooves appeared underneath in the trunk’s wood changing the autopsy report to “death by Emerald Ash Borer.”
It resembled a David and Goliath story. A wee small bug killed the giant twin ash. Perhaps it was more of a tortoise and hare story since the death took several years.
One hundred years prior to the Angelkeep’s twin-ash murder story, ash trees hit page four of a Bluffton newspaper. Charles C. Deam arrived from his Indianapolis office to secure specimens for a scientific study of Indiana ash. Deam, a former Bluffton pharmacist, became a self-taught botanist so renowned that Hoosiers tagged him as the first Indiana State Forester. In that role, Deam, “plain ol’ Charlie Deam,” as he called himself, coordinated with Buck & Gutelius Handle Company of Bluffton to obtain 50 blocks or discs of ash for scientific study. Deam shipped them to Purdue University.
Angelkeep’s ash tree twins were not yet saplings when Deam sequestered ash samples. Angelkeep did have many large cottonwood trees that might have already been started back in June 1912 when the study’s ash discs were cut. For sure Angelkeep’s Osage orange trees were well established, having been planted as fence posts. They’d taken root at least half a century before Deam arrived. These Osage orange, or hedge apple trees, were cut off the Angelkeep perimeter by I & M Power. Ring counts proved some had taken root over a century and a half prior to their death in the 21st century.
Angelkeep’s twin ash limbs broke and fell, little by little. The trunks rotted bit by bit. Soon the two were no longer holding hands (branches.) Each stood on their own against nature’s attempt to topple them. In 2023, one fell half way, lodged against another ash a generation younger, it probably started by a seed of the very ash that fell. A woodsman and his chainsaw helped the ash to the ground. He cut a cord of fire wood. From there it would become ashes to ashes.
Bluffton’s handle factory had no Wells County timber purchased and ready for cutting when Deam arrived so he accepted whatever could be cut in Adams, Jay, or Blackford counties. Deam’s Purdue student assistants accompanied timber cutters with Deam personally superintending the cutting. Each tree providing a disc would be documented as to its location, soil type, and with the cuts taken at six feet off the ground, would have their rings counted for a record of their age. All of the data would assist the Purdue scientists, and Deam, in determining the best and most rapid growing conditions for ash. “Ash had been declared the most profitable tree to be planted for the market.”
Angelkeep ash continue to grow from seeds. Once they get to a near mature stage, Emerald Ash Borers find them and do their dastardly deed. Angelkeep yet holds onto one original ash left at the north edge of Angelpond. Bark falls off the west side of the trunk. Insect bored groves show in the trunk. Yet, half of the tree continues to fight on. Half continues to leaf each year. It’s been fighting death two decades. In this case the hare is keeping one hop ahead of the tortoise.
Charlie Deam’s education in botany began through E. B. Williamson when E. B. was age 19. They became buddies to the end, like Angelkeep’s twin ash. More of the Deam and Williamson relationship will be explained at an “Edward Bruce Williamson – Bluffton History” book program at Wells County Public Library at 6:30 p.m. January 16. Please attend to hear more about Bluffton’s dynamic duo. Bring your own Deam and Williamson stories along. News-Banner has that book available in the office.
History proved Deam and Williamson saved a Deam Oak tree. Not true with ash.
The end nears for the lonely twin ash tree yet standing at Angelkeep. Its base rots from the inside. One day it will join its twin on a pile forming a cord of wood. A cozy hearth fire or campfire will ensue.
Ashes to ashes.
Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”
