It’s not part of the deal, but fortunately the owners of the property that essentially surrounds the Deam Oak Monument Forest at the corner of Ind. 116 and County Road 250 North have apparently had appreciation for the tree’s significance. That has certainly been true of the current occupants, Charles Petty, Jr. and his wife Cindy, who bought the property in 2001.

Chuck Petty and his wife Cindy maintain the neighboring Deam Oak Monument Forest in exchange for an annual state park pass. The new seedling — just on the other side of the wooden fence that borders the small park — was planted by Doug Sundling in 2014 but has not experienced the same growth as its counterparts because, Sundling believes, it is too heavily shaded. The “original” Deam Oak is in the far background. (Photo by Mark Miller)

Charles — he goes by “Chuck” — had a unique understanding since his father, Charles, Sr., had owned the property since 1974. Chuck Petty says his father installed one of those steel-post-mounted barbecue units that are found in parks as well as a horseshoe pit in the northeast corner of the site. Those fixtures are no longer there, but Chuck continues to mow and trim the property while Cindy gathers the fallen limbs and twigs. In exchange, they get an annual state park pass.

The stone parking lot to the east of the site is almost entirely on their land. Only about five feet of parking space actually belongs to the state, which means that visitors almost have to use Petty’s land to walk the site. But that’s fine with Chuck. “It’s just not been a problem,” he said.

Chuck and Cindy were married under the large tree, and they’ve hosted a few high school graduation parties there over the years. And there is other activity.

“Workers from across the street at River Terrace Estates,” he continued, “they’ll come over and have lunch on the picnic tables.”

He estimates that they see at least one person or car stopping each week on average.

“They’ll get out and walk around; take some pictures,” he said. He recalled one lady who knocked on his door and asked if he would send her some acorns, providing a small box, postage-paid. He was glad to do it.

“I understand they won’t grow the real thing,” he shared, “but who knows?”

 — Mark Miller