Chatham’s Old Village Loses One Of Its Landmark Trees

by Ann P. Ryan

Editor’s note: Last Sunday, an iconic tree in Chatham’s Old Village neighborhood fell during a heavy rainstorm. Old Village resident Ann P. Ryan wrote the following appreciation of the fallen tree.
The great maple tree at the corner of School and Water Streets, a familiar landmark for generations of Chatham residents, was toppled on the morning of July 19 after a night of heavy winds and rain. Around 5:30 a.m., Dale and Lisa Roberts, who were staying as guests at the Leander Gould House, a historic 1834 property at 57 Water St. owned by Lisa and Tom Leahy, noticed two police officers out front where the tree had fallen and completely blocked the road. Shortly thereafter, DPW crews arrived to begin the heavy work of cutting and removing the limbs. The massive tree was uprooted rather than broken, lifting an enormous root plate from the sandy soil as it fell across the corner. Fortunately, no one was injured, but for many of us who live in or visit the Old Village, the loss feels personal.
The maple shaded one of Chatham's oldest intersections, standing watch over the former Old Village School, the nearby library, and Water Street for well over a century. Exactly how old was it? No one knows for certain. The Friends of Trees walking tour describes the maples here simply as "over 125 years old," a cautious estimate that reflects a lack of documentary evidence rather than the tree's true age. Given its remarkable size, it may have been considerably older.
The Old Village School opened in 1869, and it was common practice throughout New England to plant shade trees around civic buildings during the late 19th century. Chatham itself was undergoing a major tree-planting movement back then, recovering after decades of deforestation for farming, shipbuilding and salt works. It is entirely possible that this silver maple was planted during that hopeful era, perhaps between 1875 and 1890, making it anywhere from 135 to 150 years old.
Photographs taken after the storm show that the maple didn't snap in half, the way aging silver maples so often do. Instead, the combination of saturated soil and powerful wind simply overcame its shallow root system, pulling it from the ground, roots and all. Looking at the exposed wood, it appears relatively sound, meaning the old giant may have remained structurally healthy right up until the very end.
We might still uncover its exact age. If a cross-section from the base of the trunk can be saved before the stump is hauled away, the annual growth rings could finally tell us when this life began. Paired with the historic photographs tucked away in our local archives, those rings could answer a question that has lingered for decades.
Whether it was 125 years old or 150, that maple connected today's Chatham with the generations who walked these same streets long before automobiles arrived, when local children still carried slates to the schoolhouse. Landmark trees become a part of a town's identity so gradually that we seldom notice their constant presence until they are suddenly gone. This one will be deeply missed.
Ann P. Ryan is a resident of Chatham’s Old Village and the author of “Dad, Barbie and Me.”