I missed this item in the news as it went to press just after we left for Canada. That means I found out the hard way, by walking through Volunteer Park, which I do often as it’s just over THERE from my place, and coming across a great scarred stump and a handful of shellshocked neighbors. “I used to come and play under this tree when I was a boy,” said one embittered guy who’d taken to using the broad remains of the tree as a soapbox. He tried to engage me in conversation about how the city was cashing in on the wood from this giant maple, but I wasn’t having any. I was just too sad.
RIP, grand old tree.