Fleming Oak
Thank goodness for Uncle Mart, who kept his eye on this heavily threatened oak
On my way back from visiting my friend in Abilene, I detoured to get my eyes on a couple more trees. After noting some interesting non famous trees near Buffalo Gap, I headed northeast toward Comanche, Texas where The Fleming Oak lives on the corner of the town square next to the courthouse.
From my parking spot I could already see it fanning out like a giant broccoli crown, surrounded by historical marker signs. (A slanted historical perspective is presented here, to say the very least).
Another robust Texas live oak (Quercus fusiformis), it is one of 7 trees that were “Saved from the Ax” (or Axe as the website inexplicably spells it) the Fleming Oak also belongs with 9 others in the “County Courthouse” category.
The historical marker and the book tell us that Mr. Martin Fleming spent the night under this tree when he and his father first arrived in Texas and he evidently developed a fondness for it. Gun toting Fleming was around to stop workers from cutting down “his tree” circa 1911, when paving contractors started cementing the courthouse square. They allowed the tree a tight ellipse of unpaved breathing room, which is still encroaching on its root system today.
“Uncle Mart” fortunately kept his eye on this heavily threatened oak, when a few years later some other “uninformed” citizens discussed chopping it down. Another nod to a tough Texan takin’ care of business, legend has it that he dissuaded these axe wielders with a threat to their lives.
How cool is this for dorks like me?!
Noting the limestone courthouse building with its interesting sculptural elements, after viewing from all angles, I stopped into a nearby antique store on the square. When I mentioned to the lady running the place that I had come to visit the oak, she pulled out some commemorative wooden ornaments she had leftover from a few years ago.
Of course I bought one.
She recommended I visit the town newspaper, the Comanche Chief, in a building just down the street. They still actually print the paper on a small press right there. There’s a little bookstore in front, so I bought copies of Rare Plants of Texas and Texas Trees, as well as a fold up paper map of Texas, which, you never know, might come in handy when technology fails me.
Scanning the menu for anything remotely healthy in the florescent lit, barn-like restaurant across the street, I sat flipping through Rare Plants and felt like an outsider. What is it with small towns and crappy food?
