I sit down in the tall grass and lean back on my elbows, staring up at the spectacular canopy of the 300-
400 year old bur oak.
Tomorrow, May 20th, is my 40th birthday. Next to this tree, I feel like a toddler.
I should have tested the grass before I plopped down on the ground. Now, my jeans are soaked straight through to the skin. It’s too late - I can’t get any wetter - so I just stay put. I’ve admired this ancient oak from every angle, and I know this view is my favorite.
I visit the “Kile Oak” every time I’m passing through Irvington, a historic suburban neighborhood in Indianapolis. I come and go from Indy often nowadays, wanting to be close to family when I’m needed.
Irvington, founded in 1870 by Sylvester Johnson and Jacob Julian, was created with landscape designs from the Romantic era.
Grand houses were built on heavily forested lots along winding paths of dirt and brick - a wise architect’s method of reminding residents and visitors to slow down, relax, meander, enjoy.
The neighborhood - a wistful, twisting maze of narrow roads and alleys and parks - always surprises me. I had been exploring Irvington for years before I ever stumbled across the Kile Oak.
My mom, Aunt Dot, and I were taking a Sunday drive the first time we discovered the mammoth hardwood.
“How did we miss THAT all of these years ?” I asked my passengers. They sat dumbfounded, heads cocked back gazing up at the majestic marvel.
The next time we came back for a drive through Irvington, we rolled through the spider web of streets for an hour looking for the lone, giant oak - we never found it. We laughed as we left the neighborhood, joking that the bigger-than-life tree was really a ghost.
When I got home, I googled, “giant oak in Irvington.”
I found out that our elusive tree has a name, the Kile Oak, and a real location, its own private lot on Beechwood Avenue. According to Jud Scott, a consulting arborist, the tree is 92’ feet tall, 68” in diameter, and has a crown spread of 125 feet.
The Irvington Garden Club states that the bur oak was named after Reverend Oliver Kile, the first person to build a home on the lot in 1901. When Reverend Kile passed away 23 years later, the oak was a backdrop to his funeral. His daughter, Mae, continued to live next to the tree until 1973. Until her admission into a nursing home, she kept a visitor guest book next to the family oak.
A current neighbor told me that the house was torn down to make room for the giant roots to expand outward in every direction.
But for this tree, all of that information is just recent events.
The Kile Oak is estimated by arborists to be 300-400 years old. The first European to cross into Indiana, French explorer Rene-Robert Cavelier, didn’t arrive until 1679.
I look up at the sturdy branches, brilliant green with new spring life, knowing that elk, bison, black bears, and mountain lions roamed this area when Kile was just a seedling.
This tree has avoided disease and urban development. It has survived hundreds of years of midwestern storms - ice, wind, tornadoes, lightning - yet it still thrives, growing tall and proud above the town.
I like knowing that my visits are now a tiny part of the Kile Oak’s long, rich history.
This tree inspires me.
When I get home to Montana, I’m going to plant a tree for my birthday - a great gift for myself now and those who stumble across it long after I am gone.
***PHOTOGRAPH PROVIDED BY JUD SCOTT, CONSULTING ARBORIST
( 2 Votes )
