The Cottonwood Tree

The Cottonwood Tree next to the train depot in 1971

I usually drive to Raymond at least once a year, by way of Interstate 70 to Vandalia and then wind my way up to Hillsboro on Rt. 185. I know that when I reach the first curve just south of Raymond, it would be most logical to take the Black Diamond short-cut and head straight to one of my sisters' houses. Instead, I follow Rt. 127 into town, make the right turn on Rt. 48 and then turn on Main Street, just to get a glimpse of the Cottonwood Tree, towering majestically over the village of Raymond. That's when I know I am finally home.

I've always been fascinated by it. Depending on the season, it's either flourishing with bright green triangular shaped leaves, or it appears stark and gray, it's bare crooked limbs reaching, almost painfully, toward the sky. I'm sure it got its start just like any other ordinary cottonwood tree back in the prairie days: a small seed floating on a cottony fiber in the breeze, swirling around oak trees and mulberry bushes, escaping all those beady-eyed Blue Jays that snapped at it and missed. By the time the seed made it to the tree's current spot, it was likely hanging by a thread as it skipped from rock to rock along the banks of the pond that was once located where Sorrells Elevator is today. Luckily, it landed in the dark rich soil that Montgomery County has always been known for; some of the same soil, that Abe Lincoln walked on as he journeyed to the Illinois State Capital, and the very soil that had once been marked by the footprints of slaves heading North on the Underground Railroad. 

As strange as this might sound, I've often thought of the tree as having a personality; after all, it's always there, overseeing all the comings and goings of everyone in town. It has withstood thunderstorms, and snowstorms, and debilitating ice storms, and stood by during joyous town celebrations as well as tragic accidents that occurred on the railroad tracks, just outside its reach. For those who served in the world wars, the Cottonwood Tree was probably the last thing they saw in Raymond as their train crossed the trestle and rounded the bend south out of town, and the first thing they saw when they returned as heroes years later. Of course, the unlucky ones never knew that its branches carried the echoes of the 21 gun salute on the day they were buried.

Experts will tell you that few cottonwood trees live to be over 100 years old. Based on the rings around its trunk, Raymond's Cottonwood Tree is estimated to be over 140 years old. I find it amazing to think that three generations of my family have come and gone, and the tree still stands. I hope it will continue to greet me when I return home, for many years to come.   

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If you're interested, following is some of the history of the
Cottonwood Tree that was printed in Raymond's 125th Anniversary Book in 1996: 

Raymond's one and only claim to a landmark is the famed Cottonwood Tree located next to the Wabash tracks on main street. This Cottonwood tree was a small sapling when the City of Raymond was founded, prior to the arrival of the Wabash Railroad in 1871, which resulted in the establishment of Raymond as a town. Joe Henry farmed around the tree, which was at that time on the bank of a pond. About the turn of the century, the trunk of the tree became hollow but remained alive and was used as a storage shelter by the grainman, L.C. McClurg .  He would store his scoop and end gate in the hollow area of the tree. The hollowed area was said to be big enough to enable a man to stand upright in the trunk . 

At any rate, the tree was always the center of activity during the community's annual July 4th festivities. The city's cannon was brought out of moth balls on Independence Day and shot off underneath the tree. Wabash railway officials threatened to cut the tree down two or three times, but refrained after receiving protests from the townspeople who have come to prize the old landmark. As late as 1958, the Raymond community exercised their right of petition and presented their formal protest to the railroad officials when the tree was again threatened with removal. With the support of the community and the request of the Town Board, the tree was saved. The tree is on Wabash property, beside the tracks, near the old depot, now a village parking lot. Old timers remember when the sake of the tree was a popular spot to meet and discuss community developments. The tree was a popular vending spot for local fish and watermelon "drummers" (salesman).

One report has it that the tree became hollow as a result of being burned by a bonfire during a Fourth of July celebration . H.H. Weatherford , in an article on April  15, 1897, says that John Bruscoe was killed by the explosion of powder on July 29, 1876, under the cottonwood tree on Main Street. Bruscoe was the proprietor of the local hotel. As one searches through reams of paper, conflicting stories are found , as to what actually happened.