Bracewell and Trees of Stanford

When I first began to study trees in earnest a few months ago, I spent a good deal of time searching for resources that would help me in my quest. I didn't want just a book on trees with lots of pictures, because there was no sense that I could "use" the knowledge that I was learning. I had to have such a tree right in front of me in order to learn about the tree.

Thus, I knew I needed one of two things: (1) labeled tree walks, where the specific trees were identified by markers on the trees or (2) maps of tree walks, where I could carry the maps, learn the names of trees and then study them. There is a third way that would have been useful for me, I guess, and that would be to hire a tree guide, but this might get pretty expensive, and so I just decided on the first two.

Finding Guides

You really have to try pretty hard to find good guides. Since I was in Oregon I found the online guide to trees on the Willamette campus. But, because of mislabeled, doubly-labeled, missed trees and other problems, the Willamette University list is only a little better than worthless. I studied 26 trees on the grounds of the State Capitol, but I wanted many more than that. Reed College has a wonderful "Trees of Reed" web page, and I am now involved in 33 campus walks to understand those trees. But the most brilliant online guide I found were a series of seven tree tours around Stanford University. Professor Ronald Bracewell, a world-renowned scholar in Electrical Engineering, had spent his entire academic career at Stanford and written a book, published in 2005 (he was born in the early 1920s) entitled Trees of Stanford. It contains descriptions and, in many places, locations of the 350 species of trees found on that huge campus. Here, at last, was a guide that would be wonderfully useful for me.

Coming to Stanford

So, with great anticipation and excitement, I planned a trip to Northern California. My mother and two of my brothers live short distances from Stanford, and so I used their places as my "base" to venture to the tree walks at Stanford. My Oregon friend Henry, a judge, encouraged me to look up Professor Bracewell when I went down to CA, to get him to sign a copy of his book and to talk about his love for trees. After all, Henry mused, people love to talk about their loves.

I thought that I would just look at trees this time, waiting until October (my next trip to the area) for the chance to meet Dr. Bracewell. After all, I wanted to read and absorb his book fully before I met him. And so I took four of the seven tree tours, discovering just how helpful Bracewell's book was. He was so accurate in his designation that sometimes he would say, "The Japanese Persimmon is 50 feet East of the three Dawn Redwoods that are at the Northeast Corner of the Bookstore.." (and he would show all of this on a map, too). I can get into that.

But, during one of my walks yesterday, when I was on my way to the trees around the Meyer and Green libraries, I just happened down "celebrity electronics row," as I call it. There was the Paul G. Allen Center for Integrative Studies, the William Gates Computer Center, the William Hewlett center for something and the David Packard Electrical Engineering Building. Then I thought to myself. Hm. Electrical Engineering building. Wasn't Prof. Bracewell a professor of Electrical Engineering? Even though he was retired, I bet he still had an office there. Sure enough, after entering the building and looking at the readerboard, I saw it. Third floor. Professor Bracewell.

An Unexpected Meeting

With great anticipation, then, I went up to his office. Door was closed. Not unusual, since it was 1:00 p.m. on a sunny August afternoon. I was, in fact, just wanting to talk to a secretary to see what Dr. Bracewell's habits were, so that I could make an appointment with him. The secretary's office was right next to his. I popped my head in and asked if she knew when Prof. Bracewell would be around. She looked at me, looked down, and didn't answer for a moment. Then she said haltingly, "He just died." It was Tuesday, and I learned that he died at his home on Sunday. He was in the office as regular as clockwork on Friday, August 10, but he died just two days before I wanted to visit him.

The secretary perceived both of our awkwardnesses at that instant and said that he had a friend, Professor Tony Fraser-Smith, also Emeritus, who was working in his office down the hall. Would I be interested in talking to him? Of course I said I was. So, for the next 60-90 minutes Professor Fraser-Smith and I had a wide-ranging conversation, where we talked about "Ron," as he called him, trees, the Stanford community, earthquakes (Tony's retirement interest) and my interest in trees. He shared with me some stories about Ron, such as his being responsible for a very accurate sundial that stands not far from the Packard building. In fact, Tony said that he encouraged Ron to write up a description of how it was used, and Ron returned a few days later with a huge Latin text, derived from one of the classical sources for sundials. On Tony's urging, Ron eventually cut it down to a manageable "plaque-sized" notice, written in English, explaining to passers-by how it works (I found another such useful description next to the sundial at the University of Colorado, Boulder).

So Much More

But there was so much more that Tony told me about Ron and his love of trees. Ron would often return to the office with his hands full of leaves. Why? To "photocopy" them, so that he could get a precise specimen of the leaf in his book (several of them are there--originally photocopied in the Engineering building). Tony also mentioned that he, a New Zealander, used to prod Ron, an Australian, by secretly taping leaves to Ron's small blackboard outside his office--just to see if Ron could identify them. They were, invariably, New Zealand species. But Ron, by virtue of his interest in trees and things Australian, got the last laugh. He planted tons of varieties of Eucalyptus and other Aussie trees on campus. Now nearly 20% of the 350 species of trees on campus originated in Australia.

Conclusion

The time was going too fast, and both of us needed to be on our way. I mentioned an idea to Tony. Was there a campus-wide "tree" or "shrub" or "grounds" committee, which would be informed whenever new construction on campus would endanger or require the removal of these trees/shrubs? I had just done a walk around the Old Union, recently remodeled, and many of Professor Bracewell's entries on the map are no longer there. Tony said that there was no such committe but he now wanted to look into it with the head of Buildings & Grounds at Stanford. Just think. I taught for 15 or more years at colleges and universities, and I would be hard pressed to think if any of my suggestions were ever adopted or even greeted with sympathy. But this one was eagerly received by Tony. Hm....maybe a career in the university-grounds consulting business...

I left the meeting with Tony feeling not only that I knew Ron, but that I had imbibed a bit of his spirit as it related to trees. Because of Ron, thousands of trees at Stanford now have "names" for all who are interested in looking. Anyone who can give a name to thousands of things in life will be honored by those things at his passing. Which makes me think that the trees are mourning today on Stanford University's campus because their strongest supporter has just died. And I was privileged to walk in on all of it.

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