Lou’s View – Jan. 8, 2015
The Grandfather Pine
by Lou Bernard
2014 was a wonderful year for me, what with the 175th anniversary of Clinton County and all. I got invited for speeches, parades, and all sorts of fun events. I’m going to have a hard time letting go, but now it’s over. I’m not sure I’m ready to face 2015—Now I’m just like everyone else.
But wait! If I really want to cling to shreds of notoriety, there’s another anniversary coming up. Loganton is celebrating its 175th this year. Loganton was originally laid out in 1840, so I can write about that.
Boy, I wish there was a good story to tell about the Loganton area. If only Henry Wharton Shoemaker had written something cool about Loganton.
Of course I’m kidding. Of course Henry Shoemaker wrote about Loganton. Henry Shoemaker wrote about everything. The McElhattan writer and folklorist turned out about one book every hour; I can literally show you Shoemaker stories about fairies smuggled in from Germany.
So, sure, why wouldn’t there be a Shoemaker story about Loganton? Allow me to introduce you to “The Indian’s Twilight.”
This story appeared in the 1922 book “Allegheny Episodes” and is much better than any other story with the name “Twilight” in the title. It talks about a huge pine tree that grew on the mountains overlooking Loganton, an old Native American legend.
A long time ago, before any of the settlers had arrived in the area, the Great Earth Spirit fell in love with the Evening Star, because that was legal back then. The Earth Spirit could not reach his love, though, much like myself and my childhood crush Esther, who saw about four desks away in the seventh grade. So the Earth Spirit caused a huge gash to be opened in himself, which is something I never thought to try, and drained out the agony. This gash later became known as Penn’s Cave.
As he began to hope again, the Earth Spirit tried to reach for the star, growing a huge, tall tree to reach the skies. According to the measurements provided in the story, it was over two hundred and seventy feet tall, and became known among the Natives as the Grandfather Pine. (The Evening Star was actually Venus, a planet. The relationship was based on a lie. And don’t even get me started on poor Pluto.)
As the white men came and began settling in the valley, chopping down trees and digging up mines, the Natives became concerned. (Us white guys ruin everything.) They discussed what should be done, and then remembered that they had the Grandfather Pine—A tree that reached the heavens.
A group of braves was selected to climb up the Grandfather Pine, reach the top, and go to the stars in search of their brave warrior ancestors. (That’s right. The local tribes had a space program.) They were told to come back with the ghosts of their dead warriors, who would help conquer the oncoming settlers. So the braves climbed the tree, and it was rumored that if the tree ever fell, they could not get back, and it would be the end of the Natives.
The Rain of Fire, a meteor shower in 1833, was thought to be the braves returning with help. “But not a single stellar ally ever reported for duty,” Shoemaker wrote. And the Natives continued to wait, as time passed.
Then the settlers came lumbering into the valley. Ario Pardee, a lumberman who was also heavily involved with the mines in Hazleton, came in and decided to harvest the forest. Pardee hired Mike Courtney, who led a team of experienced lumber professionals, and they took two days chopping down the Grandfather Pine.
It was said that one man broke a leg and one lost an eye as it came down, and window lights rattled all the way down in Loganton. And then the men found that they were unable to move it, so the Grandfather Pine stayed where it fell, on the top of the mountain.
Shoemaker wrote that in 1922, you could still see the enormous stump. I’m actually tempted to hike up there and look. And maybe I’ll take a ladder, because those braves and the spirits are still up there, and can’t get back down now.
