Class Tree Wars

While the students of today may seek shelter from the hot summer sun beneath the shading branches of a campus tree, seldom do they think back to yesteryear to the memories that tree might represent. Not every tree on campus was planted by campus planners; some are memorial trees, commemorating people, organizations, and even classes, proclaiming their deeds to the future. A tree is as mortal as its planter, and so it does not represent a forever siren song, but rather one whose call shall be the strongest as the days wane on its master and those who would remember him, and shall finally be silenced as the sun sets over the horizon of his remembrance.

The classes of the Universitys early days, through the final years of the nineteenth century, were eager to memorialize their tenure at the University by planting a class tree, under which "descendants of the members of the class would assemble in future years and dwell on the lives and achievements of their ancestors". It was then the duty for "members of other classes to attempt to destroy this tree and thwart the desire of those who planted the tree to leave such a testimonial". The battle between protector and destroyer was not once of spite, but rather "simply a test of wits and vigilance." [1]

The only lasting remnants of this tradition are two stone markers, a glacial boulder bearing the inscription of "Class of 76", and a rectangular white limestone marker emblazoned with "Class of 77". [2] The mighty elms they once marked have long since perished, and today they mark young pine tree groves. Though the significance of their location may have been lost, they provide one of the last glimpses into a world of class rivalry which has long since faded from memory.

At the southeast corner of the Illini Union once stood a massive elm tree, a gift of the class of 1881. The two trees which had gone before it had perished in the tradition that was the class tree wars, with the first "tarred and feathered and ridden on a rail like the fellow with the hard heart" and the second simply plucked from the ground. After seeing their first two attempts destroyed, the "he-men of 81 got organized, [and] hid themselves in the bushes armed with shotguns", managing to ward off the attacking underclassmen and letting the tree grow to its full glory. [3]

The "tree wars" could become quite involved and violent, as happened between the classes of 1882 and 1883. The class of 1882 planted a memorial tree during their senior year, "a measly little sapling about an inch and a half in diameter", but chose to place it in a grove of "large evergreen trees whose branches grew close to the ground and afforded fine shelter for those who wished to guard the tree from those who might have designs on it". Two members of the class of 1883 took advantage of a University event one evening and chose to make a run on the tree while the seniors were otherwise occupied.

Unfortunately for them, several members of the senior class had elected to stay behind to guard the tree and the two were met with a welcoming party. They made a run to escape, but one was apprehended and gave up the others name, causing them both to be threatened with expulsion.

To avenge the fate of their comrades, and just to "finish the job", several nights later a group of their fellow classmates decided to "make a raid on the tree that night [and] along toward midnight the army assembled at [a farmhouse just off campus], each man with a shotgun, and at the appointed hour made a raid on the University grounds." Upon their arrival, the designated hatchetman "proceeded to chop down the tree while [one of the boys] stood over him with a shotgun to protect him. The seniors rolled out from under the trees and there was a battle." The hatchetmans bodyguard was hit with more than 105 birdshot shrapnel pieces across his entire body, but held his ground, and the tree was lost. [4]