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Published May 07, 2009, 10:27 AM

People find ways to express rage, grief over downed tree

The Honking Tree is gone, but within hours, people were responding. Indignation, exasperation, grief, anger—the comments included all of those. People wrote online, talked about it on the street, and phoned their friends to share the shock and sadness over the “chainsaw massacre,” the act of vandalism that felled the white pine landmark on northbound Highway 61 enjoyed by passersby for over 40 years.

By: Monica Isley, Lake County News Chronicle

The Honking Tree is gone, but within hours, people were responding.

Indignation, exasperation, grief, anger—the comments included all of those. People wrote online, talked about it on the street, and phoned their friends to share the shock and sadness over the “chainsaw massacre,” the act of vandalism that felled the white pine landmark on northbound Highway 61 enjoyed by passersby for over 40 years. The tree itself may have been as old as 113.

Most people were hoping the trunk would be preserved in some way, to turn it into a memorial of some kind.

That idea came from the Minnesota Department of Transportation itself. Steve Baublitz, MnDOT maintenance supervisor at Two Harbors, was the one who first reported the Honking Tree’s demise to the Lake County sheriff.

“My stomach turned sick when I saw what had happened,” he said on April 30, shortly after the news began to circulate. “When I drove by, something just didn’t look right.”

What was wrong was the large empty space where the tree once stood.

A decision about how to preserve the tree won’t come until after Two Harbors mayor Randy Bolen Jr.’s community meeting on May 12, where he solicit ideas from the public. The tree has been delimbed and taken to a safe place until plans are made. MnDOT, which owns the tree because it was in the highway median, has agreed to give it to the city.

Steve Anderson of Knife River called the Lake County News-Chronicle in the hopes that someone would organize a fund drive to replace the tree. He volunteered the first dollars, and any time needed to get a new tree planted.

The fund exists at The Lake Bank, and many others have expressed a desire to donate.

Erin Carlson organized a Memorial Drive-by-and-Honk parade for last Sunday night after she acquired 900 members on her newly created facebook site, “Remembering the Honking Tree.”

“People began suggesting we do something visible as a memorial, so I decided to organize this parade,” she said.

At 6 p.m., they began to gather at the Knife River rest area. Shortly after 6:30, they headed out toward Larsmont.

They were families, young people, older people, one at a time, in groups—all wanting to pay a last tribute to the Honking Tree.

As their vehicles approached the area where the big white pine lay, its stump covered with offerings by grieving people, they slowed to 45 miles per hour and began to honk. For all of them, the honking has been a tradition in their lives.

“I grew up in Two Harbors, and the first day that expressway opened, my dad and I drove by and honked,” said Diane Burcar of Duluth.

In those days, the early ‘60s, the Honking Tree would have been even more conspicuous than it was recently. Now, saplings have sprung up along the route between Two Harbors and Duluth, but back then, the Honking Tree was the only thing left after the area was clear-cut for expressway construction.

Carlson was there with her husband, brother and other family members, all of them wearing specially embroidered t-shirts a friend created. “Remembering the Honking Tree,” the shirts said, with a pine tree stitched front and center.

Heather and Mike Riley were there early, with their children Patryck and Kim. Mike, an overland trucker, said he was stunned when stumbled on the news about the tree on the Internet.

“I’d come back home on the weekends, and my son would always say, ‘Dad, be sure to honk at the tree,’” he said.

Carlson instructed the drivers of the 30 or so vehicles that showed up to stay together, pay their respects, and then “drive on, and get on with your lives.”

But most of them admitted that until someone is apprehended and convicted of the senseless crime, the story will never be quite over.

Meanwhile, people began creating their own memorials. A wreath on a stand was placed next to the stump. A stuffed bear sits atop the stump, along with flowers, a miniature honking horn, and other items.

Passersby honk not just once, but several times, in solidarity with the tree and those who loved it. Others stop, get out, and take a closer look.

On Saturday, two of those who stopped were Jim Robb and Wendy Kihlstadius.

“I live just three-quarters of a mile up the road, and I used to hear people honking at that tree any time of the day or night,” Kihlstadius said. “It was such a landmark, and such a part of my life.”

Robb said he himself always honked when passing. He remembers, as a kid, arguing with his siblings over who would get to honk the horn. When his father, Myron Robb, died 15 years ago, the family wrapped a ribbon around the Honking Tree.

As they reminisced, Leonard Weiss of Knife River stopped and approached slowly, his face somber. During the years when he lived in the Cities and lead youth expeditions to the Boundary Waters, he always acknowledged the Honking Tree as he passed.

“I didn’t honk, but I always waved,” he said, obviously fighting tears. “This just breaks my heart. This tree was a good friend.”

Weiss leaned over the stump, spreading his arms around it in a final, affectionate farewell. He laid one palm on the sawed-off end of the trunk, and patted the lichen-encrusted bark with the other.

“This was an act of terrorism against an innocent person,” he said.

When asked to do so, Weiss squatted down and began counting the rings on the tree, while those standing nearby waited to for the result.

“One hundred thirteen,” he said.

If the rings can be believed, the Honking Tree got its start 113 years ago, in 1896, when Two Harbors had barely left its Whiskey Row roots behind. Whiskey Row was the derogatory name given to the first town site on the waterfront, after businesses and residents had moved farther uptown.

The Honking Tree owes its existence to Charlie Hensley, a highway engineer who ate his lunch under that tree when the expressway was being constructed in the early ‘60s, and who insisted that it not be cut down with the rest of the trees.

Later, for reasons no one seems to remember, the tree received its nickname, and it became tradition for people to greet it as they returned home to Two Harbors. The story spread, and soon others coming to the North Shore added their honks.

“This is just so senseless,” one bystander was heard to say. “And it can’t be undone.”

(See the story about the removal of the Honking Tree’s remains, page 2. To write your own memories about the tree, visit www.twoharborsmn.com)

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