Mr. Jefferson's Ladies

Family traditions are funny things. They are often started in accidental, almost comical ways. The youngest kid putting the first ornament on the Christmas tree or getting the drumstick from the Thanksgiving turkey may go on until the youngest is twenty or older; then it gets passed down to the next generation, then the next after that.

My family's tradition with the Japanese cherry trees along the Tidal Basin began innocently enough: I was working under contract with the National Park Service to come up with ways to protect them from tent caterpillars, Japanese beetles, and a particularly insidious form of scale insect. The scale was in reproductive stage when the trees were in bloom, so in order to avoid the crowds and find someplace to park, I took to hitting the Tidal Basin before dawn. The sight of sunrise through the Jefferson Memorial soon banished any thought of serious work, however.

That night, I told Pat: "You have got to come down and see this." She half-heartedly agreed and next dawn found us bundled up and yawning while waiting sunup. It was definitely a "Wow" moment, and we have been trekking down every year since, with a couple of breaks for babies. We brought Ariel and Alec along as soon as we were reasonably sure they wouldn't wander off the sidewalk and fall into the water. We leave get there before 6 a.m. and when we leave by 7:30, the place is already packed with people. Ariel has been known to grouse "If it's tourist season, why can't we shoot them?" but everyone seems polite enough, pausing while you set up a photo and murmuring pleasantries.

The trees survived my ministrations, or lack thereof, and have weathered hurricanes, floods, beavers, and various other natural disasters. A few, mostly in places not frequented by walkers (who tend to compress the soil about the roots - a bad thing), date from the original 1912 plantings. First Lady Mrs. William Howard Taft and the wife of the Japanese ambassador turned the first shovels full of soil. Several trees were removed when the Jefferson Memorial was constructed in the 1930's, causing vehement demonstrations with people chaining themselves to the doomed trunks and sitting in the holes after the roots had been dug up. The Park Service, in a effort to bring about a win-win situation, planted an additional thousand trees, including new varieties to extend the blooming period, when construction was completed. Several trees were cut down by misguided jingoists in the days following Pearl Harbor as retaliation (I'm sure Emperor Hirihito was most upset). The trees remain, along with attendant ceremonies and parades, telling us when Spring has officially started in Washington.