Photo Courtesy Richard Furlow
Paul Bass Photo
Elizabeth Novicki worried that a 30-foot-high city tree was going to fall on her house. She had reason to.
When the tree fell, Novicki (pictured) was lucky to have escaped injury — and be able to say to the city government: I told you so.
The tree had been an ongoing topic of conversation in her Beverly Hills neighborhood on the far west side of town — how it leaned toward the house, how its increasingly exposed roots lifted up the sidewalk.
“Everybody kept saying, ‘That tree’s going to fall,’” recalled Novicki’s daughter, Peggy Kania.
Well, not everybody said that. An arborist with the city’s Department of Parks, Recreation and Trees came out to inspect the tree in November. The arborist’s conclusion: It could benefit from some trimming, but was otherwise healthy and should not be cut. The tree went on a list.
But before its trimming appointment arrived, it did just as Novicki, her family and her neighbors had predicted — indeed had feared. It fell, landing on her house at 4:30 a.m. during a snowstorm several weeks ago.
“We’re lucky that she didn’t get hurt, or have a heart attack,” Kania said.
Novicki, who just turned 92 and has lived at her Beverly Road home for 70 years, said she knew that tree was going to fall down. It was just a matter of time, and weather.
She spends much of her time on a couch near the home’s front window, near where the tree eventually fell to a rest.
“That tree is quite old,” she said. “But they never came to inspect it [over the years]. They’d just trim a couple of the branches. They didn’t check the bottom of the tree. This is the third tree that fell down.”
The Secret Lives Of Trees
Thomas MacMillan Photo
Kania said the family had been after the city for four years to cut the tree down, to no avail.
Nervous about the tree falling on the house, or worse on someone in their yard, they reached out to their alder, Richard Furlow (pictured), with hopes that he could sway the parks department to cut the tree down.
Furlow said he made calls to the parks department that went unreturned. He made three in-person appearances at the department, where, he said, he was told, “We don’t cut healthy trees.”
It was one of the first tests of his skills as a first-term alder. He came on board after a special election last May, and wanted to deliver a solution for his constituent. In retrospect, he said, he discovered that in the Elm City, trees have rights that seem to trump those of humans.
“I understand the value of trees and their importance to our climate and even property value,” he said. “But they cannot outweigh the safety of human beings. What would have happened if her grandchild had been playing outside? What would have happened if anyone had just been standing out there?”
Paul Bass Photo
City Tree Warden Christy Hass (pictured) said trees don’t trump human life, but the city’s tree laws exist for a reason. “Trees are living things,” she said. “And they have a mind of their own.”
She said the arborist’s inspection of the Beverly Road tree is typical of what an arborist would do in the case of an alleged problem tree: a visual inspection.
Hass said there is no way for the arborist to know if a tree that looks healthy upon visual inspection has an internal problem or a problem down at its roots.
“It’s not something we can always predict. And the way it was leaning was not terrible,” she said. “But any arborist can be wrong, and unfortunately in this case the arborist was wrong. It happens, not often, but it does happen.”
The arborist is the city’s staff urban forester, a full-time position that requires an arborist’s license, according to parks chief Rebeca Bombero.
Finding Common Ground
Kania said the family is not sure how much actual damage her mother’s house has endured. The tree didn’t crash land in the living room. It came to a rest up against the house, knocking the screen out of the window.
They won’t be able to discover how much damage the house, or their lawn might have endured, until the snow melts. They’ve been told to send the estimates for any repairs to the city.
Meanwhile, the stump of the tree remains in its former hole under several layers of snow. Kania said the family has hopes that the tree won’t be replaced.
Furlow, who is drafting a letter to the parks department, said he wants to work with the department to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.
“I know this is Elm City,” he said, “but I don’t understand how a resident, a taxpayer, can call for several months and nothing gets done. I’m a bit frustrated.”
Oh come now. Replacing the tree with a young tree won't endanger anybody for at least sixty years.