The Nightmare on Elm Street: Towns Fight to Save Stately Trees

When Robert Gardill was a boy, he made sure that he walked down Luzerne Street on his way to school so he could pass under the eight blocks of American elms.

“I always wanted to buy a house on Luzerne Street, mainly because of the trees,” says Gardill, 45, who realized that dream 17 years ago. “I think it’s the nicest street--I’d like to see a nicer one.”

The 195 trees that line the boulevard are the largest stand of elms east of the Mississippi River. To see them is to glimpse America as it once was, when majestic shade trees dotted the land.

They remain today only because of the tenacious commitment of the people of this town in central Pennsylvania.

Although they appear strong, able to withstand windstorms, lightning and errant lawn mowers, a pin-sized beetle carrying the Dutch elm fungus can take down a stand of the trees within weeks. The disease is so highly contagious that federal law requires the removal of infected trees.

Half of Elms Gone

More than 35 million trees--roughly half of the country’s elms--have been ravaged by Dutch elm disease since it was first brought to the United States in the 1930s, according to the Elm Research Institute in Harrisville, N.H. Without preventive measures such as spraying and pruning, the institute estimates, half the elm trees in the country would die this year.

When a few of the Luzerne Street elms got the disease a decade ago and had to be cut down, alarmed townspeople launched an all-out effort to protect the rest of the stand.

“It was like a funeral,” said Gardill’s wife, Mary Jo, recalling the loss of the first tree.

Gardill, 44, and the youngest of her six children watched in silence as the giant elm near their home was taken down, branch by branch.

“It affected us both so much that we sat in the front yard and both of us cried,” she said. “We never said a word. And the other kids came out and just sat there with us. It was like we had lost a good friend.”

Since then, Westmont officials conduct weekly surveys by helicopter to inspect the treetops, where the disease can be spotted first. The trees are regularly pruned, fertilized and sprayed.

This year, Westmont will spend about $17,000 for upkeep of the elms and about $20,000 for 3,240 other trees on public rights-of-way.

Town Can Afford Fight

Although Westmont is a thriving community of 6,200, such expenditures seem extravagant to economically depressed towns nearby--Johnstown, for example, recently had to lay off of dozens of firefighters and police officers--but Westmonters say their fondness for the trees goes beyond dollars and cents.

“I don’t mind paying my taxes if they go toward the trees,” said Bill Glosser, 57, who moved back into his boyhood home on the quiet street in 1965. “They are members of the family.”

“My husband pays the taxes, and he’d better not mind. I’d shoot him!” said Evelyn Picking, 79, who has lived on the street for 38 years.

Westmont is not the only community dedicated to saving its elms.

The people of Grosse Pointe, Mich., protect 1,740 elms, 1,500 of which are on public property, with both money and sweat.

The affluent lake community has an annual tree maintenance budget of $75,000, and private contributions pay for 95% of a $130,000 fungicide injection program. Many residents also pay for new trees when elms have to be removed, says Chris Matthews, administrative assistant for the city manager.

Volunteers Monitor Trees

Grosse Pointe has a tree commission, staffed by volunteers who monitor the trees’ health, note those that need special care and issue weekly reports. Their efforts have helped keep tree losses under 20% a year. Neighbors organize to help inject the trees with fungicide, and they get out their shovels to help with the replanting when an elm has to be cut down.

Kennebunkport, Me., has been trying to protect its 1,800 elms for 30 years--and enjoyed some success until the insecticide DDT was banned in the 1960s.

For years after that, “the loss of trees was just catastrophic,” said William Harris, 82, who recently retired after 22 years as the town’s shade-tree warden.

The picturesque seacoast town is down to 132 elms. The survivors are treated with an elm fungicide sold by the Elm Research Institute, Harris said, and when town officials tried to slash this year’s $11,500 tree budget by one-third, residents wouldn’t hear of it.

At the town meeting in March, “the people stood up and cheered when I talked about trying to get my budget back,” Harris said. “They wanted no part about cutting the budget for trees here, and it was restored. People are very tree-conscious in this town.”

Diseased Limbs Must Go

In Westmont, municipal workers labor from morning until night in summer and autumn, picking up dead limbs that may carry the fungus, scanning the treetops for signs of the disease, cleaning leaves from 25 miles of streets and patching damaged trees.

Letters also are sent to Luzerne Street residents, asking them to inspect the treetops from their upstairs windows from May through August and report any yellowing or browning of the leaves.