 1.Before: from Rose Garden south |
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| Click each image to enlarge then hit [Back] to return. |
 2.Before: from curb cut south |
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 3.The Memorial Tree: Doomed |
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 4.Before: from Corpus Christi parking lot north |
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 5.During: from Corpus Christi parking lot north |
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 6.Marked: the Pink Slip of eradication |
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 7.The Oak: felled (back) The Maple: to fall (font) |
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 8.The Oak: Recalled Glory |
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 9.The Oak: Recalled Beauty |
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 10.The Oak: An empty space now |
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 11.The Rose Garden: Encroached |
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 12.The Deconstruction |
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 13.Empty Space now; Blacktop tomorrow |
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14.One Last Look: The way it WAS |
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 All rights reserved. |
SDMS WORKER ACCOSTS EDITOR
Work on SDMS 'Landscaping' Suspended Briefly
Public's Use of Sidewalks Challenged
Workers Intimidating!
Workers Intimidated?Wethersfield Police
Support Public's Rights
Dr.Ken Sokolowski
Editor, Wethersfield.net
Wethersfield, CT
Wednesday, October 9, 2002On a wet Sunday morning in early October (2002), I trundled off to the Silas Deane Middle School (SDMS). I wanted to take another group of pictures depicting the eastern side of the property where it abuts Silas Deane Highway. I wanted to capture the scene to show the "way it was" before more changes were made to the landscape and architecture.
Heavy earthmoving equipment had already begun their work late last week. Workers had already cut down four mature trees in the green space between SDMS and the highway. I figured more work would proceed rapidly this week.
The pink slip of death was stapled to two beautiful mature trees near the north curb-cut, The pink slip, courtesy of the town's Shade Tree Commission, tells the public that these trees are marked for destruction and removal. Closest to the highway was a maturing, well-formed sugar maple of about 18" chest high diameter, with signs of autumn still in its canopy.
Closer to the north end of the school was a fully matured, healthy, well-formed oak tree, some 30-36 inches in diameter. This oak was an elegant beauty blemished only by the pink paper pox of death. Clearly, this tree had been pampered over the years, accounting for its current condition and contours. That the maple tree might have to be removed could almost be forgiven. That this majestic oak was marked for extinction was esthetically criminal.
A small cluster of men of the Wethersfield Men's' Garden Club were in the memorial rose garden providing TLC to their charges. (The garden sits at the southeast corner of Town Hall and the northeastern end of the SDMS.) A pawl of resignation seemed to prevail among the guys. They worried that the construction crews might damage a significant part of the rose garden as a utilities trench was being dug.
After chatting with these green-thumbed gents, I eventually took more pictures and left, planning to return the next day to see the "work" in progress.
Monday seemed to come and go with other distractions, including the televised gubernatorial debates and the at times incendiary town council meeting of 2002.10.07. Tuesday at the office I finally remember my plan for more pictures. At the end of the day, I drove past SDMS and saw that all of the limbs of the oak tree had been amputated. All that remained was the tall, bulky, straight trunk awaiting the executioners final cut. I had to get there early tomorrow morning!
But distractions prevailed. All of a sudden at 9:30 this morning, a vision of the oak tree exploded in my mind. Nuts! I must have missed final moment of the tree. Nonetheless, I had to go and find out.
I jumped in the car and drove up to town hall past the work crew on Church Street. They were spray-filling the street cracks with tar and covering the tar with that nasty sawdust - course sand mixture. Another mental note.
I parked in the public lot west of town hall taking only my camera with me. Besides, I planned to be there only a few minutes. I was still dressed in casual khakis and an well used hooded sweatshirt (hood down).
At the south end of town hall, there is a narrow trail which leads to the walk in the rose garden. I noticed that certain areas were cordoned off with yellow "CAUTION" tape near by. One yellow band encircled some newly seeded ground. Other areas were clearly demarcated so that they would not be entered or abused by the work in progress.
A steamshovel sat idle and unattended in the vicinity of the rose arbor above the body of the rose garden. One of the $1000+ burgundy, enameled metal benches had already been uprooted. About 18 inches of concrete anchors were still hanging from each of its four legs.
No workman was within 50 yards of town hall as I passed along the north side of the rose garden. No equipment was heard to be operating. I noted that the ground had been spray painted to indicate where the shovel was to eventually dig. I passed around the rose garden to the sidewalk that leads from the garden to the highway's sidewalk.
In this position, I started taking pictures from more or less the same locations as I had taken others on Sunday. I was trying to provide the visitors to Wethersfield.net a comparison of the site before and after the work from similar perspectives. What this? One of the workmen had taken an interest in me and was heading in my way.
This bearded worker accosted me by saying that I was standing in "the work area" and that I had leave that area. (By the way, I have a closely cropped beard too.) I asked, where exactly was there work area and where did it end. The (highway's) sidewalk was out of the work area, he said. The turf around at town hall and the SDMS west of the highway sidewalk comprised the work area. I made a mental note: no yellow tape surrounded the rose garden or the turf between it and the sidewalk. No blaze orange cones marked the safety margin near the rose garden either.
Obedient, I immediately went to the sidewalk and resumed planning and taking some more shots. One of my earlier pictures captured the maple tree with its pink slip in the foreground and the oak tree with its execution order in the background. I moved along the sidewalk to reproduce that perspective. The worker's aerial bucket was on the ground; the nearby chipper was silent. Only about 4 or 5 cones were near the base of the maple tree well inside its drip line; no one was doing anything in that area.
Five minutes and as many images later, I was still on the sidewalk. And, here he comes again, the same sunglassed, hard-hatted worker came back up to me and revised his early directions. I have to be at least "25 feet" from the maple tree. (I presumed that meant I should be 25 feet from the drip line of the tree. Though he did not stipulate this, I considered it a prudent interpretation of his directive.
Without a word, I again moved the prescribed distance way on the sidewalk, at the least for my own personal safety. The arborist, who never did identify himself, donned his gear, picked up his chainsaw and climbed into the bucket. The chipper was cranked up. He rose to the task of bringing this maple tree down.
Freed from the costs of film processing, I tend to take more rather than fewer images digitally. I crossed to the eastern side of Silas Deane Highway (very carefully). At its intersection with Beaver Road, I took a couple more pictures. With the assistance of the light at that intersection, I scurried back across the highway to the west side again, south of the SDMS curb cut and its adjacent traffic control box.
An older gent passed by me on the sidewalk going toward town hall. The worker still in his bucket skyward, the man passed close to the maple tree; the arborist paused. Beep, I took another picture. I stayed on the sidewalk a little south of the traffic control box. Beep; another picture. Beep; I took a couple more pictures planning to wrap up in a just a few more minutes.
Oh, now! What's this? The vigilant bucketeer lowered it to the ground, got out, removed his safety belt and was again walking down the side walk - toward me!
Getting really close to me this time, he asked if I was having "any problem" here. No, I said. He then asked, "Why do you need a hundred pictures" of the work on the tree! Then he launched into, "I told you ,you have to be 25 feet away from the chipper." I corrected him this time saying that he had said I had to be 25 feet from the tree; I was more than 25 feet from the chipper - probably in the vicinity of 40-50 feet. Miffed? Yes, I was getting miffed but I kept my cool despite the adrenaline level in my blood had started to rise. (My hands started to shake a little. Got to keep my cool.) It was my turn to speak. He was way out of line.
I reminded him that he was interfering with my civil rights and that he was harassing me. I reminded him I had complied with his previous edicts for my own safety and that I was certainly in no danger where I was now. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cellphone. I'm calling the Wethersfield police (non-emergency line), I told him, so that they could have a talk with him. With that, he said he was going to make a phone call too and he left, quickly.
I tried dialing the number but apparently the system was down. The message said it was "not in service at this time" and that I should "try again later." Later? I wanted to see a man in blue right away. Phooey. I am only a couple of hundred yards from the police station. As I headed in that direction, on the sidewalk, I noticed that all activity in the `work zone' had come to a halt. Clusters of laborers and presumably supervisors were now huddling in a couple places. Only the steam shovel and workers in the trench near town hall were still at it.
I reached the lobby of the police station. I picked up the lobby phone which was then answered by a Lexan-protected staffer who took my name Why do want to see a police officer, she inquired. My rights are being infringed and I am being harassed, I responded. A worker at the SDMS site was the problem, I added. I couple of minutes later Sgt. Warner (shield 612) joined me in the lobby. I gave him a brief summary of my complaint. We traded a few questions.
I had a right to be on the public property of the side walk where I had been shooting (out of harms way). If I had any problems further with the workers, I should come back to him and file a formal complaint. The work area is supposed to be marked off better than it was based on my description, either by tape or cones, he added.
Reassured, I went back out to the sidewalk near the southeastern corner of town hall. pausing a while to survey the scene. During that pause, camera poised, I noticed a loose clutter of about four supervisor-looking guys shifted in my general direction. On the grass of the "work-area," they seemed to position themselves more or less between me and the area that I was contemplating, the working steam shovel. I moved a little away from them and they did not follow; perhaps they were there for a legitimate purpose. Paranoid?
They gradually moved to toward SDMS. Well, at least they started in that direction. From about 50 feet away, two of them soon turned, and guess what, (right!) started heading back toward me, John Q. Public, on the sidewalk. Wonderful! Mr. GreySweater asked, is there anything they could do for me. No, nothing at all. With Mr. Checkerboard Jacket along side, he asked how I was. (Was?) I said fine. Then he repeated, is there anything they can do for me. Having had enough of this I said, tersely and clearly, you can leave me alone. I think they finally got it. They turned and walked away.
By now it was about 10:30 and I was determined to finish up with a couple pix of the chipper devouring a limb or two of the maple tree. I walked back down the street to the location of the traffic control box again and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited. Well, you get the idea.
While I waited, more cones were placed around the drip line of the maple tree in a belated effort on the part of the worker to mark work zone better. Otherwise, the work on the site seemed to have completely stopped except for some puttering being done around the chipper. Boy, they were having a really long coffee break!
Enough was enough. By eleven, I had to get back to my chosen profession: fixing feet. I left. I thought, they will start as soon as I leave. I not done though. I figured I had time to change into office clothes (respectable) and return for maybe a shot or two with my long-lens before heading for Foot Health Services.
I did. I returned just in time. The workers had cut the and a crane was loading each half onto a large flat-bed trailer. While I was away, the maple tree had not been abused any further.
At the end of my office day, I drove past SDMS. The maple tree was still standing, devoid of its limbs on the Silas Deane side as it was in the morning. The root ball of the oak tree was all that remained. (The next day, the maple tree vanished too.)
What did I learn from all of this?. I learned that people are intimidated by a camera pointed at them, especially when they are working. I surmise that people are more annoyed by a camera when they had never been in cross-hairs of a camera before. I guess that people take most offense when they feel their work is being challenged or evaluated by any means of recording it, camera or otherwise. And, I feel that, at least temporarily, the camera is mightier than than the chainsaw. I hope that those who planned this SDMS project never have a chance again to abuse any other site along the already challenged, linear landscape of 'The Silas Deane'. Where on earth was effective "design review" when it was really needed?
I pray that these workers received a civics lesson from our encounter so that they, their supervisors and employer will no longer embarrass themselves again. I know I learned a lot.