By Barbara Morgan
When our ancestors arrived and others returned to this land in 1792 with great hope, an 1851 church historical record tells us they gathered around a Gree-Gree tree in old George’s street and gave thanks. That original tree as well as the icon of liberty we knew and loved as big Cotton Tree, which stood one city block away at the junction of Tower Hill and Pademba Road, belonged to a complex network of kapok or java cotton trees in the heart of Freetown. Today, if asked to describe the Cotton Tree in a single word,
…Constant, enormous, imposing, terrifying, mysterious, magnificent…
all come to mind.
Above ground we marveled at its expanse while we could not ignore those whom, pushed to the fringes of society, would gravitate around its base. No more than we could ignore the vital, sometimes dubious fauna that made nests in its trunk and branches as all the while it filtered our air. Below eye view and beneath our bustling feet, the ancient colossus shared water and nutrients with its younger offspring and neighbors through a vast and intricate root system, year after year after century…carrying on the business of life. Rich, complicated, brutal, beautiful – life.
On the 24th of May, the Cotton tree fell, but its roots remained, perhaps a tangible reminder that we can take courage and find new hope again.
In the aftermath, whether we feel connected to or repulsed by the ancient gris gris and symbolism some had found in it, see yet another sentinel climate event we must heed, or purely mourn our beloved city’s monumental loss, there is surely room enough around the big Cotton Tree for us all.
So between Earth and Sky we will write your stories, we will sing your songs, we will not forget. We will take courage and find new hope again.