(Abridged from a full-length essay)

Over a century ago, when Oregon State University was called by another name, there was a Gray Poplar tree. Its outstretched arms, painted by green blossoms and silver leaves, became a meeting spot for young lovers. When the students’ romantic activities invited disapproval from the administration, they defiantly called it the “Trysting Tree.”

My dad started college in 1984, living alongside the tree while waiting for his high school sweetheart to arrive two years later. Once she did, she requested the dorm above his in Weatherford Hall. Old and rundown as it was, it was theirs for a small snippet of their youth. Its worn out walls framed their story less than a mile from the roots of the Trysting Tree.

Spreading roots of their own, the two of them collected countless stories that would define their love: running an intercom wire between their rooms so they could talk; my dad calling my mom so she could catch the balloon he floated up to her window on Valentine’s Day, adorned with ribbons and candy; dressing as pirates for Halloween because he lost a few teeth in a bicycle accident; making a tradition out of snacking on Woodstocks late at night. 40 years later and 600 miles from the restaurant, my dad still jokingly suggests that they order a “Woodstocks pizza with double shrimp.”

Although my parents had just arrived, the Trysting Tree was likely already present before the college existed. This is because Gray Poplars, with their short lifespans and plain appearance, are rarely intentionally used in landscaping. Despite this, Oregon State University embraced the tree with unerring loyalty and love, making it a vital part of the school’s history.

In the same way that OSU has cherished the memory of the Trysting Tree, my mom kept all of her own recollections in a scrapbook. When you leaf through the pages, you’ll see the love she holds for them. Among them are the balloon, ribbons, and candy wrappers, the Halloween photo where my dad shows off a gappy smile, and a little card that reads: “Will you marry me?” It all looks exactly as it did 40 years ago. Every page is a memory, a root that has embedded their story within the soil of OSU. And amidst more tales of mischief, football games, and friends, one of their most vivid memories was the beauty of campus as it bloomed in the Spring. Although they never did kiss under the Trysting Tree, its roots reached towards theirs in the same ground we walk on today.

Even after our family moved away, my connection to Corvallis lived on through the love my parents planted there. Soon, an offshoot of their roots, a love of my own, grew from a boy who drew me back home with a perfect smile and gentle spirit. That’s how I found myself at home under the shadow of Weatherford Hall. I walk there sometimes, gazing up at the two windows that offer a glimpse into my parents’ story. My mom joined me on one of these walks last Spring.

“It’s just like when we were here,” she said. “The crowds, bicyclists dodging around you. And look,” she pointed upwards. “Those were our windows. That’s where he passed the balloon to me on Valentine’s Day.”

As nostalgia shone in her eyes, I thought of the years between now and then, the meaning this place still holds for her, and the roots that still connect her to this place. My parents’ story is written into the history of OSU alongside the Trysting Tree. And upon their wall hangs their diplomas, framed next to a painting of Weatherford Hall.

***

Long may’st thou live, thou worthy friend
Thou dear old Trysting Tree
Long may thy branches proudly wave
Majestic’ly and free
To mind us of those happy days
Spent at old O. A. C.”

The Trysting Tree, 1908

Karissa Kyker

Biography: I am a Creative Writing student, a Lupus warrior, and girl who just wants to tell the stories of the people she loves. Through life I’ve learned that the hardships I go through and the people who have stayed by my side are a part of who I am, and I’ll always seek out the silver lining.

Artist Statement: When I wrote the full essay last year, it became the most important story I have written. I grew up hearing my parents’ stories and flipping through their scrapbooks, and the story of the Trysting Tree reminded me of them. The love they hold for these memories has become part of me, and I wanted to have a chance to share it before leaving OSU in June. When I learned the theme was “Roots,” it felt like it was meant to be. I hope you enjoy reading this story about the roots my parents put down here 40 years ago!