Evangeline’s Daughters
Evangeline was unwell. You could see it in Her lackluster crown, leaf-bald in places, and in the meager crop of acorns She begrudgingly sprouted. A creeping fig vine, starting out innocently enough as an ornamental ground cover in the 1980s, had escaped its intended location and had managed to scale the trunk of the legendary oak, growing tighter, more leafy and more woody every year, tighter even to the point of cutting into Evangeline’s bark.
By the turn of the new millennium, the opportunistic vine had crept throughout Her crown, wrapping its evergreen leaves around each of Her fern-feathered branches. Visitors to the park during the 2010s may recall Evangeline’s silhouette, romantically garlanded with vines. That was no romance. The vines were actually strangling poor Evangeline. Standing beneath Her branches and looking up into Her crown, the canopy was green enough. But it wasn’t Evangeline’s leaves that were green. It was the fig leaves that were green. Evangeline, entangled, was fighting for Her life.
If Evangeline is still around in the year 2122, and your grandchildren’s grandchildren have the occasion to visit Her, they’ll have the St. Martinville Garden Club to thank. But for the valiant efforts of these women and the team of experts they assembled, this battle between fig and oak might have ended on a different note. Mary Desormeaux, as President of the St. Martinville Garden Club, has served as Evangeline’s caretaker and main advocate for the last four years. She told me whenever she had a difficult decision to make, she always tried to see the situation from the tree’s point of view. “Every living organism has a will to survive,” she told me. She just needed a little help.
Creeping fig vine
The Garden Club, under Desormeaux’s leadership, and with the input of advisors, developed a plan for Evangeline’s rehabilitation, which also included substantial renovation of the grounds of Evangeline Oak Park. The plan was proposed to the City Council in 2019, and the Save Our Tree project was underway. Through the fundraising efforts of club members, with matching funds from the City of St. Martinville, and a major assist from WoodmenLife, Chapter 134 of St. Martinville, the plan was put into action.
The most urgent issue was the vine. Stuart Gauthier coordinated the response from the LSU Ag Center as Extension Agent for St. Martin Parish. He said, “You could say that the vine was parasitizing the tree.” A parasite is when one organism lives on or inside another organism, causing some harm to its host. You might think of parasites as tiny micro-organisms, but plants can be parasites too. In this case, it was a battle between an oak and a vine, and the momentum was tilted in favor of the smaller, but more nimble, creeper.
And it wasn’t just the fig vine that needed to be addressed. Evangeline’s daughter had grown so tall and full beside Her that the two live oaks were now competing for the same sunlight. Did you know that Evangeline shares the park with Her daughter? Or have you always been, like me, too awed by Evangeline to notice? Next time you visit the park, spend some time with the other live oak there. She doesn’t have a name, but people call her Daughter. Daughter’s crown, the team determined, would need to be trimmed back for Evangeline to fully flourish.
Daughter Oak in front, Evangeline Oak in back
Jim Foret, a licensed arborist and horticulturist out of New Iberia, emphasized the importance of sunlight to a live oak. “Leaves are the sugar factories of the tree,” he explained. Without exposure to enough sunlight, leaves won’t be able to meet the tree’s energy requirements. A healthy crown of leaves is the sign of a happy oak, and Evangeline’s crown had grown raggedy. On an old postcard from the 1960s, Her crown is resplendently green. It’s shocking to see the comparison.
Frank Thibodeaux with Bob’s Tree Preservation coordinated the removal of the creeping fig. If you think it was as simple as peeling some vines away from the trunk, think again. Ficus pumila, so-called creeping fig vine, can secrete latex strong enough to do real damage to brick and other building materials. Imagine what it can do to an oak. The creeping fig had encased Evangeline in braided, woody layers, constricting Her. Severed from their roots, they came off in thick mats. To be sure they’d not missed any roots still in the ground, an air knife was used to gently decompact the topsoil around Her base with focused jets of air. Her limbs were trimmed. Fungicide was applied. And a specially formulated mulch, with root-friendly microbes, was worked into the soil. Then they waited.
By spring of 2021, the tree was showing signs of renewal. Foret told me the turnaround was palpable. Gauthier, while giving a more guarded assessment, agreed that things were moving in the right direction. “Oaks are slow to decline,” he said, “and also slow to rebound.” In other words, these things take time. For Desormeaux, it was the large crop of acorns Evangeline sprouted that year. She took it as a good omen.
Evangeline Oak Park in 2022 after restoration
With the health of Evangeline righted, the Save Our Tree project pivoted to park renovations. The existing barrier around Evangeline—white concrete pillars strung loosely with chain—could be easily breached, and the steady stream of foot traffic wasn’t doing Her any favors, so aluminum fencing was installed in its place. Daughter was fenced off too. Respecting a tree means respecting its massive underground root system, so you don’t just go poking fenceposts blindly into the ground. Again, an air knife was used to gently decompact the soil, allowing safe insertion of fencing conforming to the subtle slope of the park. In my opinion, having seen the park both before and after, the experience of the two live oaks is actually enhanced by the low black fencing. Yes, the fences are barriers, but here they are also elegant frames.
Going forward, Foret will continue to advise on Evangeline’s care. He’s eager to see Evangeline’s crown come May or June. He’ll look to the most vulnerable areas, where the leaves grow farthest from the trunk, for any patches of yellow or other signs of leaf loss. And of course, everyone will be keeping an eye out for the fig vine. Strangulation by vine is an uncommon cause of live oak morbidity, according to Gauthier, and now that the non-native fig vine has been eradicated, he’s less concerned about the native vines that are already beginning to find purchase on Evangeline’s sturdy trunk—trumpet vine, Virginia creeper, poison ivy, resurrection fern.
Daughter Oak in 2022
It’s tempting to believe a mature live oak would be able to take care of Herself, but Evangeline’s treatment plan was carried out only with great effort, a lot of teamwork, and at no small expense. Rehabilitation of both oaks, clean-up and landscaping of the grounds, placement of a lightning rod and installation of fencing, before all was said and done, ended up costing around seventy thousand dollars. For Desormeaux, the Garden Club, and the community at large, the investment was well worth it. “We are all Evangeline,” Desormeaux said. “We all go through hardships in life. We all get beat down. We all suffer. But we’re also resilient. We find a way to move forward.”
More than a tourist destination, Evangeline is the beating heart of a people, the living embodiment of an enduring myth permanently rooted in the soul. Evangeline invites us to remember where we come from and to consider where we’re going. More than anything, She inspires us to see the world beyond our own narrow self-interest. You can see it in Her rootedness, Her deep connection to the earth, stretching back to the 1700s at least. You can see it in the optimism of Her evergreen leaves, in Her hunger for the sun. And if you look closely at Her trunk, the next time you visit, you can see it in Her battle scars, too. Every living thing has a will to survive. Evangeline sees our struggle, and tips it in favor of Faith.