Shenanigans on the Boulevard
The Dimond Oak: A Witness to Our History

by Dennis Evanosky

Like a beached whale that has lived out a very long life, the majestic Dimond Oak lies on its side next to Lions Pool in Dimond Park. Urban legend says the tree is 200 years old and the oldest oak tree in Oakland. Would an unscientific ring count back up the legend? I was eager to see.

First, I went online and gave myself a crash course in dendrochronology, the process of determining the age of a tree by counting the number of its annual growth rings. I remembered from my school days that one ring represents one year of growth. I learned that a one-cell-thick layer called the cambium divides the rings. The cambium appears as a distinct line between each year's growth. You can clearly see this division on the Dimond Oak.

I also learned that the width of each year's annual ring varies depending on weather and other environmental factors. Drought causes slower growth with narrow rings, while abundant rainfall will increase growth, producing wider rings. This is also evident in the Dimond Oak.

I decided not to count the rings in the park but to photograph them and count them at home. When I investigated the stump, I found a cross section lying next to it. The annual rings on this cross section offered the clearest picture of the tree's growth.

I began counting the Dimond Oak's rings from the outside and discovered a problem. Something had not only scarred the tree, but the scar led to a large hole in the middle of the tree. I knew that a fire had destroyed the nearby Dimond home in 1913. I took a leap of faith and decided that this fire had scarred the tree. I dated the innermost part of the scar as 1913. I had a starting point.

I decided to start at the core and count out toward the 1913 fire scar. I counted 110 rings. So the tree likely began life about 1803. Unlike most urban legends, the one about the Dimond Oak is true. This tree is over 200 years old.

I used Adobe Photoshop to double-check my count; I typed corresponding numbers on every tenth ring. I then asked Bart Wright of Fine Line Maps to add the finishing touches. I told Bart of the local events the tree had witnessed, and he added them to the photo.

How much Native American activity did the Dimond Oak witness? If the tree began life in 1803, it witnessed the very end of Huchiun Ohlone's journeys along nearby Sausal Creek. In the September 2000 Metro, the Friends of Sausal Creek's Martha Lowe wrote that there is no hard evidence that people inhabited the Sausal Creek watershed before the Spanish arrived.

However, while it is unlikely they settled near the Dimond Oak, Native Americans certainly took advantage of Sausal Creek and its resources for thousands of years before the birth of our tree.

The Dimond Oak had already grown for seventeen years when the Peralta family settled along the nearby creek that still bears the family name. It witnessed the arrival of Henderson Lewelling in 1854. He built his home near the tree and planted cherry orchards along Sausal Creek. His groves helped lend the name "Fruit Vale" to the nearby community.

The tree thrived nearby in 1867 when Hugh Dimond bought the property and settled with his family here. It snuggled up against the 1897 Dimond cottage, which still survives. It survived the July 2, 1913, fire, but its hidden scar revealed when the tree was felled says it may have been dying a slow death since that day.

My tally is unscientific, and I encourage anyone willing and able to do this more scientificallyto have a go.

In closing, I must dispel one other urban legend that has surfaced since the city felled the Dimond Oak. Even at 203, this was not the oldest tree in Oakland; not even close. That honor likely belongs to a spindly redwood high up along Lions Creek in Leona Heights. A plaque in the Carl Munck School parking lot points the way to the tree, which is at least 450 years old. Stop by and have a look.