The telephone call was from the Chamber of Commerce office. The caller indicated that a study for the revitalization of the village’s Main Street was in progress, and an element of that plan, with historical overtures, would involve what the chamber spokesperson described as the “Holy Tree,” located on Park Street near the Tupper Lake National Bank drive-in window exit.
“Did I know the whereabouts of the commemorative nameplate hat had been attached to the tree?” Also, “What kind of tree was it?” etc., etc.
Intriguing questions! The folks at the chamber deserve good grades for not allowing it to get lost from the chronicles of this community, this prominent feature on our Main Street that was transported from its home on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea and endured, indeed thrived, through countless seasons of unfamiliar and often hostile Adirondack weather.
Having grown up in this community, I was somewhat familiar with the tree in question, although I don’t remember it being referred to as the “Holy Tree.” I knew, for instance, that it was a gift of Dr. Thissell, Tupper Lake’s beloved dean of physicians, from the earliest pioneering days of this community. I could remember it as a spindly sapling at a time when Francher’s diner was located next to where the N.Y. Telephone Dialing Center (now Verizon) is currently located.
Because that property has a connection with this account of the tree, I’ll interject some background on what was known in the late 1930s as the “Post Office” lot. This lot, fronting 65 feet on Park Street, was purchased by the government from A.J. Deshaw in 1941 as a site for a proposed post office. WWII and other considerations held up the project, and the government subsequently decided the lot was too small. It offered it to the village at a 95 percent discount from its $13,500 cost to the government ($675) with the provision that construction of a library be started there within 18 months. The village, however, withdrew it purchase application to permit the property sale to the Telephone Co. The sale price? $14,000!
The point is that the property was originally owned by Dr. Thissell, who also owned the “Opera House,” today remodeled as our village office, police station, etc. It, along with the former Hotel Altamont, had miraculously escaped the fire of 1899 that leveled most of the Park Street business section. It was all saved largely through the efforts of a women’s bucket brigade that kept the fire from spreading. The property extended to the corner of Cliff Avenue, which was known at the time as “Thissell Block.”
To carry the connection with the tree a bit further, note that in 1915, this block was purchased by the Tupper Lake National Bank, which had outgrown its location in the Maid block (now Littlefield Insurance) and built the beautiful building we know today. Dr. Thissell was an organizer of the original bank in 1906 and a continuing long-time director, so we might easily speculate why the tree was planted in its present location.
You must admit that this towering tree that dominates our Main Street is remarkable and special. For something like 100 years, it has been able to overcome the stress of drought and penetrating cold, and it has resisted attacks from virulent pathogens.
Perhaps only the majestic 70-ft. elm tree (which boldly thrives when large American elms have now died from Dutch elm disease) located near the Demars Boulevard entrance of Day Wholesale offers a challenge to it for the wonder of survival against overwhelming odds. No matter the challenge, both of those century-old denizens represent an exceptionalism, which, if you think about it, mirrors this community. Tupper Lake has also defied the odds and has lived on when similar places that were also based on a sawmill economy have become ghost towns today.
My boyhood memory of Dr. Thissell planting this tree was largely anecdotal, and I needed assurance that it was valid. I placed a call to Lois Brosseau, who not only is a history buff but also has a sharp memory. In addition, she had grown up here and had worked at the bank. Lois confirmed what I knew.
Dr. Thissell always strongly opposed any effort to remove the tree. Lois carried my inquiry a step further, and in a quest to locate the commemorative nameplate once fastened to the tree, called Frank Morrison, who had worked with her at the bank.
Frank in turn called the bank and a quick search revealed that some time ago the plaque, having fallen from the tree, was placed in a file drawer and forgotten. Frank and his wife, Lou, recognizing the historical significance, recently polished and restored it. They will replace the plaque on this community’s “Holy Tree” so that the memory of the beloved physician who transplanted it will live on.
In the next Transitions, we will offer a sketch of Dr. Thissell, who came to this undeveloped logging community in 1887, fresh from Harvard Medical School as a young doctor, and remained for 52 years of tireless labor both as a businessman and a caring physician.