Aggie Tree Serves As Touching Legacy

Editor's Note: Ray O. Brooks '43 submitted this essay to The Association of Former Students. It has been lightly edited for clarity.

Not Just A Tree
By Ray O. Brooks '43

There is a live oak that occupies a rather conspicuous place on the lawn of the Brooks home in Henderson, Texas. This tree is not just a live oak; it is special in its genealogy, history and longevity. It is also special in its continuing life-long battle with the high-line wires, its year-long leafy combat with the lawn beneath and its underground root attack on the driveway at its side.

This tree possesses a most interesting and patriotic genealogy, dating back to the First World War. Records reveal that 55 Texas Aggies were killed in the “the war to end all wars.” As a memorial to the Aggies who gave their all for America, 55 live oak trees were planted around the border of the official drill field on the campus of Texas A&M in 1929. Each tree was fitted with a memorial plaque bearing the name of a fallen hero. (See footnote 1.) 

Planning a few years in advance of the 1976 Centennial Celebration of Texas A&M University, a committee of students gathered acorns from the 55 memorial live oak trees and planted them in untold numbers of plastic landscape containers filled with potting soil. A few years passed. Time for the yearlong Centennial Celebration had arrived and so had the 1976 football season.

The many mundane plastic containers once the lowly home of soil and acorns were now home of young live oak trees about three feet in height. As Aggie fans exited the stadium, we were all confronted with the challenge: “Take a little part of Aggieland home with you.” The lady of the Brooks home, Mickey, spoke of buying one. The yard man, Ray Brooks, pointed out the already congested front yard, but somehow one did find its way to their home.

Now that the tree was home, a living and growing place needed to be found. True, looking at the current yard, one sees many ideal places to plant trees. But the 1976, the yard was home to a giant pine tree, three oak trees, a holly tree and a cypress. The home of the new arrival was eight feet from the driveway, 10 feet from the city street and directly under the electric high lines. Really, this was no place for any tree; especially a tree with such an impressive genealogy. Nonetheless, that unlikely place became the home of what Mickey Brooks named, “The Aggie Tree.”

Mickey bought it, named it and guarded it. When it had grown to adult size and the top limbs were invading the electric line, the topping crews came. A truck full of men with saws and trimmers arrived. To their amazement, they found one stern-minded lady awaiting their arrival. At this point, minds met and an agreement was made. Neither party won outright, both compromised somewhat, and the trimmers and cutters unloaded and began work. The work began under the watchful eye of the lady in the rocking chair on the front porch of the little gray house.

This scenario continued until the lady of the house departed her earthly home to rest in paradise and await the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. Still, her protective influence over The Aggie Tree continues. In 2017, the trimmers and pruners arrived. Before beginning their work, the man in charge approached the one the lady had left in charge of the tree. He explained they needed to do some trimming and the tree was so well-located that the trimmers could shape the top. This they did. Now, in its 43rd year in the not-so-good place where it started out, The Aggie Tree appears more graceful then any year before. I am sure The Lady of The Tree would be most happy if she could see it now.

Ray O. Brooks ‘43, Husband of the Lady of the Tree