09/08/2026
When Brittani Murray moved to Mount Oliver in 2021, her block on Amanda Avenue boasted one single public tree. It stood in a vacant lot owned by the borough, surrounded by masses of disorderly weeds, its roots resisting confinement, cracking the concrete like Godzilla breaching the surface of the sea. Genus uncertain, in and of itself it was nothing noteworthy: not the oak famed for mightiness or the willow fraught with emotion.
Still though, it was a tree. “This was a big, beautiful tree,” Murray said. “It was our only real shade.” Residents catching buses at nearby stops with neither shelter nor seats waited it out beneath its branches, resting in chairs Murray placed there for that purpose. The tree served as backdrop for her daughter’s first- and last-day-of-school pictures.
In 2023, the borough cut it down. Murray asked the worker tasked with the chore why. They didn’t know. The tree had been the only one nearby, save a couple in private yards sticking to themselves behind fences. So Murray decided to replace it, maybe even expand upon it, by securing some sidewalk plantings.
But replacing that tree has not been an easy task.
Read more at publicsource.org
✍️: Lissa Brennan
📸: Jason Alpert-Wisnia