THE NATIONAL REGISTER of BIG TREES 2000-01

American Forests, Spring, 2000 by Katie Byrne

From his home in Glastonbury, Richardson, 75, treks all over the middle of the state measuring wanna-be champs. He is known for his tenacity with tough ID's.

"I look at the buds, the leaves or needles, the shape, the branch, the fruit, and keep at it until I'm convinced I've got it," he says. That knowledge has come through lot of self-study, a course at the Arnold Arboretum, lots of books, and an occasional consult.

Retired from his job as a vice president at an insurance company, Richardson first read about Connecticut's big tree program in a 1987 article in The New York times. He called up and offered his help. Now he shares his excitement for arboreal treasures through maps of tree trails he designs for public use. "I give tree walks quite frequently," he says.

In addition to taking calls and checking measurements, Richardson is adept at finding his own champs. Richardson nominated several trees for this year's National Register, and more than half of the 300-plus trees on Connecticut's program bear his name as nominator.

His suggestion for would-be tree hunters: "Look on old estates, institutions, colleges, hospitals, cemeteries." The trees planted there have been protected and cared for. He prefers to hunt big trees when the leaves are sill on--which makes them easier to identify, he thinks.

When you take stock of so many of a state's trees you're bound to see all kinds of things. Richardson remembers taking people to see a giant cucumber magnolia that he suspects would have been a national champ had it not had its top "whacked" by a hurricane. The massive tree towered over the yard of a small house. When the family finally decided it needed to be taken down, Richardson said he was shocked to see the mighty tree's trunk was actually about 98 percent hollow, even at ground level.

State big tree coordinator Glenn Dreyer marvels at Richardson's self-taught savvy and boundless enthusiasm, praising his work with parks and cemeteries to create tree inventories, informational brochures, and databases that help people gain new appreciation for the trees around them.

Although Connecticut may not be able to boost an abundance of national champs (it has four), its program is grounded on the firmest of footings, thanks in large part to Ed Richardson.

--Michelle Robbins

DANIEL B. WARD

It's All in the Details

If finding big trees is but one puzzle in the mystery of life, then be glad for puzzlers like Daniel B. Word, a botanist and retired University of Florida professor. Word is big on big trees and he has devoted a chunk of his retirement years to cleaning up, straightening out, and polishing the list of those in Florida.

He describes himself as "a background guy," better at mulling over and solving technical questions than being an acute observer. Despite that modest assertion, Word has dozens of chumps to his name, often found with friends.

In 1990, he and friend Robert Ing, an entomologist, offered to help get the Florida list in shape. They ended up going through the whole list, checking out aid records, remeasuring, and hunting for downed chomps. The acknowledgments page of their hook, Big Trees: The Florida Register (published in 1997 by the Florida Native Plant Society), is loaded with names of people who have helped find and measure the trees.