In the movie "Braveheart", there's a crazy Irishman who claims the entire land mass of Ireland as "my Island". Well, I claim this Y-shaped oak tree standing at the end of Island View Avenue in Long Beach, Mississippi, as "my Oak Tree". When my family moved to Long Beach in 1980, Dad pointed it out on one of our first trips into town as we turned onto Island View from Beach Boulevard (Highway 90 to locals). He told me it was my landmark. Even if it was dark or if I missed street signs, when I saw that Oak Tree, I knew I was almost home.When I would come home from college, a lot of times I'd take the beach route intentionally just so I could pass by my Tree. Now that I live halfway across the country, passing by my Tree on the way to the house is a ritual. Since Dad's death, on every trip home there are two places I go by myself. Biloxi National Cemetery is one; this corner of Island View is the other.
I have no idea how old my Tree is. I just know it was here way before me, and I hope it'll be around long after I'm gone. It survived Hurricanes Camille, Frederic, Elena, and thankfully Katrina. After the 2005 monster storm, I drove home with supplies to help out family and friends. After making sure everyone was safe, I anxiously waited for the National Guard to lift restrictions on access to the beach - I wanted to make sure my Tree was still standing. It wasn't until a subsequent trip home that I was actually able to get to the end of Island View and see that, indeed, my Tree had weathered yet another storm. Traffic on Beach Highway must have thought I was some environmentalist freak as I actually hugged the Tree.
And I found Dad was right, yet again:
For a while after Katrina, there were no man made structures along Beach Boulevard, no familiar buildings, no street signs. Navigating along the beach was a frustration even for life long residents. However, as soon as I saw my Oak Tree, I knew I could relax. It was my landmark. I was almost home.
