If this tree could talk

Oddly shaped trees, such as one in Moss Park, may hold historical information about early Indian travels

Story by Ali Lamb

In 1997, a small group of local preservationists and Comanche tribal elders crossed into Gateway Park, part of the Trinity River Forest in southern Dallas. Among them was Steve Houser, who grew up in the White Rock area and now lives in Richardson near his tree-care consulting company, Arborilogical Services.

Houser was anxious. He had never spoken with a Comanche. He turned to James Yellowfish, the Comanche tribal historian, and told him how much he respects the way Indians coexist with nature.

Yellowfish amended, “We are one with nature.”

Goose bumps rippled up Houser’s arms, and his sense of delight and anticipation intensified when the group slowed to a stop before the sizeable bent pecan tree.

Linda Pelon, anthropologist and ambassador to the Comanche nation, stood with Houser among the Indians. They presented their case to the elders. Pelon and Houser had exhaustively researched and measured the tree.

The last piece of evidence, however, was not theirs to collect.

The Comanche tribal elders listened. To Houser. To Pelon. And finally, to the tree. Then, in a gesture that was polite yet revealing of the historic distrust between the two peoples, they continued their discussion privately. When they returned to the group, it was with affirmation.

The pecan was one of theirs.

Houser had already known that the tree’s age could place it within the period that the Comanche nation roamed the area. He also knew that Gateway Park was located in what the Dallas Archeological Society had described as “one huge archeological site.” But inside that moment, the most substantial proof of the tree’s historic value was the tribal elders’ affirmation: “We know it. We feel it. We sense it.”

Once the tribe gave its blessing, the group circled around the base of the tree, linked hands — white to brown, brown to white — and danced in celebration of a rediscovered Indian marker tree in Gateway Park.

Pelon describes Indian marker trees as landscape navigation aids. Her belief, founded on nearly two decades of research, is that various Indian tribes would mark a significant area by tying down a sapling. If the sapling survived to maturity, the result would be a full-grown, fully bent tree.

“In terms of navigating the landscape, even great apes will break twigs to mark a trail. So primates have been doing this for a really long time,” Pelon says.

A common function of marker trees was to identify prime camping grounds. Tribes, such as the Comanche Indians, often camped near bluffs and terraces, which they utilized as lookouts and signaling points.

Based on her studies, Pelon hypothesized that the Gateway Park marker tree signaled a Comanche campsite. Then when the tree’s