Toomer's Corner

A few of you probably know that I went to Auburn and if you follow my twitter, you probably got tired of seeing my tweets this afternoon about the Toomer's Oaks being poisoned. Hopefully, I didn't lose any followers but I can't apologize for my overtweeting...

Some people responded and asked why I was upset and what the big deal was. Most people in the South know that we roll Toomer's with toilet paper after a win but not many people know why or why this is important to us.



There are a number of explanations for this tradition out there but the most plausible and the one I choose to accept is this one:

Before cell phones and before people had landlines, word of college football results would travel via telegraph. The only telegraph in Auburn was located on the corner of College St and Magnolia Ave at the local drug store - Toomer's Drugs. To notify the town of the win, the telegraph operator would run out and toss rolls of telegraph paper into the trees. Sometime in the 50's the tradition grew a little bigger and has continued to grow every year. The trees see action every time something great happens in Auburn, everything from a gymnastics win to graduation. The trees have grown to be as much of a part of Auburn as the colors orange and blue, War Eagle and every member of the Auburn Family.

When I saw the first tweet concerning the trees today, my heart sank and tears started to well up. I questioned the emotions that I had concerning trees but then I started to realize just how much these trees meant to me and every other Auburn man and woman.

The only member of my family that cared about college football was my grandfather and he was an Alabama fan. It was pretty much a given that you inherited your team preference and by default the rest of my family were Alabama fans as well, though no one really cared. There is a can of "Roll Tide Red" and a Coke bottle commemorating Bear Bryant's 315 wins at my parents house.

There wasn't much commotion when I crossed over and became an Auburn fan in third grade because I had a crush on a girl. No one really thought it would matter in the long run but as I grew to understand things, I began to recruit the rest of my family. Eventually, everyone was turned with the exception of my grandfather who remained an Alabama fan in "the only game that mattered".

I made a few visits to campus in high school with the assumption that I would end up there but I never really understood things until I attended my a game as a senior in high school. Auburn had invited me up to "War Eagle Day" and given my parents and I free tickets to our first Auburn game. My eyes were opened as I watched a mediocre team that would end up 8-4 beat Western Michigan in the middle of all the fans. We moved on to Toomer's Corner where I threw my first roll of paper and I got a game day t-shirt from Tiger Rags.

When I was accepted and started taking classes, we were we on the downward slope toward the end of Terry Bowden's career as coach. We began to relish every opportunity we had to go to Toomer's with seasons that ended as 3-8 and 5-6. But things turned around and we started to improve, even ending up as SEC [and National] Champions in 2004.

The crazy thing is that the trees on that corner weren't supposed to be there. Someone had planted two live oaks that shouldn't be able to live, much-less thrive in Auburn, AL. They would do great in sandy coastal soil but in the rocky Lee County clay, the trees didn't stand a chance.

For a 130 years, the trees have grown and stood strong to countless events that would have damaged or killed an ordinary tree. They've been hit by cars, set on fire [twice] and been hosed down on a regular occasion to remove the remnants of the most recent celebration.

I have my favorite memories of the Toomer's oaks but I won't bore you by telling you about Toomer's 2000, going to Toomer's after the first loss to Alabama in Auburn, the entire 2004 season or Nicole's first roll that she threw as part of the Auburn Family.

These trees aren't something that can be replaced once they are gone. There will never be another tree that has the same branches or grows with the slight twist that the one on the left had and the lean the one on the right had. My kids won't be able to throw their first roll into the same tree that Nicole and I did. And that's what makes me sad.

Through everything, the constant reminder that we'd come back and that the Auburn Spirit wouldn't fade were the two trees at the corner of Magnolia and College. In victory, the reminder that we had it in us all along were the two trees at the corner of Magnolia and College. They were the ever present reminder that we had stood the test of time and we had it in us to persevere. The Spirit will live on, even though our trees may die and even though it won't be the same tree, my kids will hear the story of the old trees when they toss their first roll into the new trees.

Every school has its traditions and I'm glad you stuck it out to the end of this post. I'd love to hear about your traditions and maybe be able to experience them myself. What I've learned singing "The Boys of Old Florida" with my arm around a stranger, seeing the Cockabooses and the Volunteer Navy is that we aren't alone. Every school has its traditions and we have to work to keep things in perspective when we live in the South.

Pick up a copy of my buddy Chad Gibb's book, if you haven't already. I'm sure you'll be able to relate and take something great away.