It’s no secret that Columbus enjoys a rich architectural heritage, one that dates back to the first half of the 19th century. Loop through downtown or cruise the Southside neighborhoods near the river. The evidence is abundant.

Fortunately property owners have recognized these treasures for what they are and have lovingly restored and cared for these buildings and homes. Apartments in renovated downtown buildings now number well over 100 and are rarely vacant.

The entire community is enriched by these preservation efforts. Few would argue otherwise.

Unfortunately this mindset does not exist for the equally valuable trees that grace our city streets. Trees that provide beauty, shade, oxygen, higher property values and even an enhanced peace of mind.

Take for example the 100-plus-year-old water oak that until recently graced the corner of Second Street and Seventh Avenue South in front of Colonnade.

Homeowners near that intersection were concerned by the rotting limbs common on old trees and appealed to a city crew to remove the tree.

No problem. In little more than a blink, a tree that for generations has provided shade, beauty and oxygen for residents and passersby is gone.

Thursday morning I stopped by that intersection, which now seems oddly naked. All that remains of a once-majestic water oak is now a stump, four-feet in diameter.

I called a friend who has experience as an arborist and once served on the city’s tree board.

“Hold on, I’ll be right there,” he said.

Five minutes later he was walking toward the stump shaking his head.

He looked at the rings and noted with some surprise how solid the stump was. Trees this age usually have some rot in the core, he said.

“I’ve seen lots of trees this age that needed to come down,” he said, “but this one was solid. It may have had some dead limbs, but (it was) otherwise a healthy tree.”

Later I phoned city hall in Ocean Springs, a city notable for its massive live oaks and its extraordinary efforts to protect and preserve them.

A woman at city hall, who did not want her name in the paper, said the person who serves as the city arborist was out this week; she directed me to the building department on the city’s website.

There I found the city’s “Tree Preservation and Protection Notice,” which deems all live oaks, magnolias, cypress, sycamore and cedars with a trunk circumference of at least 18 inches “Protected Trees.” Trees on public property of any size also have protected status.

A permit is required if these trees are going to be altered in any significant way, even those protected species that happen to be on private property.

The property owner pays a $25 fee for the permit, which is granted or denied after a visit by an official from the city’s Building Department.

The city also requires a Tree Protection Zone, so designated by the Building Department, for any construction on property with “Protected Trees.”

What a contrast. One city that reveres trees and views them as a protected community asset and another that looks upon them as a nuisance to be removed at the slightest provocation.

While I can’t say with absolute certainty this ancient water oak did not need to come down — as noted above, the evidence strongly suggests otherwise — I can say that in this town, we too often cut trees with little deliberation or professional guidance.

Clearly we can and should do better, not only for our well being, but for the well being of generations who follow us.

Birney Imes ([email protected]) is the former publisher of The Dispatch.

Birney Imes III is the immediate past publisher of The Dispatch.