As a teen, I lived in a Craftsman house in Malvern. Tommy grew up down the street. Billy Bob was across town. Later, they would form the writing team that created "One False Move." But to me, they were just part of the gang that played touch football with my brother in our backyard.

It was that kind of town.

Nor did I know that the tree outside my bedroom, a pin oak, was from a long line of large hardwoods (genus Quercus). This was before Google and Wikipedia, and things simply were.

With its banging plumbing, spooky shadows, curvy lines, funky built-ins and dark exposed ceiling beams, the Craftsman challenged my parents' preference for stately homes. However, the price was right. They attempted to alter its darkness by painting rooms in shades of mint green, pink and baby blue. We moved in with the house partially lightened, partially dark. It was that kind of house.

At first, nothing in the yard was changed: The plantings were from the 1920s when the house was built. So, my tree stood steadfastly outside my second-floor bedroom, throughout my years of pimples, boy phobias and parental irrationalities. Sparrows nested in its branches; blue........

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