The Presidency: Eighteen Acres of Harmony

The Richard Nixon Sequoiadendron giganteum became so gnarled and twisted that it choked itself to death right on the South Lawn of the White House. A sad loss, but Gardener Irvin Williams has his eye on another sequoia to replace it. Thus does the life cycle on the White House grounds go on even as in the political world. The Benjamin Harrison Quercus coccinea dropped a limb over the fence onto Pennsylvania Avenue the other night. Nobody was underneath, thank goodness. But be wary. A 100-year-old scarlet oak has some privileges when it suddenly wearies. Nonetheless, the trunk of that tree is still sturdy, and it will be around in one form or another many more years.

A little twister that ripped over the White House grounds this summer snapped the top off John Quincy Adams' Ulmus americana, and one of these years there will have to be last rites for the great elm. Full honors are due: it has been a sentinel for 161 years. An Andrew Jackson Magnolia grandiflora has rotted out, and not even the steel reinforcement rods may be enough to hold it in shape for many more months. When the time comes, sound taps for a 150-year veteran. But be not despairing. Its twin is still healthy and firmly rooted by the south entrance to the White House, and its branches reach up to the windows of the Reagan bedroom. Lyndon Johnson's Quercus phellos has leaped from 15 ft. to 50 ft. in 13 years. Just like the man who planted it, the willow oak seems determined to be bigger and better than anything else within sight. Dwight Eisenhower's Quercus palustris is already 75 ft. tall and shows no sign of slowing down; pin oaks are devils in competition. Jimmy Carter's youngster, Acer rubrum, is a red maple that is putting on two to three feet each year.

Harry Truman's Buxus sempervirens "Suffruticosa" is up to 10 ft. Because the White House police can no longer see over this boxwood hedge at the front entrance, it will soon be trimmed down for better security. And the Fagus sylvatica "Asplenifolia" trees, so lovingly planted by Lady Bird Johnson and Pat Nixon, are gorgeously full of life, even though these fern-leaf beeches are close by the press area, where the air on most days is believed to be considerably hotter than normal.

Nor has anything slowed down Herbert Hoover's Quercus alba, standing a proud 60 ft. In fact, the Hoover white oak has grown rotund, reminding visitors of the fellow who planted it 56 years ago. It makes you wonder if there is some mystic force in Irvin Williams' 18 acres where Nature imitates human nature. Williams has seen just about everything else in his 26 years of coaxing trees, flowers, grass, birds and squirrels to coexist on top of and among security alarms, underground cables and rooms. The battle is constant, but he loves it. There is Grover Cleveland's Acer palmatum dissectum (Japanese spiderleaf) and Franklin Roosevelt's Tilia cordata, the little-leaf linden. They whisper and exult in the breezes and hunker down for the storms. They make grand harmony. "No politics here," says Williams, who moves among the 66 species of trees, pruning, feeding and enticing life to its fullest.