American Chestnut Tree

Good news:

Source: Scientists work to create blight-resistant chestnut with hopes of restoring tree to America | US Forest Service

A coalition of federal agencies, states, nonprofits, universities and private citizens have been working to create a blight-resistant chestnut. The American Chestnut Research & Restoration Program at the State University of New York has developed one such tree, known as Darling chestnut.

This effort is part of a larger initiative to use forest biotechnology as a tool to protect and restore our nation’s forests from the ravages of pests, diseases and other threats. Collaborators include the Forest Service’s Southern Region and its Southern Research Station, the American Chestnut Foundation, State University of New York, University of Georgia, Penn State and Virginia Tech. The Forest Service has provided funding, technical expertise and sites for test plantings of traditionally back-crossed chestnut seedlings, including the Pisgah, Cherokee, Nantahala, George Washington, Jefferson, Allegheny and Green Mountain national forests.

The Forest Service, in close collaboration with the U.S. Endowment for Forestry and Communities, chose chestnut as the initial prototype to support forest restoration. Approval of this blight-tolerant chestnut would lay the framework for restoration of other tree species, such as ash and hemlock, that have been similarly devastated by invasive species.

The Darling chestnut is being reviewed by three federal agencies: Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service (as biotechnology in agriculture), U.S. Food and Drug Administration (as a genetically engineered food) and U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (as a plant incorporated protectant).​

Why is this important?

The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Poems | Academy of American Poets

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow1807 – 1882

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
⁠The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands,
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long;
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.​

Bob Wilson