Cornelliana When ‘the Stump’ Was a Campus Landmark—and Soapbox Stories You May Like Decades Ago, Avid Photographer Captured Campus Life on Film Once Upon a Time, Canines Cavorted on the Hill—Even in Class Take a Bough: Slope’s Iconic Tree Long Predates Ezra The remains of a mighty tree felled by Dutch elm disease, it became a nexus of news and opinion during a turbulent era By Joe Wilensky At first, it was simply called the “graffiti tree”—having been painted the month after it was cut down. But students quickly discovered it could be much, much more than that. Posters were tacked on it; it was painted and decorated for various occasions. And most notably, it became a well-positioned perch and soapbox for political speeches, rallies, and demonstrations, as an era of student unrest kicked into high gear. Before it was "the Stump,” of course, it was a tree—one of dozens of majestic American elms that lined Central and East avenues and graced the Arts and Ag quads. But Dutch elm disease (along with another common malady, phloem necrosis) claimed at least 1,000 of the Hill’s trees during the ’60s and ’70s—a quarter of those on campus at the time. The CornellianColorfully painted in 1974. “Tree Trauma: Trees stricken with Dutch Elm Disease are felled in front of the Straight,” announced a Sun headline on October 23, 1968, above a photo of several being dismantled. To this day, it remains unclear exactly why one of them—just to the right of the Straight’s main entrance—was left as a six-foot-tall stump. Was it meant to serve as a memorial to its departed brethren? A retrospective in the Sun years later claimed that it had been meant to “pacify students who had bitterly protested the tree’s removal”—though no records of such activities have been found. Stately elms line Central Avenue in the 1920s. More than 40 years later, the second from the front would become the Stump. Nevertheless, for nearly a decade, that lone stump became “the Stump.” “It was heavily posted with announcements and notes that, in today’s world, would be on social media,” says Douglas Yoder ’69, recalling that the Stump was once even the subject of a satirical write-in campaign for student body president. “Back then, we only had the Stump.” It was heavily posted with announcements and notes that, in today’s world, would be on social media. Douglas Yoder ’69 The elm’s remains gained more widespread fame in April 1969, when it appeared in national news coverage of the Straight Takeover. In one of the Stump’s most iconic moments—captured in the Daily Sun photo at the top of this story—the then-leader of Cornell’s chapter of Students for a Democratic Society stood on it with a bullhorn, rallying support for the occupation. Daily SunIn 2012, students briefly revived the tradition with a hexagonal wooden box outside the Straight. More than 55 years later, David Burak ’67, MFA ’80, recalls that the Stump didn't just offer a conveniently elevated platform for his oratory. At one point, he says, it helped safeguard him from counter-protesters who were trying to prevent him from speaking. “Luckily, I had worn some sturdy Western boots,” he recalls, “which, along with the circumference and height of the Stump, provided protection.” The Stump later resumed its more pedestrian life as a campus bulletin board, graffiti canvas, and meet-up spot. Cornellians often painted it to mark friends’ birthdays, or to advertise Greek events. “The Stump was a no-tech, college version of a Times Square billboard,” says Moira Hearne Hintsa ’74. “It was dynamic, with a new appearance just about every day. It had the perfect central location, in the middle of the heavy traffic to the Ivy Room for lunch and study breaks—plus, it was on the way to the Straight desk, which was the Google and ATM of the era.” The Stump was a no-tech, college version of a Times Square billboard. Moira Hearne Hintsa ’74 One morning, Hintsa was delighted by the Stump’s newest décor: two friends, she says, had “spent a dark and frigid January night” painting it in honor of her birthday. Stories You May Like Decades Ago, Avid Photographer Captured Campus Life on Film Once Upon a Time, Canines Cavorted on the Hill—Even in Class But the beginning of the end came on November 5, 1975, when the Stump was vandalized. ProvidedAs it appeared on the morning of Hintsa’s birthday in 1973. In what might have been a genuine but misguided effort to solicit a donation to UNICEF, a group of students lopped off a three-foot, 1,300-pound chunk. They later ran a classified in the Sun, suggesting a ransom for the Stump’s return. The amputated section was later found in nearby Treman State Park; no ransom was paid, as a Sun reporter had been tipped off as to its location. Students examine a vandalized Stump in 1975, and its last remnants are removed in 1977. Workers made several attempts to reattach it with steel rods, but vandals knocked it over again a month later. The lopped-off piece was eventually abandoned. And by April 1977, the University had removed the remaining stump and planted a gingko tree in its place. The replacement tree at the Stump's original site, and in its current location. A small plaque noted the tree's provenance and connection to the bygone elm. In the mid 1990s, the replacement tree and plaque were relocated several feet away as part of the Central Avenue and Ho Plaza reconstruction project. But at least one small piece of the Stump endures. One tiny slice remains, with paint chips still clinging to it. Carefully preserved, it resides in the University Archives—along with such treasures as a Shakespeare First Folio and a handwritten copy of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. Top: David Burak ’67, MFA ’80, atop the Stump in April 1969 (Daily Sun). All images courtesy of Rare and Manuscript Collections, unless otherwise indicated. Published July 21, 2025 Do you remember the Stump? Leave a Comment Cancel replyOnce your comment is approved, your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment * Name * Class Year Email * Save my name, email, and class year in this browser for the next time I comment. Δ Other stories You may like Campus & Beyond Big Red, Big World: How Alumni Travel Curates Varied Voyages Alumni On a Glorious Fall Weekend, Cornellians Come Home Alumni Doctoral Alum Has Devoted His Career to Saving Lemurs