The Real History of Giant Plum Trees

A long time ago, before America was discovered even, there were giant plums in Europe that some thought had magical powers – evil powers, some say. When the Black Plague struck Europe in the 16th century, killing millions, many of those in power blamed the giant plums for the pandemic and King Samuel the Brilliant ordered every giant plum tree destroyed by burning. He was so afraid of the giant plums that he went so far as to have the ashes of the trees put in large oak barrels, formerly used for Scotch whisky, and tossed them into the Atlantic Ocean with the hope that his kingdom would be free from what had become known as the “Plum Plague” or “The Great Prune Plague” as some of the humorists of the day referred to it.

He wasn’t actually very brilliant, despite his title, and he wasn’t sure if the evil giant plums could rise from the ashes like Phoenix, Arizona, so being the prudent king he was, he had the ashes tossed into the sea, his philosophy being that of not caring who got stuck with the giant plum problem as long as he was free of it This was before the One World movement and even before America ruled the world.

Wasn’t much funny about millions dying from The Plague, but back in the days before cell phones, computers and refrigerators, one had to find fun wherever one could – otherwise one would dwell in solemnity for about the rest of their natural life – give or take a few years.

Children were brought up not to expect much – parents in those days didn’t lead their kids astray by raising them with a sense of entitlement or selfishness. To be fair, however. if you were not a landowner – and not many were – and you knew you’d never have anything and you knew for sure they would never have anything, so it would be hard for one to feel selfish or entitled; perhaps parents today are not much worse or much different, perhaps it is just that more people have more stuff nowadays. Maybe parenting hasn’t changed much since men dragged women around by the hair and carried clubs.

But…

Needless to say, those barrels filled with giant plum tree ashes had to wash ashore somewhere, of course. And that somewhere was none other than Pecan rock in what would eventually become – sadly – Chesapeake Bay, home of the famous clams. Since no one was living on the shores of Chesapeake Bay except for, of course, Native Americans, the barrels went largely unnoticed because what in the world would a bunch of Native Americans do with a bunch of barrels labeled “Single Malt Scotch Whiskey – Aged 12 Years In Charred Oak Barrels” except chop them up with tomahawks and use them for firewood and tent stakes, which, of course, they did.

But that’s when the trouble started because Native Americans didn’t have a clue as to what to do with all the ashes. They tried to smoke them but the could not get them lit. The tried to feed them to animals but the animals refused to eat them. They even tried to sleep on them but the ashes caused them to break out in hives and become itchy – which is why these particular Native Americans would eventually call their tribe the Powhatan tribe being that Powhatan is Swahili for “ashes”.

You might remember what made the Powhatans famous, besides the ashes: it was Pocahontas and Captain John Smith who eventually were married by Chief Alan A. Mingus, Esq. & Chief. This was a marriage that produced nine robust children and introduced to the world the girl’s name “Ashley” which is now,as most of you know, a household name. Currently some three million females are named Ashley, so you really have to give credit to Pocahontas Smith for her creativity and courage in abandoning the tradition of flowery names for girls.

Before the name Ashley was invented, girls were named after trees and flowers so they had names like Sycamore, Kelp, Ivy, Lotus, Apple, and Algae. Those and other similar names were very popular girls’ names in the days prior to Pocahontas. So all of you ladies with names like Carmen, Kelly, Mary, Lisa, Victoria, and so on, can be thankful that those barrels of ashes washed ashore on Chesapeake Bay at the very same time that Pocahontas and John were in the process of canoodling and otherwise carrying on.

Very thankful indeed.

Since those Powhatans could find no use for the ashes they dumped out of the barrels, and since there was no EPA in those days, three Native Americans, Earl, Peter, and Carl, lugged animal skins bulging with ashes to the top of Mount Cedar and tossed the ashes into the wind which carried them far away from the Powhatans – who as you know by now could find no viable use for them.

Little did they know when they let the ashes blow away in the wind, that mixed in with the foul-smelling ashes were several giant plum tree seeds, which had miraculously escaped incineration and cremation and which would later bring many unpleasant days and nights to the fine citizens of Philadelphia, then known as Hickory Hill Park.

It just so happens that the prevailing Westerlies, deposited the small number of giant plum tree seeds in the area now known as The Rocky Statue and the “Rocky Steps” which was made famous by the movie “Rocky” starring Sylvester Stallone and Talia Shire. This is almost the exact spot of the original sweat shop known as the Hickory Hills Park Sausage Plant #1.

—An interesting note: Talia’s name is a throwback to girls’ names prior to Ashley; Talia is named after the famous root of the licorice plant. Of course Talia Shire’s real name is not Talia Shire at all, but Beatrix Mordello – having been named for the famous Aunt Bee from The Andy Griffith Show and Andy of Mayberry —

Before there was a Rocky Balboa or Rocky Steps, or even a Philadelphia, there was nothing but a Hickory Hills Park and The Hickory Hills Park Sausage Company – Plant #1 –  which went out of business leaving several fecund acres ripe for growing whatever. You see, Philadelphia – then called Hickory Hills Park due to all the wild oak trees which grew there in the hills – was a small village of 19 people, all but one of whom – the mayor – worked at the sausage plant, including the seven children. This was way before the days of unions or the child labor act – so if you could walk, you could work. After the sausage plant closed, the townsfolk went on welfare and were stricken with much woe.

But even so, it’s not that anyone deliberately wanted to bring Armageddon to the fine folks of Philadelphia – or Hickory Hills Park as it was known then – it was a completely unrelated chain of events that nearly destroyed Philadelphia before it even got a chance to be Philadelphia.

As it were, those few precious giant plum tree seeds, that were hidden in the bags of ashes, tossed into the wind by those brave Native Americans, fell from the ashen cloud that sailed on the prevailing Westerlies; its pernicious cargo wafted down on fecund fields of Hickory Hills Park which we now all know and love as Philadelphia.

The evil, yet magic, giant plum tree seeds were voracious growers – so voracious in fact, that today we extract HGH – Human Growth Hormone – from its roots. Not to worry though – this is all done under tight security, in highly restricted facilities by men wearing masks and floppy jackets all regulated and controlled by the FDA in cooperation with the Pennsylvania Amish. You will learn more about the Amish Guard later.

Remember, the sacks of ashes were tossed into the wind long before the EPA or the FDA and even before the U. S. government brought its iron fist down upon the land; this was back in the pre-colonial days when just a handful of old German sausage makers had settled the barren land later to be discovered by William Penn – which is why we all know and adore it as Pennsylvania in modern times. Otherwise, had William Penn never been born, there is a good chance we would now be saying “Philadelphia, Sausagevania”.  Luckily we don’t have to thanks to one man: William Penn, first cousin of Johnny Appleseed.

The Germans are always trying to take over the world, as I am sure, by now, you all know. But back in those days they tried to do it using sausage – their plan was to addict Native Americans to sausage and then control them by withholding sausage when they were bad and giving them all they wanted when they were good – sort of like Pavlov’s dogs. Unfortunately for the Germans, the Native Americans were already highly addicted to tobacco and persuasive enough to induce the Germans to become addicted to tobacco in a very unlikely – but true – turn of events.

It wasn’t long after this that a splinter group of Germans, led by Herman Marlboro settled in North Carolina and the rest, as you know if you smoke, is history. So everyone who was or is addicted to cigarettes can blame the Germans and Native Americans for that. If things had turned out like the Germans wanted, we’d all be addicted to sausage which would have exacerbated our society’s weight problem, but would have reduced the number of folks who suffered from and eventually perished from chronic lung afflictions.

But as they say – it’s always something, ain’t it?

Now as the folklore goes, giant plum trees, yield giant plums which, of course, make great giant prunes. But it seems these giant prunes have an evil streak. Once blamed for the Black Plague in Europe it seems they were even more insidious when grown on North American soil. And supposedly, one Native American, named Jobu, after visiting Haiti, came back an oracle of voodoo. Plums and prunes are not native to North America nor the Native American diet, but were instead introduced to Pocahontas by Captain John Smith who stored plums in the hold of his ship to prevent scurvy on long sea voyages. Obviously, storing the plums in the hold did not, by itself, prevent scurvy – one had to consume them first. But, Lo! and Behold! when he reached the New World most of the plums had turned to prunes and quickly became a favorite of the Native Americans as well as the European white folk, including the Germans who were always walking around in a cloud of tobacco smoke –  having been thoroughly addicted by Native Americans who eschewed German sausage but adored tobacco.

And it was then that normal and giant prunes became a food fad unlike any the New World had ever seen. And unlike sausage, the Native Americans loved prunes as much Europeans did. All was well and good and everyone, Native Americans and Europeans alike, were as regular as regular can be – thanks to a diet loaded with prunes and prune juice – which would later become readily available thanks to Benjamin Franklin.

The giant plum trees grew wildly in Hickory Hill Park and naturally these plums were soon turned into giant prunes – which, because of their size – as large as a soccer ball – were coveted by everyone, including the sausage and tobacco loving Germans. Though the plum trees grew wildly, there were never enough giant prunes to meet the constantly growing demand of this nascent prune-loving nation.

It follows that Jobu, upon returning from Haiti and seeing the chaos and injury caused by people fighting over giant prunes, cast a voodoo spell on the giant prunes in order to make them bitter and disgusting so no one would want them. Unfortunately, Jobu, was never sure which voodoo spell to use so the giant prunes began to change but not by becoming bitter and inedible.For Jobu, new to voodoo, made an error and it was said that every giant prune began to have a face on it which looked very much like Vlad the Impaler, who would later be brought to fame by Bram Stoker’s “Dracula”.

As it were, the legend of Vlad the Impaler had spread not only to the New World but to the Old World and the Middle-Aged World too. So it should not surprise anyone that when folks cast their eyes upon these giant prunes with the face of Vlad the Impaler on them they fled in terror lest they find themselves stuck up on a pole listening to the jeers and wild chanting of the madding crowd.

The legend of the giant prunes spread quickly and as the tale passed from person to person, each embellishing the tale a little more, the legend became folklore. There were horrifying stories of prunes attacking people, eating them whole and devouring entire villages in the quiet of the night. There were tales of roads lined with impaled men and women writing in agony. And it was said that if you stood outside of the old sausage factory in Hickory Hills Park – now known as Philadelphia – at midnight on Halloween night, you could hear the screams of the workers as they were eaten alive even while there were in the process of eviscerating hogs and stuffing natural casings with freshly-made sausage.

All this stuff was hooey of course, but you know how folklore goes. People stayed away from Hickory Hills Park and from giant prunes until Benjamin Franklin built a house right smack dab in the middle of Hickory Hills Park. surrounded by giant plum trees and not more than a stone’s throw from the old decrepit sausage factory,

Lions and tigers and prunes? Oh my!

People took to the hilltops with binoculars to watch the demise of Benjamin Franklin expecting to see him eaten alive or  impaled and displayed on the hallowed grounds of the former German sausage factory. Much to their surprise — and much to the relief of Mr. Franklin, —- the much anticipated consumption of, or the impaling  of,  Benjamin Franklin never occurred.

In fact, Benjamin Franklin, had printing presses dragged in and set up in the west wing of the sausage factory and began publishing “Poor Richard’s Almanac” which was an instant hit thanks, in part,  to such witticisms as:

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”

“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

And my personal favorite:

“In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.”

“Poor Richard’s Almanac” became the world’s most successful publication propelling Franklin into the world spotlight. With the money he earned from the almanac he became rich and started playing around with kites, musical glasses, and French belles in his spare time. He grew richer and richer, and decided that like all rich people, he may as well get into politics, which, of course, he did. “If you’re rich, “ he said, “it is your duty to govern those poor hayseeds who are stupid and living in poverty. We must educate the masses so they become smart and subsequently rich and can therefore lead their fellow man to fame and fortune. To hell with the poor and stupid; ;they exist only to make me richer.”

OK. He didn’t really say that but he might have said it had he not been in France all the time taking baths with young French maidens. And I am not making that up, honest. That’s why a lot of men these days still admire Ben Franklin – and it’s probably why he’s on the $100 bill as it probably cost around $100 – a huge amount of money in those days –  to take a bath with a young, nubile French maiden – especially when you’re a man in your 60’s like old Ben was at the time.

Well, more power to him, I say!

After the success of Franklin’s “Poor Richard’s Almanac”, and his discovery of electrocution, and subsequently the lightning rod and the glass armonica – as well as many other things – people flocked to Hickory Hills Park despite the folklore surrounding the giant prunes; they just wanted to be near Benjamin and watch his continuing antics. After he sold “Poor Richard’s” to Hearst Publications, he used his printing presses to mash giant prunes into prune juice and sold it from a roadside stand in front of the old sausage factory. It is interesting to note because of its historical significance: not only was this the first ever prune juice, it was sold  from North America’s first ever roadside stand. – which later led to Dairy Queen and other fast foot establishments – and, of course, over-priced farm markets.

So, once again we have to admire Ben Franklin for his inventiveness and creativity.

Hickory Hills Park grew larger and larger as people flocked to Franklin’s roadside stand to buy prune juice. A tent village grew up near the roadside stand so no one would ever be more than a short walk from the fresh prune juice. But alas, eventually people became despondent as their odds of eyeballing the real Benjamin Franklin grew slimmer and slimmer.  Most of the time young German kids to ran the stand  while good old Ben was off playing around in France, This also meant that various kinds of German sausages were added to the stand’s growing list of available items. But still it was the prune juice is what brought people from near and far.

As the success and fame of the roadside stand spread across the wilds of North America, old Ben spent more and more time bathing in France.

One day, upon returning from yet another trip to France to bathe with yet another French maiden, Franklin changed the name of Hickory Hills Park to Philadelphia, in honor of the most recent French bathing companion, whose name was not Talia Shire as you’re probably thinking, but Phyllis Delphia, who yearned to be Franklin’s lady in waiting. She may as well have wasted her time trying to get Native Americans addicted to German sausage rather than wasting her time trying to win Ben Franklin’s heart. Because as Ben, in one of his other famous witticisms remarked:

“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? “

Now, hundreds of years later, giant plum trees and giant plums are nowhere to be found. The last remaining giant plum trees and giant prunes can only be found in an undisclosed location in Southern Pennsylvania and they are being guarded by Amish men with beards and pitchforks. America, of course, now runs the world; Native Americans have conquered their addiction to tobacco and have turned to the much more profitable – and healthy – enterprise of running casinos; Benjamin Franklin, despite his foibles and numerous dalliances, has become a national icon; the Germans still make great sausage, and girls are still being named Ashley instead of Moss, Juniper, and Boysenberry – and I for one, am glad of that.

And now you know the real history of the giant plum trees.

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