Tulsa’s Hanging Tree: Key Points
- The Hanging Tree is a bur oak more than 200 years old at Three North Lawton Avenue in Tulsa. It has a trunk over 17 feet around and a low limb about 12 feet off the ground.
- Between 15 and 20 people were reportedly hanged from the tree for breaking Creek law between 1870 and 1889. The best-known story involves three cattle rustlers hanged at the same time.
- In the 1920s, workers digging sewer lines found human remains at the tree’s base. No one ever identified them, but the discovery seemed to confirm the old stories.
- Legend says that on certain nights you can hear an old rope creaking in the breeze. Ghost tours and paranormal writers have helped keep that story alive.
- A spring beneath the tree may explain its unusual size and age. Believers think the creaking is a haunting, while skeptics blame wind, nearby noise, or the power of suggestion.
- Owners, citizens, and city officials have protected the oak many times, including with a 1989 petition that stopped plans to build a criminal justice center on the site. Today it stands as a living reminder of Tulsa’s Creek roots and frontier past.
Introduction
Three North Lawton Avenue, in downtown Tulsa, has an ancient bur oak on a site that has witnessed several changes. Locals call it the Hanging Tree, or they name it the Creek Hanging Tree. The moniker is a giveaway for its notoriety. According to legend, a person who defied a Creek law in the late 1800s was hanged from one of the tree’s limbs. Since then the tree has gained even additional stories: bones unearthed, mysterious noises at night, and initiatives by citizens to preserve it alive. The Hanging Tree is important because it brings together several things: an old tree, a violent and contested past, a collection of ghost stories, and a city that opted to save a relic of its frontier history.
Historical Context and the Hanging Tree
The term “hanging tree” conjures lynching as a means of racial horror in the name of white supremacy. Several references point to lynching and public violence as central to the historical racial order in the United States and, consequently, as a comparative reference for discussions of racial violence in the Americas more broadly (including Brazil and other contexts) (Martins, 1995; Nascimento, 2019; Acioly & Sayão, 2023). Tulsa itself is a pivotal case in a larger arc of extrajudicial violence against Black communities, widely analyzed in the light of incidents of mob violence, official participation or indifference, and the ongoing history of racial fear (Martins, 1995; Nascimento, 2019; Acioly & Sayão, 2023). Racially is obviously a factor in Tulsa, although many of the frontier hangings were not necessarily racially related.
The tree is a spectacle on its own. Teri French (2010) called it a magnificent 216-year-old bur oak, standing dignified and serene on the grounds that had been the Oktoberfest headquarters. By that measure, the tree began growing in the 1790s, which was before Oklahoma became a state and before the Muscogee (Creek) people were relocated to Indian Territory. Its best known feature is a hefty lower limb, about 12 feet off the ground. French (2010) pointed out that the height of the branch makes it easy to see a condemned man standing atop a wagon as it rolls out from under him. The trunk is big, too. In 1998, when the City of Tulsa Board of Adjustment considered an application to park on the site, the record reported the oak as greater than 17 feet around. One local blogger who often passed the tree commented, “It always looked alive to me in a scary kind of way.” (Yogi, 2011, para. 1) Its size, age, and shape are reasons why so many stories have grown up around the tree.
Hangings, Cattle Thieves, and Human Remains
Hanging tales lie at the heart of the tree’s folklore. According to French (2010), in the late 1800s, anyone who defied Creek Indian law may be punished with a short rope, a noose, and a stout branch. She said 15 to 20 persons were hung from the tree between 1870 and 1889. The most famous story is about three cattle thieves who were executed together. Parkman (2020) echoed this data in TulsaPeople, stating that the publication believed the low limb was the best height for public executions. The tale just becomes darker from there. Some tales say that a passenger train passed immediately after the three rustlers were hanged, so travelers witnessed the bodies swinging from the tree. Even the blogger that passed this tale on acknowledged that he had no idea where it came from and didn’t know if it was real (Yogi, 2011). That doubt is an example of folklore growth. Each recounting can add a detail, and the dramatic elements tend to stick around.
A tragic discovery in the 1920s made the legend seem more real. During the development of the neighborhood, workers constructing sewer lines unearthed many human remains at the base of the tree (French, 2010). No one ever looked to see whose bones they were or what became of them. Maybe they were the three cattle thieves. They could have been other people sentenced to hang, or someone else entirely. The discovery shocked Tulsans and appeared to confirm the traditional beliefs (French, 2010). Later, houses and duplexes were built around the tree and the oak stood in the area as a testimony to the past, as French termed it.
Ghost Stories and Explanations
Ghost stories have inevitably sprung up over the site’s history. The most familiar has to do with hearing, not seeing. Legend has it that on some nights you can hear the squeak of an old rope twisting in the wind from the tree’s branches (French, 2010). That’s what’s disturbing about the story. Nobody says they see a rope, but some people swear they hear one. Things like these: People usually pass on stories like these by word of mouth, often coming from those who are familiar with them, and many come from people who know the tree’s history before they even visit. French is more than a mere collector of these tales. She formed the Paranormal Investigation Team of Tulsa and organizes Tulsa Spirit Tours, which takes people to sites in the city that are rumored to be haunted (Green Country Oklahoma, n.d.). Her effort has helped keep the mythology of the tree alive in local memory.
Many ideas have been proposed to explain the tree’s secrets, and they operate at different levels. The first is about the tree surviving. Bur oaks are large, long-lived trees capable of surviving under a variety of conditions, and a spring is also supposed to stream below this particular tree. Constant availability of water has been proposed as one explanation for its size and longevity, although the tree’s species is itself capable of attaining great size and age. The second theory involves the bones. The apparent interpretation is to attach them to the hangings; however, they were never recognized and other theories exist. The third notion is concerning the sound of a ghost. For believers, the creaking rope is a lingering haunting, an echo of horrific deaths playing out in the same area. Skeptics point to more mundane factors. And old limbs rustle and squeak in the wind. And a city lot by railroad tracks is usually noisy at night. And suggestion matters too. A visitor familiar with the story is more likely to hear a creak as a rope.
The fourth theory casts doubt on the story itself. The record of frontier justice in Indian Territory is sometimes fragmentary, and methods of execution were not consistent throughout the Territory. In certain nations firing squads were utilized. Each of the Five Tribes had its own legal system. For instance, the Choctaw court site at Alikchi permitted condemned prisoners to settle family problems before returning to face death (Oklahoma Historical Society, n.d.). But that larger context does not disprove the occurrence of the hangings in Tulsa. It does suggest that the narrative of the tree may be a combination of formal Creek justice, vigilante action, and later folklore. Who they were, how many they were and how they perished may never be known with exactness. That ambiguity is part of the reason the legend has persisted.
Preservation and Cultural Significance
Maybe the tree’s greatest impact has been in what it has taught Tulsa about conservation. In 1977 owner Albert Freiberg contacted the Oklahoma state forestry division to obtain samples to assess the age of the tree and the results showed that it was over 185 years old (French, 2010). Later Monte Troxell purchased the site for $29,000 and a commitment not to cut down the oak. He fulfilled that promise. He took the rest off the land and left the tree (French, 2010). In 1989, the land was offered as a new criminal justice center. Citizens thought the tree would be destroyed and thus organized a petition and prevailed (French, 2010; Parkman, 2020). Years later, Tulsa leaders were still defending the tree. The City of Tulsa Board of Adjustment approved a parking exception for the property in 1998, citing the preservation of the ancient oak as the hardship, since paving under its branches might have damaged the roots (City of Tulsa Board of Adjustment, 1998).
The tree is also culturally significant. It’s a reminder to Tulsans that the city arose out of Creek land and Creek law, not just oil money and modern development. It reveals that local history encompasses not only achievements but also violence and tragedy. It also provides writers, historians, and ghost hunters with a real-world venue to tie their stories to. Parkman (2020) included the tree in a broader report on Tulsa’s prominent oaks. Paranormal tours and books have introduced it to new audiences who otherwise may not have heard of it (Green Country Oklahoma, n.d.). So the tree is at once a historical marker, a natural landmark, and a backdrop for local legend.
Conclusion
Tulsa’s Hanging Tree has survived more than 200 years of development. It is a notable bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa), with a low, sinister limb, a remarkable age, and a local tradition that a concealed spring may nourish its roots. The town’s grim past, which has never lost its reputation, includes reported hangings in the years 1870-1889, three rustlers, and unidentified human remains. That reputation lives on for new guests, with the story of a creaking rope in the night. Theories regarding the tree include scientific, supernatural, and historical perspectives, but none definitively answers the problems it poses. One thing that is obvious is that Tulsa decided the tree was worth keeping. Time and again citizens attempted to save the tree with private promises, public petitions, and city decisions. The tree is a living witness to a past the city has opted to remember.
References
Acioly, D. A. B., & Sayão, S. C. (2023). Violência policial, racismo e autodefesa. Revista Interdisciplinar De Direitos Humanos, 11(2), 143–163. https://doi.org/10.5016/ridh.v11i2.255
City of Tulsa Board of Adjustment. (1998, February 10). Minutes of meeting no. 743 [Meeting minutes]. Tulsa Planning Office. https://tulsaplanning.org/cityboa/minutes/1998-02-10-BOA-Minutes.pdf
French, T. (2010). Tulsa’s haunted memories. Arcadia Publishing.
Green Country Oklahoma. (n.d.). 9 ways to explore haunted Green Country. https://www.greencountryok.com/plan-your-trip/travel-ideas-inspiration/9-ways-to-explore-haunted-green-country/
Martins, J. de S. (1995). As condições do estudo sociológico dos linchamentos no Brasil. Estudos Avançados, 9(25), 295–310. https://doi.org/10.1590/s0103-40141995000300022
Nascimento, C. A. da S. (2019). Uma era de contradições: segregação e resistência afro-americana no período progressista, 1890-1920. Revista Eletrônica Da Anphlac, (27), 103–143. https://doi.org/10.46752/anphlac.27.2019.3434
Oklahoma Historical Society. (n.d.). Alikchi Court Ground [Historical marker]. https://www.okhistory.org/sites/markers?action=Search&county=McCurtain
Parkman, K. (2020, February 21). Phantom limbs. TulsaPeople. https://www.tulsapeople.com/the-voice/writers/kathryn-parkman/phantom-limbs/article_3d141568-c1a3-55b3-a60c-6ee24b3c956d.html
Yogi. (2011, March 21). Tulsa’s hanging tree. Yogi’s Den. https://yogisden.us/?p=1060
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