I happen to be the owner of a tree nursery in Estonia. Since there are not many nurseries in Estonia, all Estonian presidents since Lennart Meri and members of almost all political parties have planted my trees. Because it’s a small country, information spreads by word of mouth and I haven’t had to spend any money on advertising in years. The political and cultural elite is a tight knit community and once one has become known in that community, further sales are almost certainly ensured.
Toomas Hendrik Ilves, the president of Estonia from 2006 to 2016, had a tradition where visiting heads of state, as well as other important foreign dignitaries, planted trees in the park at his country residence Ärma, near Abja-Paluoja. So when it was the twentieth anniversary of Estonian re-independence in August 2011, I got a call from the American embassy in Tallinn saying that the ambassador wanted to plant a tree to commemorate that occasion. The only requirement was that the tree should be one native to the United States of America. Since I was quite familiar with the park, I knew that the President already had several trees that were native to the United States, and since Estonia can have quite severe winters, there is not much point picking a tree native to California or Florida. After quite a bit of thought and research, I decided on the Colorado fir. Since this tree grows in the Rocky Mountains where the winters can be quite harsh, I knew that this tree would survive the winters at the President’s country home. I discussed this choice with the embassy staff and they were thrilled. However, when I went to my nursery to look over the Colorado firs that I had, I found that they were either quite small or not of the best quality. Since the United States is a large and rich country, I thought that it wouldn’t do to choose a small or second-class tree for them.
Therefore, I phoned one of my competitors to see if they had a larger tree, which they did. They said that it was quite a bit larger than what I wanted, but that it would still fit into the box of my Dodge Ram. Since I knew this nursery was known for digging large rootballs, I thought that I had better remove all unnecessary items, including the spare tire from the box, in order to make sure that the tree with the large rootball would fit. It was only when I had the tree loaded at the nursery that I noticed a large bulge on the side of one of the back tires. Since I was already running rather tight on time, though, I decided not to waste any more time and proceeded directly to Ärma.
... the bulge on the tire had gotten larger and I remember thinking that if the tire blew, then I couldn’t even phone to let them know so that they could send another vehicle to transfer the tree. I had somber thoughts that I would probably then get deported if I didn’t show up with the tree when the President, the American ambassador, and the media were all waiting...
When I was about halfway there, I got a call from the President’s wife saying that the President and the media were present, but where was I with the tree? She also told me that the ambassador wanted to meet up with me in a parking lot in Abja-Paluoja so that we could drive to Ärma together. I told the President’s wife that I would be there at the appointed time: 11:00 a.m., although I knew that making it was going to be tight.
Before driving on, I decided to make a quick stop, so I could run into the woods, so I wouldn’t have to run to the bathroom as soon as I arrived at Ärma (the morning coffee had made its round!). I put my hand under my sweater and dropped my cell phone into my shirt’s pocket. When I got back to the truck, I started looking for my cell phone, but it wasn’t in my shirt pocket or anywhere in the truck! I had an uneasy feeling that maybe it didn’t go into my pocket, but rather, between my shirt and sweater, and that it might’ve fallen out when I ran into the woods. However, I was starting to run late, so I decided that I didn’t have time to look for it if I wanted to arrive on time. As I got into the truck, I thought that the bulge on the tire had gotten larger and I remember thinking that if the tire blew, then I couldn’t even phone to let them know so that they could send another vehicle to transfer the tree. I had somber thoughts that I would probably then get deported if I didn’t show up with the tree when the President, the American ambassador, and the media were all waiting.
... the ambassador said that he wanted to sit in my truck... I was totally unprepared for his request. The seat next to me had a bit of soil on it from one of the previous plant deliveries... But even worse was that on the floor behind the seat there was one of my grandchild’s dirty diapers which I had forgotten to dispose of.
Fortunately, I made it to the rendezvous parking lot and was surprised to see three shiny black SUVs with darkened windows waiting. Of course, the ambassador never travels without his secret service men and some embassy staff. Which made me all the more surprised when the ambassador said that he wanted to sit in my truck. It made sense, of course, because the tree was in the back of my truck. However, I was totally unprepared for his request. The seat next to me had a bit of soil on it from one of the previous plant deliveries, which I quickly brushed off. But even worse was that on the floor behind the seat there was one of my grandchild’s dirty diapers which I had forgotten to dispose of. I quickly shoved the diaper under the seat and rolled down the window a bit more and hoped that the ambassador didn’t notice any smell.
We arrived at the last moment, but fortunately on time. When the embassy phoned to order the tree, I had asked them if they wanted me to come earlier to dig the hole for the tree, to which they replied that the President and ambassador wanted to dig the hole themselves. I don’t think that they had counted on the rootball being as large as it was. In fact, it took quite a bit of work getting the tree off the truck, but fortunately gravity helped (it was loaded onto the truck with a crane). The President and the ambassador started digging the hole. The hole needed to be at least a metre wide and sixty centimetres deep. Toomas Hendrik Ilves was used to physical work. In fact, he had done a lot of the planting around Ärma himself; but the American ambassador was seemingly not used to such hard physical work outside in the hot sun, as soon he was sweating profusely. At one point, he stopped to catch his breath and asked “if the hole was large enough,” to which I replied “no, keep digging.” Finally, I felt sorry for the man and noticed several large, young Secret Service guys with dark glasses and crew cuts watching the digging, to whom I said: “You look like strong men, why don’t you help out with the digging?” To their credit, they took the shovels and the hole got promptly dug. The only guy who didn’t help was the President’s aide-de-camp. He told me that he wasn’t allowed to get dirty, which made me wonder, how was it that the President could get dirty, but not his aide?
The tree—with help from the guys in the dark glasses and crew cuts—got properly planted, and after the photographers and media had cleared out, I was invited inside for a cup of coffee with the President and the ambassador.
After a little tidying up around the tree, I decided to start the long drive back home. I needed to stop and search for my phone, which contained all of my contacts, both business and personal. Fortunately, I remembered running past a skid in the grass on my way into the woods and thought to myself that I should phone the roads department, so they could pick it up before it damaged any equipment when they cut the grass by the side of the road. So I drove quite slowly along the stretch of the road where I thought that I had stopped before, and sure enough, I saw the skid lying there. From there, it was easy to follow the trail through the long grass that I had left going into the woods. At the edge of the woods, there was my phone resting on a large mossy rock!
Relieved that I found the phone, I had barely driven a kilometre or two before I heard a large explosion—my back tire blew! Fortunately, I had my cell phone now and was able to call and get some help, although finding a tire in Viljandi late Saturday afternoon to fit an American truck was not easy. Finally, after coming up empty at several garages, I did manage to find one still open that had tires of the required size. I didn’t even mind having to buy two, because they were only willing to sell them by the pair. The stars were out by the time I got back home that evening, but despite being rather tired, I was happy that things went as well as they did and the tire blew on the way back from Ärma and not on the way there!
