The survival of two trees, believed to be the oldest on campus, makes almost no sense. For at least 151 years,聽a hemlock and its next door neighbor, a red oak,聽have been growing closer together than probably any arborist would have recommended. On the new interactive historic map of 乐播传媒, they show up as two circles, touching.

Their branches overlapping in places, the hemlock and red oak are boxed in by buildings and structures 鈥� the flying staircase up to Ladd Library sweeps within about six feet of them 鈥� and are so near to Coram Library (completed in 1902), Carnegie Science Building (completed in 1912), and Ladd (completed in 1973) that it is a wonder they weren鈥檛 considered an impediment to any of those construction jobs and cut down. The trees are a little like Carl Fredricksen鈥檚 house in the 2009 Pixar movie Up, enveloped by growth, although in the trees鈥� case, not threatened by anything but age. 

The historic map, a project of the Muskie Archives, debuted last fall, but was only viewable while using campus WiFi. It鈥檚 now available from anywhere with an internet connection, and in addition to giving historical insights into every building on campus over time, ivy stones, memorials and class gifts, it includes the option of exploring the significant trees of 乐播传媒. Courtesy of the research skills (and deep curiosity) of Sam Howes, the reference and digital initiatives archivist at the Muskie Archives, anyone can browse the history of these and 19 other campus trees through photographs, images, and captions. 

The archivists found the first evidence of the hemlock and red oak on a map of Lewiston and Auburn created in 1875 by an unnamed artist and made available for sale in 1876 by J. J. (John Joseph) Stoner, a publisher based in Madison, Wis. It鈥檚 a bird鈥檚 eye view, which the Maine Historical Society allowed Muskie to reproduce for the historic maps project. How the artist got this view is a wonder: 鈥淚 believe what actually happened is he would go up in a balloon,鈥� Howes said. Presumably the daring artist sketched like mad while in the balloon basket. 

The map鈥檚 precision makes it highly valuable to the Muskie Archives and the historic mapping project, which Howes and his colleagues Caitlin Lampman, the education and engagement archivist, and Pat Webber, the college archivist, began working on nearly two years ago, with a digital assist from Jake Paris, senior web developer and designer. 鈥淭his is the only map from this time period that is accurate for the 乐播传媒 campus,鈥� Howes said. 鈥淏asically every other map drawn at this time showed the aspirational buildings that they were going to build,鈥� such as a twin to Parker, on the other side of Hathorn. 鈥淎 lot of those maps actually show it as though that building is there, even though it never happened.鈥�

The hemlock and oak were sketched in ink as a tiny duo in an otherwise empty field, and in fine detail, the shape of a hemlock is distinctive. The two trees are still visible to anyone standing in front of Hathorn Hall, but in that era would have been essentially the only things visible in an otherwise unobstructed view of the Maine State Seminary building, aka John Bertram Hall, which was built in 1868.

Howes found a few key written records of the trees, first in a 1913 interview with Professor Jonathan Stanton, who believed that these trees had been natural growth. A November 1933 edition of the 乐播传媒 Alumnus included a lengthy feature by William H. Sawyer Jr., Class of 1913, who taught biology at 乐播传媒 from 1916 to 1962, titled 鈥淥ur Campus Trees.鈥� 

鈥淥f the original trees on campus,鈥� Sawyer wrote, 鈥渋f there are any, the red oak and hemlock at the corner of the Carnegie Science Building, three large elms on Campus Avenue, and the mixed hardwood and evergreen growth adjacent to the heating plant and 鈥楲ake Andrews鈥� are probably the only survivors.鈥� 

The Muskie Archives has added images of the trees whenever possible (some trees noted on the map live on only in memory, but there are some lush vintage photographs of the elm planted by the Class of 1870, which came down likely after the 1950s). In addition to that 1875 bird鈥檚 eye view, there is a very early photograph from 1890 that shows the hemlock and red oak, and another taken from Mount David in 1903, after Coram was built, that shows the oak beginning to develop its sprawl and surpassing the hemlock in height. A photo from 1910, taken from John Bertram, shows them from the other side. 

The historic campus map project has been almost two years in the making, but it may never be 鈥渄one.鈥� That鈥檚 because little tidbits of knowledge, some in the form of images, others written documentation, or accounts from 乐播传媒 people, continue to come in on a regular basis. Crowd-sourcing will keep the historical map, like the campus itself, ever-evolving.

Additionally, there is the fact that Howes keeps finding new rabbit holes to go down. He鈥檚 spent a lot of time in archives of Lewiston papers, The 乐播传媒 Student, and other publications. 鈥淎nd then you find stuff accidentally,鈥� he said. Howes is more than okay with that; nuggets of information worth adding to the map are true treasures. 鈥淚鈥檓 actually in the middle of scanning a bunch of things now that I鈥檓 like, 鈥極h, OK, I need to add that in,鈥欌�� Howes said, sounding utterly delighted. 

Staff at the Edmund S. Muskie Archives and Special Collections Library love giving walking tours of the campus. They function like walking 乐播传媒 encyclopedias, dropping tidbits about everything from which building was the first one on Frye Street to which are the oldest trees on campus.

But the tours only happen a handful of times a year, and for Caitlin Lampman, the education and engagement archivist who works alongside Pat Webber, the college archivist, and Sam Howes, the reference and digital initiatives archivist, that had started to feel like too small a window to share all the knowledge they hold. 鈥淚t felt like a lot to be just living within Sam and Pat and me,鈥� Lampman said. 鈥淲e wanted it to be more than just three walking tours a year. And we wanted to make it so people could access the information all the time.鈥�

So Muskie Archives, which celebrated its 40th birthday last month, set out to build a time machine. Or rather, a digital time machine. Working with Jake Paris, senior web developer and designer, they stuffed all of that knowledge (plus GPS coordinates and archival photographs) into something that might not fly, but is transporting: a new digital map that provides users with an annotated snapshot of what 乐播传媒 looked like at every stage of its 175-year history.

Layered and interactive, the map dates from the present back to 1855, when the college was founded. For now it鈥檚 available only if you鈥檙e on campus using 乐播传媒 wi-fi (including if you鈥檙e on campus for Back to 乐播传媒 this weekend) but by early 2026, it should be available from anywhere. Scroll through time and see what 乐播传媒 looked like in 1878, when there were just a few lonely looking buildings in a lot of wide open space or 1940, when there were barracks housing student sailors for the Navy鈥檚 V-12 program.

As is appropriate for a map that already shows hundreds of changes big and small to the 乐播传媒 campus over 175 years 鈥� including the location of every Ivy stone 鈥� the new historical map is built for further evolution and flexibility. That flexibility is intended to accommodate the campus of the future, but also to account for all the nuggets of information the archivists expect to learn when the map becomes available to a wider audience. They鈥檝e been uncovering new things about old 乐播传媒 practically every day since the project got started. Take the plethora of tennis courts for instance. 

“Step into my time machine,” said Sam Howes, typing away at his keyboard to pull up an early 20th century map of 乐播传媒. “There were tennis courts all over the place.” It’s not that 乐播传媒 had huge tennis teams in the past; these were courts that offered recreational opportunities for all. They’d be displaced by new buildings, including Dana and Commons, and would be relocated. “I keep finding more in random spots,” Howes said. 

“You do,” said Jake Paris, “Every week, it’s ‘I found another tennis court!‘”

To build the map, Paris used Google maps as the base and relied on a number of modern web app technologies, all very standard. “But the way the map is managed by the Archives office is unique, and intended to be very archivist friendly,” Paris said. “The team at Muskie can control the content simply by updating a Google Sheet and adding photos to a folder in Google Drive.” The app fetches the data from the sheet and then assembles it. “And at the same time, all the photos from the drive are downloaded and compiled into the app,” Paris explained.

Ideally, users will start suggesting and or submitting material to enrich it, because there are still some mysteries to 乐播传媒’ past. Take the Turner annex for instance, a building on Wood Street which was something between a carriage house and a garage. In 1988, for just one year, it was a residence, and Howes would like to know more about what it looked like. 

“That’s the kind of thing where it would be nice if we could have someone who maybe lived there contribute some information,” Howes said. “They might even have a photo.” 

One highly useful  feature of the map is, when you click on a location 鈥� even something as small as  an individual Ivy stone 鈥� you鈥檒l be taken to historical, archival information, including vintage photographs of the building, feature or place. 

Crowd-sourcing is one way to keep the historical map, like the campus itself, ever-evolving. And the archivists keep finding more layers they鈥檇 like to add. Lampman says historical trees, including trees planted by a particular class, or ones named in recognition of faculty members, will eventually be included. 鈥淲e鈥檙e working on that,鈥� she said. 

The project took 18 months because of the level of detail 鈥� and accuracy 鈥� the archivists were going for. And they learned as they went. Take two trees between Ladd Library and Carnegie, a hemlock and a red oak. 鈥淲e think they have been here the whole time,鈥� Lampman said. The evidence? Photos from the 1880s and 1890s. 鈥淎nd for some reason, they have just never been cut down. They鈥檙e right between the two buildings.鈥�

The trees are so wedged in between the two buildings, Lampman says, that it鈥檚 almost a surprise they survived construction. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 know who made the choice to leave them there.鈥� Other trees that haven鈥檛 survived, like the Stanton Elm, planted in honor of Johnny Stanton, professor of Greek and Latin, debate mentor and ornithologist, will eventually get a spot on the map. 鈥淲e have a pretty good idea of where it was.鈥�

鈥淲e think this map is a great product,鈥� said Krystie Wilfong, who is associate college librarian for collections and scholarly communications and oversees the Muskie team. 鈥淚t鈥檚 something that people can really interact with, from alumni and parents to local people from the community. It holds something.鈥� Namely history, and the desire to share it.