Strangler’s Tree stood in the paddock behind our house. It was an ordinary looking tree but when the fog descended it took on an eerie countenance.
Which was fortunate for the tree as its name came from the deaths occurring beneath its twisted boughs in the 1890s.
The strangler was my Great Uncle Horace who despite the evidence against him of being discovered with his hands around the necks of Pensive Di and Suzy Vincent on two separate occasions, pleaded his innocence all the way to the gallows.
There were moves by my family to tear the tree down but the community stepped in and protested against its removal as they argued my family needed to be reminded of the grief one of our kind brought to so many others.
So the Strangler’s Tree remains and the story of my Uncle persists and like all stories over time has grown in stature to the point where my family now run tours and talks on the tree and the life of the Strangler. A book has been written, you can buy any number of souvenirs and images of Great Uncle Horace adorning coffee cups, t-towels and t-shirts.
Great Uncle Horace has turned out far more lucrative in death than he ever was in life.