‘The Sycamore Sentry’: Memories of Cantrall, 1950s

The Silent Sycamore Sentry, 2025 (SCHS)

(This entry is excerpted from Old Cantrall: The History of a Small Village Carved Out of the Illinois Wilderness, a work-in-progress by Cantrall native Andrew Wasilewski.)

“It was a special place during a special time with special people, but it has passed. This morsel of knowledge has prompted me ever more often to recognize the blessing of another day of living, the beauty and abundance of nature, and the wonderment of people in my life.”

Andrew Wasilewski (Sept. 20, 2024)

At the peak of the ridge line overlooking the well-defined Cantrall Creek valley sat the Silent Sycamore Sentry. From this tree’s perch, it could see the village: Curry’s Store, the post office, the depot, the elevator, the railroad, the school, the churches, the coal mines, Wood’s Tavern, and at the precise opposite side of town, Wimpy’s Garage. It could see Edith trek to the post office in the morning, home for lunch, and repeat the cycle in the afternoon. Early each morning, John Curry came out the kitchen door of his house and walked a short well-worn path to the back of the general store. On the same block was another path that cut diagonally across Ed “Cuck” Wood’s property. It was used regularly by kids, Cuck, and his wife, Mickey. Cuck affixed his prosthetic and trekked from the backdoor of his house to the backdoor of the bar. He was less regular than Curry because his hours of operation were from the time he got there until the time he left. Wimpy, too, had a path, though made of cement, from the backdoor of his home to the backdoor of the garage.

Twice daily, the sycamore saw steam engines pulling coal cars heading to Havana. The engines groaned when climbing the grade to the northwest of town. Passenger trains headed southeast in the morning and northwest in the afternoon. The mail arrived in the afternoon, and Mr. Don Leckrone pulled the mail wagon to the post office. The day was not complete without the Greyhound bus stopping near the railroad tracks at First and Canterbury.

However, these images are only those most familiar to me, overlooking the time when the settlers arrived. The wanderings of my mind tell me the Silent Sycamore Sentry watched over the Cantrall Creek bottom all those years and saw the pioneers climb off wagons or dismount horses to take stock of their dreams. It could recall others arriving to harness land with an axe or plowshare. It knew one day the black gold underground would bring Italian, Irish, Polish, and English immigrants to work for Mr. Peabody and other coal mine owners. It saw the town platted years ago.

Does the Sycamore smile with a far deeper sense of knowledge knowing fur trappers were here – even the one who in my childhood imagination had a one-room trapper’s camp on our property? Abraham Lincoln knew him and even spent a night there. Native Americans living along the Sangamon River almost certainly followed the Cantrall Creek upstream to fish, hunt, and gather.

Cantrall Village Hall (former town jail), 2025 (SCHS)

My nephew/godson Bryan Brennan measured the Sentry Sycamore at a general height I prescribed. It was eleven feet in circumference, showing it was approximately 125 years old. Like any good high school science student looking to fulfill a lab project might do, he possibly massaged this data. Did Bryan measure a bit too high? If the big bow in the tree was due to damage from the 1995 tornado, did that stunt its growth? (I do not recall it having such an odd configuration in the 1950s and ’60s.) Even if the Silent Sycamore Sentry’s roots are not deep enough for it to see all Cantrall’s history, its daddy or big brother told him about the years missed.

Songs, poems, quotes, stories, and movies speak of some sappy guy having a strong connection or deep roots to a place and time. I hardly can conceive of others holding a stronger attachment than my own to a hometown. Through the years, trips home nourished this connection: family reunions, time in the house, taking Mom to visit one of her daughters, spending a few minutes with old friends, driving around town, taking in the environment and nature’s bounty – farms, timbers, Sangamon River, Cantrall Creek, farmers working fields, crop dusters, and massive fields of corn, beans, and wheat. I feel entwined with nature when seeing soybean and wheat fields bow to gusts of wampus cat winds moving across the prairie, knowing the strength of the alfalfa roots and admiring the tall, endless rows of corn.

The pioneers who settled the land were pragmatic people of action and vision. They kept their eyes on the horizon: Levi Cantrall boldly built a gristmill and created a tannery; George Power constructed the first frame home north of the Sangamon River and served justice on the frontier; Stephen England established the county’s first church; and Abraham Lincoln’s engagement in politics brought to bear the Lincoln-Douglas debates. These debates were the media bonanzas of the day and brought issues of popular sovereignty, freedom, and slavery to the kitchen table. Abraham Lincoln’s political skill helped make Springfield Illinois’ capital.

Levi, along with Colonel Matthew Rogers of Athens, sited a route for a road from Sangamo Town to the Fort Clark Road, which went to the ferry at Middletown, crossed the Salt Creek, and on to the Fort, which was near present-day Peoria. Levi was a petitioner for roads, and he helped Lincoln survey the post road from Athens to Sangamo Town. Lincoln later surveyed land for the Cantrall family. As a lawyer, Lincoln prosecuted, defended, and occasionally presided over legal proceedings. Cases were regularly held in Judge Power’s courtroom. Furthermore, it is documented that Levi Cantrall served as juror for one of Lincoln’s last cases held in Springfield.

These same men knew the importance of transportation routes in building an economy. Before rail service, George Power’s cattle drive to Philadelphia made him aware of inherent dangers and monumental challenges to bring livestock to market. Abraham Lincoln helped clear the Sangamon River in a critically failed attempt to show it as a practical commercial route. Later, he defended the company who built the first bridge across the Mississippi River. He, along with political opponent Stephen Douglas, promoted the establishment of the Illinois Central Railroad. Levi Cantrall’s son helped build the Chicago and Illinois Midland railroad.

Happenstance or destiny, I know my unique connections to descendants of Levi Cantrall and George Power and my special interest in Abraham Lincoln helped me personalize this writing. At times, I felt it was the Universe’s intent I should tell this story. My work is finished. It is your choice to read and judge the result; I only ask you to recall I never claimed to be a writer nor a historian – just a kid who was blessed to grow up in Cantrall.

Cantrall south end; star shows approximate location of the sycamore (SCHS)

Editor’s note: The sycamore was still standing guard in 2025 (see photo at top of entry), but it takes some work to find. Turn west off Illinois 29 onto Canterbury Street (near the railroad crossing). Continue west to unmarked Fourth Street (down a hill, across a small creek). Follow the roadway to the south up the hill; the tree will be on the right.

Expected publication date of Old Cantrall: The History of a Small Village Carved Out of the Illinois Wilderness is late 2025.

Contributor: Andrew Wasilewski is a graduate of Cantrall Grade School, Athens High School and Western Illinois University. He received his master’s degree from Northern Michigan University in 1971. Wasilewski, who retired as NMU’s associate vice president, now lives in Marquette, Mich. He can be reached at Oldcantrallcreek@gmail.com.

Old Cantrall was edited by Tyler Tichelar, Ph.D., also of Marquette.

Editor’s note: Andrew Wasilewski is the brother of Vincent Wasilewski, president of the National Association of Broadcasters from 1965 to 1982.

Copyright Andrew Wasilewski; all rights reserved. Learn how to support the Sangamon County Historical Society.