Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic Site ⓘ

Fairsted is the setting for many stories; not only stories of Olmsted's landscape and legacy, but tales including those of the Olmsted Elm. You can follow the design process through the work in Fort Tryon Park, or dive into the firm's expansive model making, or the clerical workers who supported the site's operations.

Some Olmsted stories began before his arrival at 99 Warren Street. Olmsted's Civil War service brought him into contact with many national figures of the day, including President Lincoln. His interactions with President Lincoln continued in Olmsted's preservation work after the Yosemite Valley Grant Act of 1864 . Olmsted served as one of the first Commisioners appointed to manage this land grant. His Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Big Tree Grove Report of 1865 establishes one of the first overarching texts noting the importance of human and natural world interactions, the effects of the "sublime" landscapes, and the role of government to protect and preserve these places. Other stories may be only legends, like the tale of Captain Kidd's Treasure. Frederick Law Olmsted even wrote stories for his children! You can also check out our Multimedia page for even more stories!

Photo courtesy Cherokee Garden Library, Kenan Research Center at the Atlanta History Center

After Frederick Law Olmsted’s revolutionary work on Prospect Park, the City of Brooklyn purchased an additional 52-acres of land, for additional park space but with the hope that it could be turned into a garden.

The land was left undeveloped until 1910, at which point Olmsted Brothers were called in to create the sites first plan. John Charles and Frederick Jr. worked closely with C. Stuart Gager, Brooklyn Botanic Garden’s first director. Gager, stationed in Missouri before making the trip to Brooklyn, was in constant communication not only with Olmsted Brothers, but also McKim, Mead, and White, who were commissioned to design the gardens laboratory and plant houses.

Though Brooklyn Botanic Garden is largely the product of Harold Caparn, the landscape architect chosen to when construction on the Garden was commenced, Olmsted Brothers original design still seeps through in every corner. A walk through Brooklyn Botanic Garden will transport you back in time, with a chance to learn from the some of the country’s leading landscape architects

In 2019, Meadow Road was transformed to the 1860s, becoming a Parisian carriage road that led Amy and Aunt March right into the oncoming path of Laurie. That carriage road was the same one Charles Sprauge Sargent, hired as the founding director of the Arboretum, asked Olmsted to design with him, revealing the planting arrangements they had worked so hard on. Though it would go on to become North America’s first public arboretum, Olmsted did initially have some reservations about the project.

In 1868, the same year Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women was published, James Arnold, a whaling merchant from New Bedford, dies and gives Harvard $100,000 to create an arboretum on land owned by farmer Benjamin Bussey. The natural woods of Bussey farm were incorporated into the plan, and to this day, there is still substantial growth in those woods.

Like many Olmsted designs, the intention was naturalistic, fitting in with existing topography and vegetation. However, to create a living museum some alteration was in order. While walking along the main road of Arnold Arboretum, you’re presented with plant collections sequentially according to genus.

If you’re a fan of Frederick Law Olmsted, you may have discovered that many of his great projects have been significantly altered over time, some completely disregarding Olmsted’s original designs when doing renovations. Arnold Arboretum wasn’t just another of Olmsted’s great public parks; it also served as a tree museum and scientific research station. In the 148 years since Arnold Arboretum was established, the dual purpose of park and museum has prevailed.

Nearing the end of World War 1, the United States came to the realization that degraded housing conditions for the lower and middle classes, those assembling the much-needed supplies for the war, impeded production. Wanting to fix their mistake, the United States Housing Corporation was assembled to build accommodations for wartime industrial workers.

Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. was tasked with heading the Town Planning Division of the US Housing Corporation and, in this position, he brought about an unprecedented mobilization of landscape architects, architects, and engineers to provide plans for new communities, one of those communities being Grand Canyon Village.

Though Jr. did trust the landscape architects he brought on, every single person working for the Housing Corporation received a rough plan and suggestions from Olmsted for each community. However, El Tovar Hotel was a true Olmsted Brothers project.

El Tovar Hotel followed Olmsted Sr.’s belief that any structure in a park drawing attention away from the works of nature was inappropriate. Following the training of this father, Jr. insisted that planning of the hotel should be done through consultation of topographical and other natural features.

Grand Canyon Village epitomized the most skillful planning techniques of its day, perhaps because its early planners understood the effects of a relatively unobtrusive building in the middle of wilderness.

As the nation’s economy expanded in the final decades of the nineteenth century, the Olmsted firm gradually added both commercial and industrial landscape projects into its portfolio, although such jobs constituted a late addition and focus to the firm’s design work. This aspect of the firm’s work is particularly diverse in scope, ranging from early civic improvements focused on transportation systems and utility projects to a broad sector of commercial enterprises such as banks, nurseries, laboratories, life insurance companies, corporate headquarters, shopping centers and manufacturing facilities. There are more than 175 projects included in this category, of which approximately 70% advanced into design plans, with the vast majority completed after Frederick Law Olmsted’s retirement in 1897.

A notable early exception is the substantial project for the Boston and Albany Railroad, which consisted of some ninety-five plans between 1880 and 1884 and was later completed by Olmsted, Olmsted & Eliot. This project represents an important evolution in the urban fabric of Boston, for it provided a new public transportation system that connected the growing suburbs to the city. Although listed only as Boston, this single job represents distinct design elements for multiple stations, primarily in Wellesley, Newton and the Allston/Brighton section of Boston, Massachusetts, that address site grading, track layout, platform location, bridge design and planting. At the same time, the Olmsted firm’s work on behalf of the Ames family in North Easton, Massachusetts, included plans completed in 1883 for the North Easton Train Station designed by H.H. Richardson, which coincided with a distinctive body of work nearby. This category also includes a significant design project for Rockaway Point on Jamaica Bay in Queens, New York, (listed as New York City), completed in 1879 to create a summer resort in association with the new rail service.<

During the first decades of the twentieth century, the Olmsted firm’s commercial projects increased substantially. The list includes a significant number of projects completed for the growing utility and communication industries (e.g., Western Electric Company in Chicago, Illinois, and Baltimore, Maryland; the Wyman and Androscoggin Dams for the Central Maine Power Company; Bell Telephone Labs facilities in Deal, Holmdel, Mendham, Summit and Whippany, New Jersey; and sewage treatment plants in Fitchburg and North Adams, Massachusetts). This period of affluence prior to the Depression also generated demand for landscaped grounds associated with commercial buildings, especially financial institutions and insurance companies, evidenced by several projects undertaken by the firm (e.g., Aetna Fire Insurance Company in Hartford, Connecticut; the First Brunswick Federal Savings and Loan Association in Brunswick, Maine; the Maryland Casualty Company in Baltimore, Maryland; and the Massachusetts Mutual Life Insurance Company in Springfield, Massachusetts).

Several jobs included in this section relate directly to more extensive work referenced in other thematic categories, or which came about because of the Olmsted firm’s involvement nearby. For example, on Mount Desert Island, Maine, the work of Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. with John D. Rockefeller Jr. in the development of the motor road systems for Acadia National Park may have led to the firm’s involvement from 1942 to 1950 in the Jackson Laboratories, located in Bar Harbor, adjacent to the park. Following World War II though the later years of the Olmsted Associates, the firm experienced a surge in commercial and industrial projects that included continued work for insurance companies (e.g., John Hancock Mutual Life Insurance Company in Boston and Brookline, Massachusetts; State Mutual Life Assurance Company in Worcester, Massachusetts; and the Berkshire Life Insurance Company in Pittsfield, Massachusetts) as well as corporate offices, retail centers and manufacturing complexes (e.g. , Crane and Company in Dalton, Massachusetts; Sears, Roebuck and Company in Saugus, Massachusetts; General Motors Frigidaire Division in Dayton, Ohio; and the Jack Daniel Distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee). This period also included noteworthy projects related to hospitals and medical research centers such as Ledgemont Laboratory in Lexington, Massachusetts, and the Sloan-Kettering Foundation in Rye, New York. Finally, an interesting aspect of the firm’s later commercial and industrial work includes design plans for nurseries and garden centers, such as Weston Nurseries in Hopkinton, Massachusetts. These businesses may have provided plant material for the firm’s other projects.

Text from The Master List , written by Lauren Meier Explore other places like gardens , churches , country clubs , cemeteries , industrial buildings , private estates , public buildings , residential institutions , subdivsions , city planning , campuses , fairs , and the many, many park designs .

In 1863, Oaklands most prominent citizens joined together to establish a cemetery just north of the city. They asked Frederick Law Olmsted to begin his first work in California and design the 209-acre hillside property.

Olmsted created his initial plan in 1864, though he would refine it over the next two years. He carefully selected drought-resistant plants that would line curving uphill paths, allowing for expansive views of the Bay Area, while also screening the cemetery from heavy winds.

For his design, Olmsted drew on the philosophy of American Transcendentalism, which was popular at the time. As open space began disappearing in cities, people began flocking to cemeteries, which they saw as a replacement for the forests and fields taken up for development. Mountain View Cemetery stands out from the other cemeteries of its time because of Olmsted’s vision to look at man and nature and their relationship to one another.

To compliment his winding paths, Olmsted brought in trees simple in form and color, though distinctive in shape, which helped create a setting of beauty and peace. He designed Mountain View Cemetery to serve as an example of a civilized life, where one both lives and dies in harmony with the environment.

As families began buying up plots in the cemetery, it appeared the resting place would serve the affluent of the Bay Area, with many monuments being erected on the grounds. When Olmsted began work on Mountain View Cemetery, the land was 209-acres. Since then, it has expanded to over 226 acres, though with every new addition, there is sensitive treatment to Olmsted’s original design.

In 1910, Richard T. Crane, Jr. was also a man of exorbitant wealth, though he didn’t move to Ipswich to stir up anything. Crane inherited the top post in his family’s manufacturing company and expanded it into modern bathroom fixtures. Crane even had an exhibit at the Chicago World’s Fair, where he displayed “the world’s largest shower”.

Crane purchased the 165-acre plot of land and knew exactly what he wanted: a bowling green, tennis court, maze, log-cabin playhouse, golf course and deer preserve. Crane and his family also ran a self-sustaining farm with livestock, an orchard, and dense vegetable and rose gardens, which space needed to be made for.

Crane was building his summer getaway during the country place era, a period of landscape architecture design where wealthy Americans commissioned extensive gardens at their country estates, emulating European gardens. To this day, Crane Estate is one of the last surviving, intact American estates from this era.

Crane brought on the most prominent landscape architects of his time: Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. and John Charles Olmsted, of the Olmsted Brothers firm, and Arthur Shurcliff, who had left the Olmsted firm in 1904 to start his own. Shurcliff was mentored by Charles Eliot, who like himself, left the Olmsted firm to open his own.

The Olmsted Brothers designed a series of Italian gardens for the Crane Estate, all enclosed by evergreens, the same one’s you see lining the Grand Allée, where Daryl Van Horn chooses to have lunch.

Though the Olmsted Brothers started work on the Grande Allée, they were dismissed by Crane and work was handed over to Arthur Shurcliff. From 1913 to 1915, Shurcliff worked on the half-mile long formal mall leading from the Crane Mansion to the Atlantic Ocean.

In 1949, the Crane family donated the land to the Trustees of Reservations, which was founded by former Olmsted firm employee and mentor to Arthur Shurcliff, Charles Eliot.

Frederick Law Olmsted knew George’s father, William Henry Vanderbilt, when they both lived on Staten Island. Olmsted had already done several projects for the Vanderbilt family when George approached him in 1888, asking for advice on the 120,000 acres of North Carolina property he’d just purchased.

At the age of 66, Olmsted made his first journey to Asheville to visit George Vanderbilt, then 25 and the recent inheritor of $13 million (around $350 million in 2020). Unlike many projects Olmsted had worked on, Vanderbilt had the money to carry out his designs, and he knew exactly what he wanted: an English manor style estate.

“The soil seems to be generally poor. The woods are miserable, all the good trees having again and again been culled out and only the runts left. The topography is most unsuitable for anything that can properly be called park scenery. My advice would be to make a small park in which you look from your house, make a small pleasure ground and gardens; farm your river bottoms chiefly and…keep and fatten livestock with a view to manure and…make the rest a forest”

Olmsted was able to convince Vanderbilt that the land would be better suited with a grand garden area close to the house and turn the remaining acres into a forest, providing the home with spectacular views.

In Olmsted’s final project, he built a nine-mile arboretum that went from the house, to the French Broad River, and back up to the house again. He also planned the entry way to the Biltmore as a pleasure drive, passing through a “natural forest”. That natural forest contained clusters of trees that purposely blocked the view so that visitors would be shocked when the curtain of the forest was pulled back and you could finally see the house.

Despite ill health and the pressure of the Chicago World’s Fair, Olmsted traveled by rail several times to Asheville, ensuring his designs were being followed. He felt the transitions between formal and natural gardens were important to differentiate, as was the use of native plants, and a balance of small trees and large shrubs.

Following Olmsted’s suggestions, Vanderbilt hired trained forester Gifford Pinchot to develop a management plan for his land. Together with Olmsted, they founded America’s first large scale managed forest, and the cradle of U.S. forestry.

The Capitol we see today underwent extensive expansion in the mid-19th century, and who else to plan and oversee that work but Frederick Law Olmsted.

In 1874, with the additions of House and Senate wings, as well as a new dome, the grounds surrounding the Capitol also needed to be enlarged. Describing his plan for the Capitol, Olmsted said that “the ground is in design part of the U.S. Capitol, but in all respects subsidiary to the central structure.”

To not detract attention away from the Capitol Building, Olmsted was careful not to group any trees or other landscape features together. He also strongly believed that the use of sculptures and other ornamentations should be kept to a minimum.

While Olmsted was determined to have the grounds compliment the building, he also felt the need to address architectural problems that had persisted for years. Washington, D.C. was expanding west, and the terraces of the Capitol Building did not seem to support that notion. Olmsted proposed marble terraces on the sides of the building to “gain greatly in the supreme qualities of stability, endurance, and repose.”

Work accelerated in 1877, both on the building and the grounds. Olmsted employed over 100 varieties of trees and bushes at the Capitol, with thousands of flowers used in seasonal displays. In 1878, after hundreds of flowers had been destroyed or stolen by vandals, watchmen were appointed to patrol the grounds and proved quite effective, allowing the lawns to be completed.

In 1885 Olmsted retired as superintended of the terrace project, though he continued to direct work on the grounds until 1889. His goal in working on the Capitol was not to detract from the building but compliment it with the grounds. He did so by contrasting the buildings straight lines with the curved walkways of the grounds, the same grounds a bill must walk in the hopes to become a law.

In 1917, after realizing how unprepared the U.S. was to train hundreds of soldiers needed for a world war, the government created the Committee of Emergency Construction. The Committee, which would chart the course for all war-related construction that would follow, was joined by Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.

The Committee’s main responsibility was selecting sites, plans, and contractors to erect training facilities for the U.S. military. With the help of civilian engineers recruited by Olmsted, site selection boards made rapid progress in finding appropriate sites for training facilitates

The Committee used cost-plus contracts, where contractors would be paid in full for all expenses, plus additional payments to allow for profit. A disagreement arose in the Committee, with some arguing that cost-plus contracts would open the doors for inefficiency and fraud.

Jr. told the Committee during the Spring of 1917 that “on the whole, the wise thing to do in the case of the cantonment work with its extraordinary urgency” would be to implement cost-plus contracts. Those cost-plus contracts would require $10,000,000 to be spent in the first three months at Camp Blanding, a new training facility in Florida.

Camp Blanding would be such a big undertaking, the Committee was scared to put anybody on the job except large, well-known contractors. A naturally wooded and swampy area, contractors were first alarmed by the area’s poor topography.

As construction began, heavy Florida rains turned unfinished roads into seas of muck, and a site with naturally poor drainage like Camp Blanding suffered. The first military groups trained at Camp Blanding faced the similar conditions Union soldiers had endured during the Civil War, with lack of proper restroom facilities. Like his father before him, Olmsted Jr. worked to eradicate these problems.

Atlanta entrepreneur Joel Hurt, who had already developed transportation, utilities, and real estate in the city acquired a large plot of land for residential use. To gain public support for his proposal, Hurt reached out to Atlanta’s most prominent families, including Coca-Cola founder Asa Candler.

Frederick Law Olmsted first came to Atlanta in the late 1880s, on the invitation of Hurt, where Olmsted listened to his comments on the physical developments of the growing city. In his earliest proposal for Druid Hills, Olmsted stated the land had “roads of moderate grace and curves, avoiding any great disturbance of the natural topography.”

Olmsted agreed to take on Druid Hills and began developing a plan to unify the community by unifying the landscape, transportation, and people. After several visits to Atlanta, financial setbacks halted the project for several years. Before work resumed, Frederick Law Olmsted had retired, and the work was passed on to Olmsted Brothers.

Though development on the 1,300-acre plot of land began after Olmsted’s retirement, his designs are still a prominent part of the community. Olmsted designed a stretch of land following Druid Hills central roadway, Ponce De Leon Avenue, where 6 narrow public spaces were incorporated to separate vehicular traffic from pleasure traffic.

Frederick Law Olmsted and his sons created a magnificent urban neighborhood that became Atlanta’s first suburb. The powerful combination of structure and natural elements created a relaxing effect on the tensions of urban life.

Druid Hills was completed in 1905 and represents a major innovation in suburban design, one that influenced suburbs all over Atlanta.

In 1913, a group of California investors purchased 25,000 acres of land on the Palos Verdes Peninsula and hired Olmsted Brothers to develop the expansive coastal landscape. Originally both John Charles and Frederick Jr were working on the project, however World War One caused years of delays, and by the time work resumed in 1920, John Charles had died, and the development of Palos Verdes was left to Frederick Jr.

Jr. was assigned the task of replicating a Mediterranean oasis in Palos Verdes, and it would become one of Olmsted Brothers largest and most complex projects. Taking input from scientists, engineers and horticulturists, Jr. transformed Palos Verdes from a rugged, hilly terrain to 16,000 acres of homes, country clubs, resorts, golf courses, and parks.

In a 1923 report explaining his decisions on the entrance to Palos Verdes, Jr. would " advise against a large plaza or any other marked demonstration at the property line where it would be liable to be spoiled by developments in contact with it outside the property. I think the most effective treatment at the entrance will be… passing through this sylvan gateway for a considerable distance then widen out into an impressive demonstration where the view of the valley and hills and sea can burst upon one.”

Even though the entirety of Olmsted Brothers’ plan was never realized, the concept they brought to Palos Verdes of a controlled, exclusive, Mediterranean-style community lives on, and has influenced the development of surrounding communities.

The sweeping views and vistas of the rocky coast and Pacific Ocean Jr. provided for so many residents of Palos Verdes was just too enticing for him, and in 1925, Jr. would move his family to a home in Palos Verdes, where he could continue to work.

While Piedmont Park was designed by the Olmsted Brothers, Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. was the first in the family to walk across the land the park would eventually become. During the late 1880s and early 1890s, this land was the venue for numerous fairs and expositions.

In 1895, the site was chosen for the Cotton States and International Exposition, at which point Olmsted Sr. was consulted on the layout of the exposition, influencing elements of the plan. After the extravagant exposition, Atlanta was unsure of what to do with the 187 acres of forest.

The City of Atlanta was hesitant about buying the land, believing the park was too far away from the city. However, in 1904 Atlanta purchased the land that would become Piedmont Park, and even extended its city limits to encompass the park acreage.

In 1909, Atlanta elected to transform the decaying fairgrounds into a park. They wanted their own Central Park, though its designer, the Sr. Olmsted, had passed years before. So, Atlanta got the next best thing; they hired the Olmsted Brothers to develop its master plan.

The Olmsted Brothers plan would utilize already present stone stairways as access paths between the different levels of the park’s grounds. Despite the City agreeing to pay $1,800 for the plan, Olmsted Brothers were concerned Atlanta may not have enough money to make necessary improvements as they came up.

As the Olmsted Brothers worked on Piedmont Park from 1909 to 1912, the design they implemented reflected the picturesque style and design principles they had learned from their father. The Piedmont Park the Olmsted Brothers designed featured broad grassy lawns and playing field, shaded woodland with over 15 miles of walks, drives, and bridal paths.

Due to budget constraints, some, but not all, of the Olmsted Brothers’ plan was realized. Nevertheless, the Olmsted Brothers plan greatly influenced the development of Piedmont Park. Much of the landscape and vistas remain today, providing green space for the urbanized neighborhoods surrounding the park.

Though the Olmsted Brothers plan wasn’t fully realized, the current master plan for Piedmont Park, adopted in 1995, honors the brothers’ original vision for the park.

Frederick Law Olmsted didn’t teach in a classroom or assign homework. Instead he taught his students, future professionals in landscape architecture, about the best practices for achieving an urban park.

Though he wouldn’t go on the have a career in landscape architecture, Samuel Canby was one of the many concerned professionals who reached out to Olmsted in the late 1800s, seeking advice on how to better his hometown of Wilmington, DE.

Enthusiasm for open green space was growing the United States, thanks in large part to European park planning, where social and economic forces meant creating a better environment for the masses a priority.

In 1883, Delaware legislature passed a bill providing "Public Parks for the use of the citizens of Wilmington and vicinity, and creating a Board of Park Commissioners to take the care and management of such lands as would be acquired under the provisions of the act.”.

Canby, the first president of the Board of Park Commissioners, was also appointed chief engineer in laying out the new park. Immediately, Canby sought the advice of Olmsted.

Olmsted took a trip to Wilmington where he viewed several possible sites for the new park. Upon seeing Brandywine Creek, he enthusiastically recommended the land along the water be obtained for a park.

With Olmsted as his teacher, Canby made sure to embrace and enhance the natural beauty of the land. Also, from Olmsted, Canby blended roads, pathways, and walkways to make them inconspicuous within the park landscape.

Not only is Brandywine Park the largest urban park in Delaware, it was the first park established in Wilmington, fulfilling the growing city’s need for public recreational space.

Though Olmsted Jr and his father both contributed extensively to California State Parks, and the National Park Service in general, today we’ll focus specifically on Jr’s fight to protect California’s natural wonder.

In 1917, then NPS director Stephen Mather traveled with a group of conservationists in California to investigate the old growth redwoods that were being logged in vast numbers. Shocked and saddened by the destruction they saw, a year later they established Save the Redwoods League in the hopes of protecting the groves by purchasing the land they sat upon and creating a public park.

The League enlisted Olmsted Jr in 1927 to conduct a survey of the area, eventually laying out the long-term goals for the California park system. Being a respected voice in the conservation community, it makes sense the League and California wanted him to shape their vision.

Olmsted Jr’s master plan for saving the remaining 5% of California’s Redwoods was a success, and in 1953 Redwood National Park dedicated Olmsted Grove to the man whose contributions to protect our national parks will forever be as powerful as the trees he fought to protect.

In 1886, Olmsted Sr. warned that “the charmingly wooded glen of Rock Creek [was] in private hands, subject any day to be laid waste”. Throughout his career, Olmsted fought hard to warn anyone who would listen of the dangers that lay in keeping such beautiful land private.

It wasn’t until Olmsted Jr. was chosen to be part of the McMillan commission, in charge of developing both the core and park system of Washington, D.C., that Rock Creek Park would get its deserved attention.

Once on the commission, Olmsted Jr. encouraged his colleagues to endorse the acquisition of land for new public parks and scenic drives throughout the city, including the preservation of Rock Creek Valley in its entirety.

By 1918, Olmsted Jr. and his brother John were busy on the plan for Rock Creek Park. They proposed dividing the landscape into six distinct areas that remain today. The topographical and psychological backbone of the park, their report stated, would be the area along the banks of the creek and its tributaries. This “Valley Section”, as it was described, would be preserved in its natural state, with only the addition of scattered picnic spots.

Rock Creek Park’s “woodland” would consist of the western hills and plateaus, contained in the South by Military Road. Olmsted Brothers saw the “woodland” area as a spot for intensive use; their report recommended the installation of hiking paths and numerous picnic groves. Olmsted Brothers even saw an area beyond their “woodland”, designated “wilder woodland”, and it was to be preserved to the highest degree.

By the early 1870’s New Orleans, and the rest of the country, was noticing how successful Central Park was becoming, and it hadn’t even been completed yet! City Officials in New Orleans knew they wanted to hire Frederick Law Olmsted to design a park for their city. Due to many cities having that same thought, Olmsted sent two employees to New Orleans to work on City Park.

Two engineers on staff for the Olmsted Firm arrived in Louisiana: John Bogart and Colonel John Yapp Culyer. Bogart had been an engineer on staff at both Central Park and Prospect Park, while Culyer, also an engineer at both Central Park and Prospect Park, also followed Olmsted to D.C. to help form the United States Sanitary Commission.

While in New Orleans, Bogart took notes on the sites condition and created a plan for the City to reference. The two engineers received the first half of their fee, but the Park Board refused to pay the rest, believing that their plan was inadequate.

Obviously frustrated, Bogart and Culyer sued for the remaining money. Despite loosing in a lower level court, they prevailed and received their compensation after brining it up in Louisiana’s Supreme Court.

The lawsuit certainly took some excitement out of citizens and the prospect for a new park. It wouldn’t be till the early 1930’s that the Olmsted name would return to City Park, this time as Olmsted Brothers.

Among their work at City Park, Olmsted Brothers focused heavily on designing the area surrounding Popp Fountain, a memorial to local lumber tycoon John Popp. Though the Popp family donated the money to the City of New Orleans, they requested Olmsted Brothers assist in its design, wanting the best for their namesake.

At the Northern terminal of the Emerald Necklace, you will come across two very different landscapes. While the Boston Common is a primarily unobstructed open space, the Boston Public Garden contains a lake, and a series of formal plantings to compliment.

The Boston City Council believed “the area of our city is too small to allow the laying out of large tracts of land for Public Parks, and it behooves us to improve the small portions that are left to use for such purposes”.

Thankfully, Olmsted’s previous work at the Back Bay Fens gave Boston the expanded space it needed. Though the Boston Public Garden lay stagnant for many years until funding and a design was approved, at which point the salt marsh was established as the first public botanical garden in the United States.

While his father did some work in the district, Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. had an enormous influence over the design of Washington D.C. Starting as a member of the Senate Park (McMillan) Commission in 1901, Jr. founded and served on the Commission of Fine Arts from 1910 to 1918, and was a member of the National Capital Park and Planning Commission from 1926 to 1932.

The National Capital Park and Planning Commission was tasked with restoring the National Mall to its original design as Pierre Charles L’Enfant had envisioned it. Olmsted Jr.’s redesign of the National Mall, beginning in the mid-1930s, helped to transform a densely planted Victorian park into formally arranged lawn panels lined with trees. This design would emphasize the importance of the view between the U.S. Capitol Building and the Washington Monument.

Olmsted Jr. made radical planting changes during his work on the National Mall, removing nearly every tree and replacing them with rows of American elms, following what was described in the 1901 McMillan Plan. Olmsted’s work of many decades, not just on the National Mall but Washington D.C., helped create a city threaded by parks, creating a unified special composition.

In 1919, the National Parks Association was founded as an independent supporter of the National Park Service, to protect and enhance our park systems for generations to come. The NPA Board of Trustees was filled with prominent American conservationists, including Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.

By 1928 the campaign for a park in the Everglades got rolling, with Jr. focusing on the park’s functions and purposes rather than specific prohibitions, as many Florida Representatives wanted. In 1931, William P Wharton joined the fight for a national park in the Everglades.

Wharton was involved in the Massachusetts State Park System, National Association of Audubon Societies, and the American Forestry Association, a perfect match to join Olmsted Jr. in crafting the report for a proposed national park in the Everglades. Olmsted Jr. and Wharton would spend ten days walking extensively in the Everglades region, speaking with fisherman, guides, hunters, and trappers.

After their adventure, the two concluded the Everglades not only had all the qualities necessary for a national park but was also so different from any other in existence, having a “special force of novelty”. Olmsted Jr. and Wharton believed that coastal mangrove forests and “the abundance of many species of wild bird life not commonly found in other parts” made the Everglades highly desirable for a national park.

Despite not proposing any specific recommendations for park development, they firmly believed believing “that the primitive character of the region should be protected to the utmost.” Not only did they see the Everglades as providing recreational enjoyment, they also saw the importance it would serve as a study site for botanists, zoologists, and geologists.

During his time working on New York City parks, Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. clashed several times with Andrew Haskell Green, who often wouldn’t give in to Olmsted’s requests for more money. Despite this, Green does deserve credit for often introducing the bill to legislature in support of a park.

In 1866, that’s exactly what Green did, and in 1872, the original 191 acres was acquired as the first segment of what would become Riverside Park. That same year, Olmsted Sr. began preparing a conceptual plan for the new park and accompanying road. After 2 years of gathering information, Olmsted Sr. submitted his report, proposing a combined park and parkway adhering to the curves of the landscape.

In his report, Olmsted Sr. wrote that Riverside Park “presented great advantages as a park because the river bank had been for a century occupied as the lawns and ornamental gardens in front of the country seats along its banks. Its foliage was fine, and its views magnificent”.

Alongside that river Olmsted Sr. planned Riverside Drive, a treelined roadway winding through the rocky landscape. Though Olmsted Sr. would be out as the park superintendent a few years into construction, his vision lived on in those chosen to take on his work, Calvert Vaux and Samuel Parsons, both of whom had worked closely with Olmsted Sr.

Before there was Franklin Park Zoo, there was Franklin Park, and before that, just an idea. In 1869, after hearing about the success of other large urban parks, Bostonians requested that the city create a park system. Threatening a growing Boston was the lack of fresh air and increasing death rates, similar threats which had descended upon New York City before Frederick Law Olmsted arrived.

Of all the pieces in the Emerald Necklace, Franklin Park is the largest at 527 acres. Olmsted and his son John Charles began the plans for Franklin Park in 1885, though John stayed on supervising construction until 1896.

Franklin Park was divided into two sections, with nearly two thirds of the land’s acreage going towards the Country Park, a place for those to quietly enjoy the natural scenery. The second section, the Ante Park, was set aside for active recreation. The Ante Park itself was split into the Playstead, a play area for children, and the Greeting, which was once a promenade and is now part of Franklin Park Zoo.

The twenty-year construction process was classically Olmsted in two ways. The first was using existing topography, ledges, native stone, and vegetation to create a picturesque character for the park. The second was that, despite Olmsted meticulously choosing the plantings in the Country Park, those plantings were removed in favor of those that needed less maintenance.

While Olmsted didn’t necessarily believe in zoos, he did believe that animals could enhance landscapes in the proper setting. However, after his death the City of Boston hired a former member of the Olmsted firm, Arthur Shurcliff, to design Franklin Park Zoo. On October 3rd, 1912, 10,000 people crammed to see the new bear dens, the first official exhibit of the zoo.

By 1920 more than two million people had visited Franklin Park Zoo, but in 1970, Zoo officials found new homes for the bears and closed the bear dens for good. It was found to be too difficult a task to take down the bear proof cages, so they remain in the woods abandoned.

Peter White, an original settler of Marquette, understood the city was growing and believed it needed a park. In 1857, Michigan State Legislature was due to distribute lands granted to them by the United States, one of those pieces of land being a lighthouse reservation. White wanted that land so badly, he ran for a seat in the House of Representatives and won.

White only served one term, though he spent the rest of his life advocating for Marquette. For 29 years the land stayed reserved for light houses (2 still remain to this day), but as the Park Commissioner for Marquette, he personally lobbied Congress to give the land to his city in 1886, finally getting the park he had worked so hard for.

In 1891 Frederick Law Olmsted to make his way to Marquette. He was in the Midwest, working on the Chicago Worlds Fair, when he came to the tiny town surrounded by Michigan wilderness.

After doing some sightseeing, he was asked to draw up a management plan suggesting how the land could be turned into a proper park. Olmsted, always the environmentalist, wrote Marquette an impassioned letter on what to do with the land.

Olmsted’s letter was taken as gospel by Marquette, and Presque Isle maintained its midwestern wilderness for years to come.

Before the idea of a World’s Fair came to Chicago, State legislature first passed a bill calling for the creation of a system of parks and parkways spreading across the whole city of Chicago. The year is 1869, the Civil War has been over for four years, and Chicago’s South Park Commission has just been established to oversee the development of the city’s green spaces.

Immediately, Central Park’s great duo of Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux are contacted. Chicagoans were already familiar with the pairs work, since they had designed Riverside village. Olmsted always made sure his designs incorporated natural features of the site, and Jackson Park was no different. Water was meant to be the unifying feature of Chicago’s parks, and was a big reason why Olmsted chose Jackson Park as the site of the World’s Fair: the view of Lake Michigan.

When writing about where both the park and fair should be, Olmsted said “There is but one object of scenery near Chicago of special grandeur or sublimity, and that, the lake, can be made by artificial means no more grand or sublime. The lake, may, indeed, be accepted as fully compensating for the absence of sublime or picturesque elevations of land”

Olmsted was able to begin designing the inland portion of the park before The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 hit, which put all developments on hold as Chicago worked to rebuild itself. Construction on Jackson Park wouldn’t begin again until 1890, at which point Olmsted began splitting his time between Chicago, and the Biltmore in North Carolina.

Before Olmsted arrived in Chicago, the site of Jackson Park was a marshy, uninviting, wind-swept dune. However, out of this environment Olmsted was able create a series of basins and lagoons along the shore, protecting visitors and creating a more peaceful environment. Olmsted’s objective in the environment he created was to elicit the intense emotion that nature and beauty cause.

Though Frederick Law Olmsted surely didn’t loose it when he first saw Niagara Falls, he was shocked by the landscape, upon which were “mills and factories everywhere, hovels, fences and patent medicine signs”. The Industrial Revolution of the early 19th century had taken the natural beauty of Niagara Falls and abused it, with buildings going up along the river to harness its power.

Olmsted took his first trip to Niagara Falls in August 1869, while working on the Buffalo parks and parkway system. He was accompanied by William Dorsheimer, the district attorney for northern New York and the man who headed the Buffalo parkways commission as well as H.H. Richardson, a friend of Olmsted’s who was working on Dorsheimer’s estate. All three men were appalled with this marvelous view of nature being obscured.

In the late 1860s, a small band of early environmentalists who were concerned over the river’s decreasing flow, founded the Free Niagara movement. Intellectuals like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Charles Darwin joined Olmsted in the Free Niagara movement. The movement believed that the natural beauty of the land surrounding Niagara Falls should be protected from commercial exploitations and remain free to the public.

The breakthrough at Niagara Falls came in 1883 when Dorsheimer’s close friend, Grover Cleveland, became governor of New York, and signed a bill calling for the establishment of a state park at Niagara. The Niagara Appropriations Bill was signed into law in 1885, creating the Niagara Reservation. Park commissioners first began by clearing out structures that had blocked views along the upper rapids, limiting the number of factories in the areas downstream,

Olmsted and Vaux began the landscaping that gives the American side of Niagara Falls its distinct character— ambling walkways and idyllic glades for visitors to contemplate the beauty of nature. Though the view looking into Canada has changed over time, if you’re willing to work for it, you can find certain spots where you’d see the same view Olmsted first did.

Like many city dwellers in the 19th century, New Yorkers only chance for fresh air and pastures were graveyards. Thankfully the city had begun acquiring land, about 843 acres of it, removed from the built-up areas of New York, and in 1853, New York State Legislature approved the establishment of Central Park.

In 1857 the Central Park Commission was founded, and Olmsted was encouraged to apply for the position of superintendent of the park, which he was appointed to that same year. To address the rapidly expanding city, the Commission held a design competition for the park. Olmsted teamed up with Calvert Vaux, who he would rely on heavily to the sketch plan.

Of the 33 submissions being considered, Olmsted and Vaux’s Greensward plan won over the Commission for its notable combination of formal and natural settings, mixed with architectural details like bridges. The most revolutionary of their design elements was the transverse roads, allowing vehicular traffic and pedestrians to cut through the park simultaneously, without anything detracting from their park experience.

After the Greensward Plan was adopted, Olmsted was appointed Chief Architect of Central Park, which he served from 1858 to 1861, allowing him to supervise construction. Unfortunately, from the start, there was a lot of political infighting at Central Park, with Tammany Hall politicians wanting their voters and friends to get jobs at the park, instead of those qualified. There was also Andrew Green, leader of the Commission, whom Olmsted butted heads with over Green keeping the purse strings tight.

Central Park was Olmsted’s first great project as a landscape architect, though it certainly wouldn’t be his last, but with every new park or estate you see bits of Central Park in it, for it’s where Olmsted got many of his trademark designs. Besides inspiring Olmsted, Central Park would go on to influence the development of urban parks nationwide, as well as serve as the set for many films.

The Olmsted name has some serious weight in the city of Chicago; Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. planned numerous parks to compliment the World’s Columbian Exposition, which he worked on with Daniel Burnham. Though Olmsted Sr. would pass away, Burnham still had ideas for parks that would need the famous Olmsted touch.

Burnham had been working on a park, then known as Lake Park, since the mid-1890s. The city was in possession of the land, however after seeing the success of the South Park Commission at the World’s Columbian Exposition, the city transferred the land to them. After the transfer, the commission changed the name of the proposed park from Lake to Grant, honoring former president Ulysses S. Grant.

In 1903, the South Park Commission hired the Olmsted Brothers to assist Burnham. By 1907, the Olmsted Brothers had developed an entirely new plan, calling for a more formalized park structure based off French landscaping principles. This would include symmetrical spaces, along with well-defined paths and plantings.

There was a debate over what the centerpiece of Grant Park should be. Burnham had already been chosen as the architect for a new natural history museum, thanks to a $1 million donation from department store owner Marshall Field, and he felt the museum would be a perfect centerpiece. Though Field wanted the museum in the Sr. Olmsted’s Jackson Park, the younger Olmsted sons agreed with Burnham, and the Field Museum was forever placed in Grant Park.

Frederick Law Olmsted already had his tour of English parks when Calvert Vaux convinced him to rejoin the partnership and submit a plan for the development of Prospect Park. In the 1860’s Brooklyn was its own city, the third largest in the country, and was jealous of the success Central Park was having.

James S.T. Stranahan, a successful civic leader in Brooklyn led the effort in the creation of a park. Stranahan argued that Brooklyn “would become a favorite resort for all classes of our community, enabling thousands to enjoy pure air, with healthful exercise, at all seasons of the year.”

Stranahan received the first park design from Egbert L. Viele, the man who had proposed the first layout for Central Park before Olmsted and Vaux’s Greensward was chosen. Stranahan asked Vaux to sketch a layout for the park, who then reached out to Olmsted, finishing up his work with the United States Sanitary Commission.

Construction at Prospect Park began July 1st, 1866, with Stranahan serving as President of the Prospect Park Commission. Where in Central Park Olmsted and Vaux had to overcome the lands narrow shape and large reservoir at the center, in Prospect Park the two took full advantage of natural elements, such as old-growth forests.

As the years went by, Olmsted’s desire to keep statues out of Prospect Park was forgotten, and the park now boats dozens, including one of James S.T. Stranahan. In fact, of the many statues across our country of Abraham Lincoln, the first resided, and still does, in Prospect Park.

The Olmsted firm, then Olmsted Brothers after the death of Frederick Sr., were commissioned by the City of Seattle to prepare a comprehensive system of parks and boulevards. Leading the project was John Charles Olmsted, whose first recommendation was to purchase Bailey Peninsula, then outside city lines.

In his 1903 report, John Charles encouraged Seattle to acquire the land before the forest was cleared for logging or development. The city began purchasing and developing land according to Olmsted’s suggestions, and in 1911, Seattle finally purchased the Bailey Peninsula for $322,000.

As the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition neared, Seattle pushed hard to develop the parks and boulevards John Charles had previously recommended in 1903. Bailey Peninsula became Seward Park to honor former President Lincoln’s Secretary of State, William Seward, who was responsible for purchasing Alaska from Russia in 1867.

John Charles Olmsted wrote his preliminary plan for Seward Park in 1912, where he called for programmed spaces like a dancing pavilion, tennis and basketball courts, and a small boat harbor. The design is a perfect example of the Olmsted Brothers’ ecological approach to designing parks, with many woodland and shoreline trails.

Though the Olmsted plan was never fully implemented, John Charles’ 1912 plan influenced later development at the park, and one of Seattle’s oldest growing native forest, the same that John Charles marveled at, got to retain its habitat

Frederick Law Olmsted didn’t arrive at Yosemite for a vacation but was here to work; he took over as the general manager for the Mariposa gold-mining estate. Many thought he was crazy to leave behind his landscape architecture work, and his father made sure Frederick knew his displeasure over the move. However, at the time no one could have known that this move would set the stage for the creation of parks from the natural domain.

A year after his move to California, the state had secured a grant deeming Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Big Tree Grove inalienable parkland. A commission was formed to oversee the creation of the public preserve, with Olmsted serving as Superintendent and Chairman.

Another year would pass before Olmsted wrote his report on Yosemite Valley and Mariposa, stressing the uniqueness of the valley, not because of the towering cliffs, but because of the union of the entire landscape, and the experience of taking it all in, uninterrupted.

Olmsted wrote his report for Yosemite and Mariposa with a distinct eye for the times; the Civil War was over and he was expanding upon Lincoln’s vision for a broader, more inclusive interpretation of democracy as he wrote the foundation for our national park system.

Like father, like son, Olmsted Jr. would join in on his father’s fight 50 years later when asked to refine his father’s work and address the need for a new bureau to manage scattered parks and monuments. This would start a 6-year correspondence, culminating in Jr.’s writing of the Organic Act, which would help solidify the creation of the NPS, keeping great natural wonders in the hands of the people.

Intrusion at Mount Hood began in 1926, when a nearby development corporation applied for a permit to construct a cable railway from an Inn deep in the woods to the summit of Mount Hood.

After their first application was denied, a letter writing campaign began, stressing that the cable would provide access to the summit for a broader range of people; those who didn’t have the inclination or ability to reach the summit but deserved the opportunity regardless.

However, groups of climbers fought back, arguing that rewards like reaching a should be reserved for those willing and able to get there on their own. Unsure of how to handle the situation, then Secretary of Agriculture William Jardine brought together a team of objective experts to evaluate the situation, and on that team was Olmsted Jr.

In 1930, Olmsted stated that developments like the cableway would be "insistent visible reminders that in reaching the vicinity of timber line one had not escaped for a time beyond the sophisticated and man-dominated region of everyday life.”

The proposal for putting the cable railway in Mount Hood was rejected, and Jr. hoped this victory would serve as a precedent: sacrificing immediate popular ideas for what’s best for the entire area. Jr. and his team also advised against private summer homes around the lake, instead recommending camp houses available to the public.

Sr. led the way in advocating an appreciation of parks, going beyond the spectacular scenery they offer. Jr. continued that advocacy work, realizing Mount Hood would achieve far greater fame and value if it was able to keep development off its land.

In 1888, the Swampscott Land Trust purchased 130 acres of the Mudge Estate, the summer home of a wealthy Boston family. The Trust commissioned Frederick Law Olmsted to plan the North Shore’s first residential subdivisions.

Olmsted’s vision, like in many of his designs, was to encourage the full utilization of the area’s natural topography, which he did by creating curvilinear roads to go around the landscape. As always, he didn’t want decorative elements to take precedence, and made sure to harmonize the man-made structures with the picturesque landscape.

For New Englanders in the late 19th century, Swampscott, an esteemed seaside resort community, was the perfect place to spend summers. From all over New England peopled flocked to Swampscott for the town’s fresh ocean air, picturesque scenery, and warm hospitality.

In 1895, the Olmsted firm was contracted to begin improvements on King’s Beach. Despite the hundred plus years since work on the beach and residential neighborhood commenced, the area is exceptionally well preserved. So, the beach you see behind Jennifer Lawrence is exactly the way the Olmsted firm left it, with the addition of a few buildings.

Before being known as Fort Tryon, the area known as Mount Washington served as a battle site along the Hudson River during the Revolutionary War. British troops stationed there had named the site after William Tryon, the last British governor of colonial New York City. After the Americans won the war, they re-appropriated the name and referred to the area as Fort Tryon.

In 1917 John D. Rockefeller had purchased much of the land Fort Tryon sat on, with the vision to develop it into a park. Ten years later Rockefeller Jr. contacted Olmsted Brothers to develop that park, with Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. taking a particular interest in the project.

Jr. spent four years transforming Fort Tryon’s rocky soil and topography into a manicured landscape. He designed Fort Tryon Park with promenades, terraced, wooded slopes and eight miles of paths for pedestrians.

Rockefeller Jr. had his own visions for the park, believing it should provide striking views of the rock ridges in the distance. Olmsted Jr. agreed, for his design was careful to preserve open areas and included an abundance of colorful plants to compliment the expansive views of the Hudson River.

Over the years, restoration on Fort Tryon Park has constantly referred to the original Olmsted Brother’s design. Today, photos from the Olmsted Archives are used for restoration of the Alpine Garden at Fort Tryon Park.

When Walter Hubbard was preparing to donate 1,800 acres of land to Meriden, he knew he wanted to have a heavy say in the layout of the future park. Hubbard also knew the importance of bringing in a professional, so he enlisted Olmsted Brothers to help plan the park that would be his namesake.

Hubbard worked specifically with John Charles Olmsted, inviting him to visit the land and make recommendations on its design and layout. After visiting, Hubbard and Olmsted would exchange several letters between 1898 and 1899, and it’s clear that Hubbard seriously considered Olmsted’s recommendations, evidenced by the fact that letters describe in detail the present situation of the park.

In their correspondences, the two discussed numerous details like water flow, tree placement, ravines, and ridges, as well as the best areas to take in the views, and settle in for a picnic. Hubbard relied heavily on Olmsted to give the park its rustic style, the trademark of the park.

At times, Olmsted and Hubbard butt heads on the design of the park. While both propose a shelter at the east end of the park, Hubbard believes it should be made like a Greek temple, while Olmsted protested that it should be built roughly, with local stones. In the end, Olmsted prevailed in convincing Hubbard of the design.

Though Hubbard never worked with Olmsted Sr., he was certainly inspired by the creation of Central Park. When Hubbard gifted the land to Meriden, he specified that everything connected with the park was to remain free of charge. Unlike Olmsted, Hubbard had difficulty planning a park that would have permanent effects.

While Olmsted Brothers may have never prepared any plans for Hubbard Park, their suggestions for road and walkway designs live on.

Originally the site for several forts used for the Revolutionary War, after conflict had ended the citizens of the surrounding land began instinctually using the area that would become Fort Greene Park for open space, free to the public.

Twenty years after being designated as a parkland, Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux were engaged in 1867 to prepare a new design for the park, as well as a crypt for the remains of the 11,500 prison ship martyrs; brave men and women who died while imprisoned during the Battle of Long Island.

Olmsted and Vaux were likely hired to design the new park because of their growing involvement in creating the parks and open spaces of Brooklyn. Their design approach at Fort Greene called for a park of rural character, consisting of “a series of shady walks that will have an outlook of open grassy spaces at intervals”.

In addition to winding pathways and open lawns, there was a designated area for social gatherings, two playgrounds, an observatory, and room for a monument to the prison ship martyrs. While some of these design elements weren’t included at Central or Prospect Park, Olmsted and Vaux included them here, seeing them as appropriate to the site and neighborhood.

Though Olmsted and Vaux always intended for a formal monument to the prison ship martyrs, a lack of funding would interrupt its realization. After Olmsted and Vaux had both passed, the architectural firm of McKim, Mead, and White were brought in to complete it.

Today, the park retains much of Olmsted and Vaux’s original characteristics, with winding pathways, sloping lawns, and mature trees, including on 135-year old English elm.

During the Civil War, the area that would become Branch Brook Park was serving as an encampment for several regiments as they prepared to fight in some of the most important battles of the war, from Antietam to Appomattox.

In 1867 the war was over and New Jersey State legislature established the Newark Park Commission to locate grounds for a city park. The Commission would ask Frederick Law Olmsted Sr. to visit Newark and recommend the best possible site for park; he choose the Branch Brook area.

While Olmsted Sr, along with Calvert Vaux, would envision Branch Brook Park as the Central Park of Newark, it was Olmsted Brothers who would take over the project in 1898, and create a plan for the park.

Olmsted Brothers faced challenges immediately, for in the years since Olmsted Sr.’s original recommendation, another landscaping firm had taken over the design, opting for a more gardenesque style with numerous architectural elements, something Olmsted hated and taught his sons to as well.

Adapting to these changes, Olmsted Brothers cleverly designed a plan splitting Branch Brook Park into three divisions. The Southern division would incorporate the elaborate gardenesque elements brought in by the previous firm. The Middle division would serve as a transitional zone, mixing exotic plantings with those more natural to the area. The Northern division was the largest, and most naturalistic of the divisions.

Olmsted Brothers took some time off from Branch Brook Park but were called in again in 1927 to lay out the two thousand Japanese flowering cherry trees donated to site to rival the trees in Washington, D.C. Laying the trees out on tiered slopes along the river ensured that none would dominate the other, but flow together in harmony.

Planted on April 26, 2013, Fairsted's new elm is waiting for you to stop by and say "hi." Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic Site (Olmsted NHS) welcomed a new elm into the landscape, marking a significant day in our history, as the new elm replaced the recently removed Olmsted Elm.

From the early 19th century until 2011, a graceful, vase-shaped elm stood on this Brookline landscape. After the Olmsted family purchased the property in 1883, the tree became an essential component of the design of the South Lawn developed by Frederick Law Olmsted and his son John Charles Olmsted. It came to be known as the "Olmsted Elm."

Elm trees were very often key features in Olmsted’s designs. The connection to elms is deeply rooted in Olmsted’s own family history. The name Olmsted is loosely derived from Elmsted, meaning place of the elms. Also, the Olmsted family history includes stories about elm trees.

One day I was lying with my head between the roots of a lofty elm, looking up at its swaying boughs and leafage, when he came out of the house and hobbled toward me. It must have been a Sunday or holiday, for he was dressed in his best. His best, although he was in straitened circumstances was finer than anything we see now. Ruffles on his bosom and wrists; small clothes, stockings and silver buckled shoes; a long silver headed Malacca cane as a walking stick in his hands (I have it now), his gray hair in a queue with a bow of broad black ribband at the end. There was an old cocked hat in the garret with a quadrant, charts, bunting, and small matters of cabin furniture. He wore a hate of the then common fashion of real beaver fur. I rose as he approached and he asked, looking up, did I not think it a fine tree? Then he told me that he himself had planted this tree when a boy. Others near by he had helped to plant, but this one was all his own, and he described to me how he had dug it in the swamp and had brought it on his shoulder and been allowed to plant it all by himself. It came to me after a time as he went on talking about it that there had been nothing in all his long life of which he was so frankly proud and in which he took such complete pleasure as the planting and the beautiful growth of this tree.

The “Olmsted Elm” remained a beloved element in the landscape after the National Park Service (NPS) acquired the property from the Olmsted firm in 1980.