Coming home to the sequoias

I finally saw a sequoia tree. A lot actually.

That alone doesn’t sound like an amazing feat, but if you know me, then you know what it means. Much of you don’t, so let me elaborate so you are caught up to speed. 

In the summer of 2017, my time was spent going to workouts in the morning with the team and then getting another workout in with my friend and teammate Tre, in anticipation of the upcoming season. Tre and I were in very similar spots. It was our senior year. Our last season of college football and possibly our last season of playing football. The previous season, we both had transferred to UAB from junior colleges and we both saw sparse playing time. We both played the same position of jack, or outside linebacker. We both were frustrated with the outcome of last season and wanted something better, not only for ourselves but for the team. So with this last hurrah, I stopped caring about expectations or trying to impress someone and just played, and so did Tre. I can’t remember how it started, but before summer workouts even began in June, we were working in May. I’m sure the conversation went something like this.

“Yer. Mell let’s go get some work in.”

“Ight. Come scoop me.”

“Bet.”

And every day that summer, we worked out, whether it was doing some field work, hitting the sand pits, getting some miles in at Railroad park, going to the rec center for a another lift, going to the facility on late nights for some active recovery, or rolling out while we watched film, quizzing each other. When team summer workouts started back up, we continued our own program in addition to the teams, training two and three times a day, for six days a week. We pushed each other. On the days I didn’t feel like working out he would call me, and when he didn’t feel like working out, I would call him. By the time fall camp rolled around, we were ahead and it showed that season.

 When me and Tre both got to UAB in 2016, we were both a bit standoff-ish to each other ironically. Tre showed up on the first day of fall camp, me thinking he was the Tennessee transfer that all of the coaches had been talking up. It wasn’t until the third game of the season when he knocked on my hotel room door the day before the game to hangout with my roommate Zac and I asked him about the difference between Tennessee and UAB.

“What? I’m from Texas.”

“You didn’t go to Tennessee? SEC Tennessee?”

“Nigga I thought you were from Tennessee!”

After that, we all laughed it off and Tre and I were cool. Cooler than cool, but that summer in 2017 things changed.

Fall Camp for any kid in college football is a battle of attrition. From being up at five in the morning to leaving the facility at ten. Waking up not knowing how your ring finger got jammed, why your whole body aches, or how you’ll wake up and do it all over again the next day. This is the time that tests you before the season. These were the dog days. During this time, our late afternoon/nightly team meetings were often filled with speakers to come educate or motivate the team, giving us some tools on our journey for the upcoming season and in life, or just putting a battery in your back to keep pushing a little bit harder. One of these grueling nights we had a speaker in to address the whole team and this was the first time I had learned about sequoia trees beyond knowing they were big. 

“Can I get everyone in here to say ‘Sequoia’ for me when I say ‘Sequoia’. ‘Sequoia!’”

“Sequoia”, the whole team chanted back at him in unison.

“I like that.” He took a quick beat. “Sequoias are some of the oldest trees on the planet. . . ”

While most of us were fighting sleep or too banged up to focus on his speech, I think it was safe to say that majority of the people in that room (mostly people from the south) had never heard of a sequoia tree, let alone seen one. I hadn’t until a couple days ago, and all I could think about was this speaker that I’m sure almost everyone in that room had forgotten about. 

An impromptu trip led to a three hour drive from LA to the Sequoia and Kings Canyon national park located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in Tulare county, CA. Upon entering the park, it’s still a 45 minute push until you are in the forest of the giants, climbing narrow winding roads, scraping and driving through the clouds themselves. As you make the ascent, it’s hard to imagine that you are still in the same state, as the palm trees slowly turn to evergreen coniferous towers.

It’s hard to get across the sheer size of these ancient relics with words alone. As you approach, you can see the dense deep amber trunks reaching through the treeline, but when you finally step out of your car and are snapping twigs and foliage between dusty Merrell’s in the still forest, there aren’t many words left. Only eyes widening, mouths ajar, followed with gasps and pangs of astonishment. 

No organism lives for thousands of years without picking up a few tricks along the way. These evergreens have a unique blend of traits that have allowed them to stand the test of time. Their thick and dense bark filled with many air pockets that insulate the wood makes these trees fire resistant, allowing them to withstand the extreme heat from wildfires, but to the touch, the fibrous bark is surprisingly soft and moss-like. Many of the trees in Sequoia National Park tell their own stories, with deep burn scars running along their face or even carving out entire trees, leaving it hollow with charred wood lining its trunk. Along with standing up to fires, sequoias are also extremely resistant to disease, rot, and insects because of the chemical tannins, which is found in sequoias. All of these traits are necessary in order for survival, but one other trait I learned before I finally saw my first sequoia. I learned this while sitting in the team meeting room during fall camp.

With their stature, one would assume that sequoia trees have deep roots that stretch and span the entire forest. They don’t. The sequoia’s roots only go down about 6-12 feet deep into the ground, which isn’t far considering how tall they can get to, with no tap root to anchor them down. Even big General Sherman, the world’s largest sequoia (based on volume of the trunk) is no different from his family, measuring in at 275 feet tall. What sequoias do have is a key part of their survival. Despite not being deep, the sequoia’s roots stretch just enough to reach other sequoias, intertwining their roots together. Through this type of growth, the trees are able to support and hold each other up during extreme conditions such as storms, winds, fires, etc. Through their intertwined roots, they can even send nutrients to a certain tree that may not be getting enough, or if a tree dies, its roots can still feed the other sequoias around it. This was the message of the speaker that afternoon in fall camp

“Lock arms with your brothers! Stand tall together and you can face any adversity that comes your way! When you see your fellow sequoia on the ground, you stick out your hand and lift him up. Let him know, ‘I got you. Sequoia’. Amen.”

As he finished up his passionate speech, he was met with a respectful applause and we all continued to meetings. I don’t think anyone thought much of it. If anything, guys on the team would say it ironically to each other, like when you’re at practice you would hand the gatorade to a teammate first instead of drinking yourself. You let him know, “Sequoia brother.” You get a laugh, then he hands you back the bottle and returns the message.

So when I initially saw these beautiful relics of nature in the flesh, I couldn’t help but think about this corny joke with that team. As the day came to a close and the sun began to set with its rays cutting through the trees, I thought about Tre. I thought about that summer we spent working our asses off just to prove to everyone that we belonged on the field. I thought about Fitz, who let a complete stranger (me) that just signed to the team from Las Vegas stay with him in his apartment during summer workouts before I signed my scholarship. I thought about Zac, when we would talk about the game, kick it in the hotel room, and talk about how we had to be related somehow since we were both Williams. I thought about running on the field after we beat Middle Tennessee in their house for the conference championship after we just lost to them the week before during Thanksgiving. I thought about LUUUUKKE and us lifting together everyday and the voicemail message he left me when I got signed to San Fran. I thought about Big Bent, C4, D.A. , G-money, Woolbright, Stacy, KB, Q, Duke, Brontae, Diggs, Boogie, Rush, Lulu, Ubosi, Spencer, D’von, the Johnstons, Moll, Starling, and way too many other people to name but I’m just leaving out for the sake of wanting to finish this essay. It made me think about those people around me and that moment we got to share together. So when I saw the sequoias, it felt like seeing family. 

If you are reading this and you were also sitting in that same meeting during fall camp, I hope life has been kind to you. I hope you are doing well and that you are still pushing and grinding for things you want. I hope that you are healthy and that your families are doing well. I hope that your mental is good and if it isn’t just know that you’re not alone. And not like in a corny way either, you got people to lean on seriously. Hopefully our paths will cross and we’ll get to chop it again soon, but until then, I’ll see ya when I see ya. 


“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. Sequoia.”

Tre after we won against Southern Miss, declaring UAB division champs

One response to “Coming home to the sequoias”

  1. Absolutely loved this. Very well written I could feel everything you went through. Don’t know why but I could hear and envision the, “LUKEEE” at the gym. Great work and a good message.