One of our founding myths is that of George Washington and the cherry tree. In his The Life of Washington, first published in 1800, minister and writer Mason Locke Weems, more commonly known as Parson Weems, wrote down for the citizens of this new nation the qualities they should require in a leader. The book was written not to reflect the facts of Washington’s life—biographies would not focus on facts for almost a century—but to show virtues the nation’s youth should imitate and to establish a set of attributes against which future voters could judge those vying to lead the nation.

Weems’s Washington was generous, reverent, studious, athletic, martial, hardworking, and beloved by his comrades. And, beginning with an 1806 edition of the book, he could not tell a lie. According to Weems, when George was about six years old “he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet, of which, like most little boys, he was immoderately fond, and was constantly going about chopping every thing that came in his way. One day, in the garden…he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet on the body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree…. The next morning the old gentleman finding out what had befallen his tree…, came into the House ; and with much warmth asked for the mischievous author…. Nobody could tell him anything about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. ‘George,’ said his father, ‘do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree yonder in the garden ?’

“This was a tough question ; and George staggered under it for a moment ; but quickly recovered himself : and looking at his father, with the sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely cried out, ‘I can’t tell a lie, Pa ; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.’

“‘Run to my arms, you dearest boy,’ cried his father in transports, ‘run to my arms ; glad am I, George, that you killed my tree ; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son is more worth than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest gold.’”

Like many of the other anecdotes Weems delivered, this story was almost certainly invented. But it established the importance of truth-telling in a leader.

At the end of August 2026, Rick Maese of the Washington Post reported that despite orders from U.S. District Judge Ana C. Reyes saying that she wanted advance notice before the government took down more than ten trees from the East Potomac Golf Links or brought equipment larger than a sedan onto the property, the Trump administration has taken down more than sixty trees in apparent preparation for President Donald Trump to redesign the golf course.

Opponents have sued to stop the redesign of the historic publicly owned course. President Donald Trump has said the makeover will begin on September 1, but Maese notes that the administration has released “no final design, construction schedule or estimated cost.” It has apparently not conducted either environmental or historical preservation reviews. It has not said how changes to the course will affect public access to the three courses and to the popular recreation path on the property.

Reyes said she would not stop administration officials from doing routine maintenance on the property, and the administration says the tree removal is routine maintenance. A spokesperson for the Interior Department said : “Arborists are doing routine maintenance at East Potomac Park with selective removal of hazard trees, non-native invasive trees, and declining and dying trees that cannot be brought back to good health through any degree of intervention.”

One of the trees they have cut down is a cherry tree.

It seems like the writers for the 250th season of American democracy are becoming increasingly desperate to get the country’s attention.