Glynn County plans to replace the traffic light at Sea Island and Frederica roads with a roundabout to ease congestion caused by nearly 20,000 vehicles a day — luxury cars headed to the Sea Island resort causeway, minivans driven by moms in need of milk from the grocery store across the street and convoys of dump trucks, construction equipment haulers and contractor vehicles on route to build sites on St. Simons’ relatively wild north end.

The threat to the live oaks — and the county government’s pledge to use eminent domain to take them if necessary — has turned a traffic project into an island-splitting standoff. And Nos. 350 and 355 into symbols of conservation seemingly more powerful than the bulldozers and backhoes that pass through the intersection.

“Cutting those trees is like putting another notch in your belt to cure obesity,” said Jim Barger Jr., a lifelong island resident and a trial attorney who lives north of the intersection along a corridor ripe for development. “It won’t fix the traffic, and at the same time the county would be cutting down some of the island’s most treasured resources.”

Live oaks dating back as far as 250 years stand at Old Stables Corner, the former site of a horse stables operated by the Sea Island resort. A traffic circle planned nearby threatens several of the 17 live oaks on the 2.3-acre property. (Adam Van Brimmer/AJC)

 

What makes these trees so special?

The live oaks of Old Stables Corner aren’t just old trees with names. They have survived varying phases of development over their lifetimes. No. 355 was just a sapling when many of the island’s maritime forests were cleared for cotton, rice and indigo plantations beginning in the 1700s. The eldest oak was left alone when its taller and thicker brothers were cut to build warships, including the USS Constitution, during the nascent days of the United States.

In more recent times, these live oaks weren’t felled when the Sea Island Co. built horse stables under their shady limbs for its nearby luxury resort and gated community in the early 20th century. And 15 years ago, four years after the stables had moved to another location, the trees got a stay of execution when a group bought the property to block plans to replace the trees with gas pumps for a planned filling station.

The 2010 date with the chain saw made Old Stables Corner a St. Simons waypoint as familiar to locals as Southern Soul BBQ and the Pier Village casino. A community nonprofit, the St. Simons Land Trust, raised $2.67 million in a matter of weeks to buy the 2.3-acre site and turn it into land “protected forever,” as signs on the property now read.

The high-profile acquisition cemented the community’s embrace of the then-decade-old Land Trust. Today, the organization claims more than 2,000 members and a staff of eight, including four full-time employees. Their annual oyster roast is the island’s social event of the year. According to 2023 tax records, the Trust’s assets are near $70 million and annual revenue exceeds $8 million.

“If you care about St. Simons Island, you are part of the Land Trust,” said Emily Ellison, the group’s executive director. “The island is a dynamic place, and this community comes together and uses the Land Trust as a vehicle to protect it.”

The Trust now owns 14% of St. Simons, with aspirations to one day control 20%, according to Barger, the organization’s chairman. Their 1,400 acres include sprawling nature preserves but also small, less commercially attractive properties near busy thoroughfares — such as Old Stables Corner.

Many St. Simons Island children learned to ride horses at the Sea Island Co. stables, located for 60 years at the corner of Sea Island and Frederica roads, a property now known as Old Stables Corner. (Courtesy of St. Simons Land Trust)

 

The affinity for Old Stables Corner is particularly strong. For much of the 20th century, the live oaks shaded horse stables owned by the Sea Island Co. The stables were open to the public and were a favorite of children, both locals and visitors.

Miriam Lancaster’s daughter, Caitlin, had her first horse-riding experience during a visit to see family at St. Simons decades ago, a moment so special mom still remembers the mare’s name: Sassy. The horse spooked during the ride and started galloping only to be reined to a halt by an unshaken Caitlin. “There’s many stories like this — generations of locals and visitors who had their first ride at the old stables,” Lancaster said.

Many islanders wax nostalgic about the stables, with its horses and other barnyard animals, such as chickens and goats. They laugh in recalling what happened when the Harris Teeter grocery store opened across the street. The shop was the first on the island with motion-sensor entry doors, and the initial store layout put the produce section in the front.

The stable goats quickly discovered the supermarket provided easy access to leafy green snacks.

“It didn’t take long for the manager to move the fruits and vegetables away from the doors,” Barger said.