In relatively ancient times, when the land we now call Irondequoit, Brighton and Rochester was still Seneca hunting ground and trade routes, a man named Salmon Tryon decided to purchase a tract on speculation. It was on the south end of Irondequoit Bay and, he assumed, everyone would be using his new port for trade and travel. A “city” sprang up, but it didn’t last long. Now the only remnants of this “lost city of Tryon” are 2 houses on Landing Road, a park (well, parts of 2 parks), and some rubble. Oh, and a neighborhood tavern.

Although this land (stolen from the Seneca) became part of Brighton, the first quarter of the 20th century saw a hungry city of Rochester gobbling up whatever land it could in the name of expansion. Though there was much debate and controversy, the city repeatedly attempted to annex nearby chunks of Brighton and Irondequoit beginning in 1905 with the addition of Brighton Village. Immediately to the north of the village was an area called the Holland Settlement, bounded by Culver Road, University (Browncroft), Merchants and ending a bit east of North Street (Winton Road). The area, unsurprisingly, was named for the Dutch population that resided there. A 1910 excerpt from the Rochester Post-Express described it this way:

This is a strictly residence district, differing from nearly all of the other suburban settlements in being devoid of manufacturing interests. Holland Settlement, too, is one of the oldest suburbs of the city, but since the extension of the Main Street east trolley line to the Blossom Road, the introduction of a water supply by the Rochester and Lake Ontario Water Company and the installation of electric lights, gas and other conveniences the district has greatly increased in population.

http://www.libraryweb.org/~digitized/books/Rochesters_era_of_annexations_1901-1926.pdf

The story of Tryon Park began as Palmer’s Glen, a picturesque landscape surrounding Thomas Creek. James Palmer, manufacturer of fireworks (among other things) purchased the land in 1878 and, rather generously according to today’s litigious standards, opened it to the public. There were two big problems with Palmer’s Glen: one, it was somewhat inaccessible, considering the increasing volume of traffic coming in and out of the area; two, at some point around the turn of the century Thomas Creek became an open sewer for the town of Brighton (running through the current site of the Main & Merchants Plaza). One of the loudest rallying cries for annexation came from Brighton residents who wanted Rochester’s improved sewers to be installed. After the area was annexed, real sewer lines were installed and access roads were built.

The allure of city sewers, schools and police eventually swayed popular opinion just barely enough to approve a city takeover. Developers hungrily snatched up subdivisions left and right, and began building houses to meet the needs of the rapidly growing population. Neighborhoods like Elmcroft and Browncroft sprang up and well-to-do families snatched up property left and right. Familiar place names that had duplicates within the city were changed. Arbutus Avenue (in Irondequoit) and North Ave (in Brighton) were combined and renamed Winton Road North. And local neighborhoods like Holland Settlement faded into history.

As I rode through the area, I got a feel for the original idealism of these “urban suburbs”. Lots of foursquares, Dutch Colonials, Cape Cods, beautifully manicured lawns and wide lots let you know that this area was solidly middle-class. It may be the city, but it still feels like Brighton or Irondequoit in many ways. There are even echoes of the early Netherlands influence in the front-yard gardens. This was an area of change, now it’s an area of stability. Oh, but how I wish I could’ve seen it 100 or 200 years ago; this, the convergence of trade routes, the city that almost was, the cultural hub. How I wish I could picnic in Palmer’s Glen, watching the fireworks overhead til after dark, to be guided back home by the glow of a lantern.