Ghosts of Rochester’s trolley Golden Age lurk in overgrown places below power lines and bike paths, crooning sad songs of summer flings and what-ifs. They’re shy, but if you know where to look, they’ll indulge your curiosities.
However, there is one ghost that evades all recognition. The white whale. The magnificent tree in the forest crashing to earth with no one around to hear. This is the story of Dreamland, the amusement park and festival ground on the Southern shore of Irondequoit Bay, enjoyed by thousands and remembered by none, buried in an unmarked grave.
Residents today are familiar with this area as the quiet home of Irondequoit Bay Fish and Game Club, Sutter’s Marina or mountain biking mecca Bay Park West. But entering the 1900s, this area was a powder keg, charged with the economic potential of recreation and society’s new position to indulge therein.
Late Irondequoit town historian Maude I. West recounts the period when summer resorts flourished along the bay in her book, “Irondequoit Story.” Glen Haven stood out among the rest as a first-class resort, prompting the lifeline that would spur its explosive growth.
By 1905, the Rochester Railway Company, owner of the Glen Haven trolley line, needed to give people a reason to purchase their fares. With competition from nearby Seabreeze and Ontario Beach Park each boasting their own docket of thrills, the Victorian charm of the existing Glen Haven Hotel no longer enticed patrons.
As shorter work weeks, growing wealth and flourishing public transit systems around the country forged a new economy in the business of pleasure, Rochester found itself at the apex of this tide. A local newspaper dubbed Rochester “a paradise for poor people,” possessing “a greater number of inviting, convenient, and accessible ‘outing spots’ than any city in the country.”
Massive investments were made to transform the mere six-acre Glen Haven Park into a premier destination for visitors to indulge their desires and empty their pocketbooks. A revolving door of amusements filled Dreamland, as third-party operators were happy to oblige patrons’ appetites for the latest and greatest thrills.
A rollercoaster, ferris wheel, merry-go-round, shooting gallery, midway and theater sparkling with 3,000 incandescent bulbs drew daily crowds by the tens of thousands; as did attractions whose names still entice the modern thrill-seeker — Katzenjammer Castle, House of Trouble, Cleopatra, Temple of Mirth, Cave of Winds, Helter Skelter and Mystic Chute.
Efforts paid off. The 1907 summer season entertained a purported 500,000 visitors. According to timetables meticulously measured in Charles R. Lowe’s book “Trolleys to Glen Haven,” 157 trolleys left the Glen Haven Depot on East Main Street (now home to RTS headquarters) daily and, at peak times, homes along the tracks could hear the rumble of a passing train every six-and-a-half minutes. (Trolleys heading for Sodus Point also used this track, which adds to its substantial frequency.)
For a decade, newspapers reported banner year after banner year for the operators at Glen Haven Park. But soon, a new tide would pull people away just as swiftly as it had first brought them in. Since 1889, Rochester’s trolleys had expanded horizons for residents to visit other places previously too far, too costly or simply yet undiscovered. This golden age lasted into the 1930s, until the horizons offered from behind one’s own steering wheel were too seductive to compete with those from a fixed rail.
“I like to compare it to smartphones,” said Lowe, standing on the former railbed that carried trains from Rochester to Sodus in roughly two hours. “Back when they were coming out, we all couldn’t wait to have a computer in our pocket.”
By 1923, Glen Haven Park was under the same ownership as Seabreeze and Ontario Beach Park, and operators likely saw the writing on the wall. Rides were quietly removed, trolley service cut back and nature was free to reclaim its territory for the first time in nearly half a century — eventually consuming it whole and erasing it from memory.
The last Glen Haven trolley left the station on July 19, 1933.
Further exploration:
“Trolleys to Glen Haven” by Charles R. Lowe (Purple Mountain Press, 2000)
“Irondequoit Story” by Maude I. West (The Town Of Irondequoit, 1967)
Rochester Public Library Local History & Genealogy, roccitylibrary.org
New York Museum of Transportation, nymtmuseum.org
Katie Epner is a producer at WXXI and contributor to CITY. She can be reached at kepner@wxxi.org.
This article appears in Oct 1-31, 2024.
