Open a map of Rochester and you’ll spot certain names over and over. Strong. Eastman. Sibley. Who were these people,
and what are their names doing all over downtown?
They’re entrepreneurs and philanthropists, kooks and pioneers. Maybe not
nationally lionized like Susan B. Anthony, but still local heroes. Need an
introduction? Allow us.
Col. Nathaniel Rochester
In 1803, Col. Nathaniel Rochester and two business partners purchased 100
acres along the Genesee River’s Upper Falls. Rochester, a Southern businessman,
liked to dabble in land speculation, and he thought the land seemed perfect for
a future port town. Naming the area Rochesterville,
Rochester started surveying and plotting out his tract in 1811 – good timing,
as the area soon saw an influx of settlers during the War of 1812.
Rochester moved his family to the area in 1812, where he quickly became
active in local politics and business. In 1817, he helped convince the state
government to direct the new Erie Canal through Rochesterville
(renamed to Rochester that year); the Canal’s presence drove the town’s flour
industry, turning Rochester into America’s first true boomtown. He also helped
create Monroe County, serving as its first county clerk and first
representative for the State Assembly. He even acted as the first president of
the Athenaeum (later part of the Rochester Institute of Technology).
Rochester remained active in the city’s civic affairs until his death in
1831. His grave, sitting on a hill in Mt. Hope Cemetery, overlooks downtown; a
Latin inscription on it reads, “If you would seek his monument, look about
you.”
George Eastman
Eastman’s name can be found on the Eastman Theater at Gibbs and E. Main, the
University of Rochester’s Eastman School of Music and Dental Center,
Durand-Eastman Park off Lake Ontario, the George Eastman House International
Museum of Photography and Film, Eastman-Kodak…the list goes on.
If Colonel Rochester gave the city its name, George Eastman gave it an
identity as the Image Capital of the World. The founder of Kodak and inventor
of motion-picture film is still one of Rochester’s most beloved figures, remembered
for his innovation, business sense and philanthropy – and for making
photography mainstream.
In the 1870s, cameras were clunky and expensive, and relied on awkward glass
plates for exposures. But in 1884, Eastman – a high-school dropout and owner of
a small photography shop – invented the roll of film. The innovation eliminated
the need for plates, thus allowing for smaller, easier-to-use cameras.
Renaming his business Eastman-Kodak, Eastman soon began selling the
plate-less Kodak Camera in 1888. (Why Kodak? Because
Eastman liked the sound of it; “Kodak” is a made-up word.) With its
slogan “You press the button, we do the rest,” the Kodak Camera was
an international hit.
But Eastman’s greatest success was the Brownie Camera. Originally selling in
1900 for just $1, the Brownie opened the world of photography to the masses –
and made Eastman one of the richest men in the country.
Eastman was no miser. The active philanthropist donated more than $100
million to several educational, medical, and art institutions, many of which
still bear his name today. He was also an avid hunter and art collector.
Eastman ended his life in 1932, after being diagnosed with an incurable
spinal disease. But his influence on the city continues; even with all its
recent layoffs, Kodak is still one of the largest employers in Rochester.
The Strong Family
The Strong Memorial Hospital, Strong Auditorium, and Strong National Museum
of Play all take their names from this notable local family. Lifelong
entrepreneur Col. Henry Strong first got rich off manufacturing buggy whips; he
and his partner E.F. Woodbury operated the nation’s largest buggy whip factory
here in town. But he cemented that prosperity with a savvy investment in a
little start-up, Eastman-Kodak. An old family friend of Eastman’s,
Strong invested heavily in Kodak and even served as the company’s first
president. In return, Kodak made him filthy rich.
Strong also acted as president for the U.S. Voting Machine Company and the
Rochester Button Company. A philanthropist, he donated funds to help build a
Rochester YMCA and the Strong Memorial Hospital.
Strong’s daughter-in-law, Margaret Woodbury Strong, is best remembered for
her magpie-like tendencies. Margaret was an obsessive hoarder of all things
kitsch; over her lifetime, she collected thousands of pieces of Victoriana,
including dolls, dollhouses, bookplates, toys, miniatures
– even bathtubs. At one point, she owned more than 22,000 Victorian-era dolls.
When Margaret died, her family’s Kodak stock – then worth $80 million – paid
for the Strong Museum, dedicated to displaying her collectibles. Starting in
the mid-90’s, the museum adopted a more kid-friendly appeal; in fact, it’s now
known as the Strong National Museum of Play.
Hiram Sibley
Inspiration for the Hiram Sibley Building – not to be confused with the
Sibley Building, which housed the now-defunct department store Sibley’s until
1989; and the University of Rochester’s Sibley Hall Library and Music Library. Sibleyville, now part of Mendon, was also named in his
honor.
Had Eastman not come along, Hiram Sibley would probably still be the most
famous businessman in Rochester history. As the founder of the Western Union
Telegraph Company, Sibley was the richest Rochesterian
ever (again, until George).
Sibley also orchestrated the purchase of Alaska, as part of an elaborate
plan to expand Western Union’s telegraph service to Europe. He convinced the
cash-strapped Russian czar to sell the territory to the United States, getting
his good friend, Sec. of State William Seward, to foot the costs. However, the
purchase (later known as “Seward’s Folly”) came too late for Sibley;
before Western Union could finish laying its telegraph lines, the Atlantic
Cable was up and running.
An historical footnote: In 1913, Sibley’s only daughter, Emily Watson,
founded the Memorial Art Gallery in honor of her son, an architect who died in
his 20s.
Daniel W. Powers
As Rochester’s most successful private banker of the mid-19th century,
Daniel Powers had money and ego to spare. Both are embodied in the eccentric,
schizophrenic Powers Building at Four Corners.
Powers first broke ground for his office complex in 1865, on the site of the
cabin of the first Rochester settler, Hamlet Scrantom.
The building, touted as “fire-proof,” housed Powers’ bank, soon
attracting other businesses and tenants.
From the get go, Powers obsessed over making his building the tallest and
most impressive on the block. Whenever a neighbor constructed a building taller
than his, he immediately added on to his own creation to cover the difference.
In 1868, Powers expanded the building and added a sloping, McDonalds-esque roof, called a mansard roof. He added a two-story
tower in 1872. In 1881, he built a second mansard roof, followed by another in
1888-89 and a five-story tower in 1890. By the time Powers died, his office
building looked like something out of “Ghostbusters.”
Due to its prime location, the Powers Building continues to be a hub for
businesses (and tourists). It also offers a few historical footnotes: the Powers
Building was the first in Upstate New York to include a passenger elevator, gas
illumination, electricity – even marble floors.
Abelard Reynolds
One of Rochesterville’s first settlers, Abelard
Reynolds was a saddle-maker, a tavern owner, even the town’s first postmaster.
But he made a lasting name for himself in 1828, when he built the Reynolds
Arcade, Rochester’s first major commercial building.
At the time, skeptics doubted the wisdom of constructing a four-story office
building in a town with 8,000 people. But the Reynolds Arcade would play a
crucial part in more than 100 years of Rochester history.
Western Union and Bausch & Lomb had their flagship offices in the
Arcade. Statesman Daniel Webster gave fiery speeches from its balcony. It was
in the Arcade that George Selden first devised his automobile engine and Thomas
Edison fine-tuned his quadruplex telegraphic system.
Even Jack the Ripper may have worked here; Dr. Francis Tumblety,
a suspect for the serial killer’s real identity, operated a medical business in
the Arcade’s rear.
In 1932, the city razed the original Reynolds Arcade as a fire hazard. But
in its place was built a 10-story art deco office building, also named Reynolds
Arcade in the former building’s honor. It still stands there today.
This article appears in Mar 12-18, 2008.
