This post was adapted to focus on Cobbs Hill Park from a larger story titled "Twelfth Night Bonfires" written by Geoffrey Zeiner and posted to his blog, Gonechester in January, 2025.
Starting in the early 1930s, there was a revival in the celebration of Twelfth Night–or the twelfth day after Christmas–on January 6th by building a massive bonfire of old Christmas trees, wreaths, and laurels. An old custom, its renewal was inspired by local artist George M. Haushalter, who was pained by the ignominious end of the “tannenbaum” thrown aside at the end of Christmas. He suggested the great pyre was a more appreciative end for the festive greenery.
Smaller, neighborhood Twelfth Night pyres took place throughout the city; one repeated site was a vacant lot at the corner of East Avenue and Portsmouth Terrace. The lot was formerly No. 814 East Avenue, home of Rodney S. Hatch, which was torn down in 1940.
At last, in 1953, Rochester again had a conflagration of Christmas greenery at Cobbs Hill; the sleeping tradition was awoken once again, to strongly continue for the next twenty years.
1958 would be the last time the tree burning was held at Cobbs Hill; construction nearby the usual site required it to be moved. The bonfire would instead be held at Charlotte, near the Port Terminal, where a smaller Twelfth Night pyre previously had been held.
The above article misnames “Booth Street” as “Boot Street”. Booth Street itself is no longer extant, replaced by parking and driveways for an industrial park on the southwest corner of Emerson and Colfax Streets.
The Emerson Street Landfill was a disposal site for incinerator ash, and waste from construction and demolition. As landfill site, the place was somewhat unsuited to gatherings of people; there were concerns about rats and strange fumes. But inertia prevailed, and burnings were held there annually during the 1960s.
In the early 1970s, increasing attention was being paid to air pollution, with pressure groups forming to advance clean-air initiatives in city government. This would serve as the death knell for garbage incineration. Along with it went the burning of thousands of Christmas trees. In its stead, a mulching program was introduced, with chips being used for civic parks and offered to citizens for private gardens.
Though the move was a logical one when viewed from certain perspectives, it also resulted in the loss of yet another public spectacle. The social fabric and civil spirit of Rochester took a hit, during a time it was already getting its proverbial teeth kicked in.
Decades later, people would stumble upon references to these great bonfires and react with surprise and wonder–people such as M. W. of Brighton, who wrote to the D&C asking about a photo they happened upon in a Time-Life book, The Pageantry of Christmas.
It’s been over fifty years since the crackle and roar of thousands of flaming Christmas trees filled the air, entertaining the denizens of Rochester with spectacle and scent. Those children who beheld the mighty pyre with wondering, firelit eyes have long since grown into adulthood, the glimmer of flames in a crisp January night but a memory.
