the institutions exchanged plant material, sup- 
porting research at both sites. As time passed, 
the products of these efforts matured into beau- 
tiful collections. In Rochester, the public has 
come to expect these large, well-maintained 
trees throughout our arboretum and park sys- 
tem. Still, as a community of tree lovers, we 
often take for granted the tremendous asset left 
by our predecessors—until crisis strikes. 
The ice storm of 1991 was one of these 
events. Having saved the orchids, staff turned 
their attention to assessing the damage to the 
arboretum. It seemed that almost everything in 
the collection was either damaged or destroyed. 
At first, opening roads and paths so people 
could get around was the priority. This effort 
to restore access took days. As the work pro- 
gressed, we started to look at individual speci- 
mens and, to our dismay, found many of our 
most celebrated trees were no more. 
One public favorite, a katsura tree (Cercidi- 
phyllum japonicum), looked like the last few 
feet of every branch was broken and hanging. 
The tree had been received in 1919 from the 
nursery of Leon Chenault, in Orleans, France. 
Once the forestry team addressed safety issues 
elsewhere in the landscape, they turned to the 
katsura, spending days expertly trimming off 
every broken limb. Today, three decades later, 
no evidence of the trauma remains. The katsura 
has returned bigger and better than ever. 
The saddest loss for me was a Persian iron- 
wood (Parrotia persica), which had been 
received from Veitch Nursery, in England, in 
1892. The specimen—perhaps my favorite 
tree in the park—was fascinating, forming an 
impenetrable maze of eight- to sixteen-inch 
trunks with gray-green mottled bark. It had 
been completely uprooted and was lying on the 
ground. I remember cutting up the branches and 
wondering if another specimen as impressive as 
this one existed anywhere. Yet, sometimes hav- 
ing too much to do can play in our favor: with 
thousands of trees down and in need of work, 
our team deferred grinding stumps until later. 
That spring, dozens of new shoots sprouted 
from the overturned Parrotia stump. Over time, 
our team thinned the shoots, allowing space for 
some to grow. Now thirty years have passed, 
Highland Park 15 
and the plant is once again a tangle of trunks— 
again one of my favorites. 
While so many trees were damaged and lost, 
others weathered the storm with remarkable 
ease. Walking through the park, you come to an 
impressive pair of zelkovas (Zelkova serrata), 
found in the valley behind the historic Lamber- 
ton Conservatory. One of the trees was received 
in 1899 from Thomas Meehan & Sons, in Ger- 
mantown, Pennsylvania, and the other arrived 
in 1919 from the Arnold Arboretum. These 
trees stood strong against the ice. Likewise, at 
the corner of Highland Avenue and Goodman 
Street, a dawn redwood (Metasequoia glypto- 
stroboides) did the same. The tree was grown 
from seed distributed by the Arnold Arboretum 
in 1948, when this newly identified species was 
first introduced to North America. The dawn 
redwood flexed under the weight of the ice but 
bounced back with little damage. 
Despite the losses to the ice storm, Highland 
Park recovered. Every morning, I drive through 
the pinetum, which includes hundreds of vari- 
eties of mature evergreens—an uncommon 
and, I think, underappreciated asset for a city 
park. The pinetum is particularly impressive 
in the winter with snow on the trees, giving the 
impression of being in an evergreen forest far 
north of Rochester. 
As I pull into my parking spot, I glance to a 
nearby hill where I see two magnificent fern- 
leaf beech trees (Fagus sylvatica ‘Asplenifolia’) 
standing amongst a grouping of beech trees of 
other varieties. These two were donated from 
Ellwanger and Barry’s Mount Hope Nursery in 
1892. Looking to the left, I can see an Ameri- 
can chestnut (Castanea dentata), about thirty 
feet tall and starting to succumb to blight, a 
remnant of a former crisis. Each of the trees 
stands as a living history—a testament not only 
to their own resilience but to the commitment 
of the generations of horticulturists who have 
built and stewarded the plant collections in 
Flower City. 
Mark Quinn is the superintendent of horticulture for 
Monroe County Parks, in Rochester, New York. He 
oversees the cultivation and care of the botanical 
collection at Highland Park and all the parks throughout 
the County Parks System. 
Facing page: The author stands with one of the celebrated trees at Highland Park—a katsura tree (Cercidiphyllum 
japonicum) received in 1919. 
PHOTO COURTESY THE AUTHOR 
