Brighton Cemetery struggles to stay alive

Another story of mine. This deals with the struggle faced by a historic cemetery to stay afloat.

By Matt Ried

It's tucked away at the end of a dead end street, no longer in the town of Brighton, but the Brighton Cemetery holds one of the biggest keys to Brighton's past.

Most of Brighton's early settlers are buried here, 19th Century movers and shakers who shaped the town and the world around them. The ravages of time and vandalism, along with dwindling interest and and a lack of money are making for an uncertain future for the cemetery.

The cemetery is at the end of Hoyt Street, just off Winton Road. It's sandwiched between homes and Route 490.

One member of the cemetery's association, who can trace her roots back to one of Brighton's earliest settlers, is doing what she can to keep the cemetery going.

Ruth Porter is a descendent of Enos Blossom, who came to Brighton in 1805. Blossom was one of the founders of the Allens Creek School and it's his family for which Blossom Road is named. Most of the Blossom family, and their relatives, including Porter's husband, are buried in the cemetery.

The association has dwindled though the years, falling from a membership of nine to four.

"Most of the members like myself are getting on in years, and are beginning to die off," said association member Ruth Porter. "Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be the interest in or knowledge of the cemetery to replace us."

In an effort to rekindle the fire of interest, Porter has spent the last two years, compiling a history of the cemetery along with a listing of the plots.

Porter's history includes the stories behind the people who are buried there. People like William Clough Bloss, a noted abolitionist, suffragist, and member of the temperance movement.

Bloss wasn't always against the consumption of alcohol.

"At one time in his life he owned a tavern on the Erie Canal into which mule drivers from the barges would come and have a good time," Porter said. "One day Bloss just decided alcohol was evil and he took his bottles of liquor one by one and emptied them into the canal."

In 1834, Bloss became known for his anti-slavery position when he published the essay, "The Rights of Man."

"'The Rights of Man thrust Bloss into national prominence as an abolitionist," Porter said. "He also created a stir by once sitting with and taking communion with blacks at a church service while he a was a representative in Albany."

In 1838, Bloss also came out supporting the right of women to vote. The memorial to his family calls him "a man ahead of his time."

William Clough Bloss wasn't the only prominent member of his family. His sister, Celestia Bloss, founded the first private school in Rochester, the Culver Street Seminary. She was so highly regarded by her students they erected a memorial to her in the cemetery after she died.

Also buried in the cemetery is Orringh Stone, builder of the Stone-Tolan House, the oldest structure in Monroe County. Originally a log cabin, the home became an inn for travelers along the Erie Canal, including the future King of France, Phillipe, and Aaron Burr.

Canal history figures prominently in the cemetery. Amasa Drake, who supervised the building of the canal's aqueduct through downtown Rochester, is buried there as is Isaac Moore who supervised canal construction in Brighton.

Also buried in the cemetery is local newspaperman and historian Arch Merrill who wrote a series of popular books about the Erie Canal and Western New York history. Though Merrill died in 1974, many of his books are still in print.

Unfortunately, all this history seems to mean little to the vandals who plunder the cemetery on a regular basis.

"We're hard hit by vandals," Porter said. "They've destroyed headstones, damaged headstones, and stolen headstones."

The association doesn't have the money to hire someone to discourage vandals. In fact, they're running out of money. Porter said their endowment is down to about $30,000. Unfortunately, the association doesn't know where to turn for help.

"We're a Brighton cemetery, but we're in the city of Rochester," Porter said, "and the city has trouble keeping up its other cemeteries."

Brighton historian Mary Jo Barone knows the cemetery is important to the town's history, but can't lend more than moral support to the association.

"Unfortunately, my hands are tied because it's not in the town," she said. "Hopefully, I can interest a group like Historic Brighton in helping, but they're still a really small organization."

The cemetery wasn't always in this sort of limbo. As a matter of fact, until 1892 it was attached to a church, the Brighton Congregational Church, now the Brighton Presbyterian Church.

In 1892, as the church divested itself from the cemetery, the Brighton Cemetery Association was born. In the early 1900's the event which leaves the cemetery in its current predicament took place. The City of Rochester annexed part of Brighton, including the village of Brighton in which the cemetery lay.

Porter is hopeful the cemetery will survive, but doesn't know what's going to happen.

"If the association dies and the money dries up I don't know what will happen to the cemetery," she said. "It's a shame because it's such an important piece of the town's history.

The first post of my stories written while as reporter for the Brighton-Pittsford Post. This story is about the struggle of a young woman to deal with serious burns suffered as a child and how she raises awareness for burn victims.

After the fire, comes life

By Matt Ried

Imagine growing up with disfiguring scars over 65 percent of your body and not remembering life before your accident.

Who do you turn to for support? How would you deal with it?

That's the life of Wendy Hunt of Fort Collins, Colo., who was burned when she was just 3 years old. But it could just as easily be anyone you know - a friend, a neighbor, or a co-worker.

Every day, someone in the United States suffers serious burns, leaving them to deal not only with the healing of physical scars, but emotional ones as well.

That's one of the reasons the Finger Lakes Regional Burn Association, based on East River Road in West Brighton, was formed. It's also the reason the association sponsored Burn Survivor Day, held at Brighton Fire Department's station No. 1 on East Avenue this past Sunday, Feb. 4.

The event, which was held to kick off Burn Awareness Week, Feb. 5 through 9, brought local burn survivors together to hear the story of Wendy Hunt and to share in their own stories.

A partnership

The Finger Lakes Regional Burn Association was formed in 1988 as a partnership between local fire agencies and burn-care centers to provide support for burn survivors, burn-prevention education, and financial resources for burn-care centers.

At the time it was formed, Strong Memorial Hospital was the only burn center affiliated with the association. Now, the association has expanded to include burn centers in Buffalo and Syracuse.

Association president John Hall of Irondequoit was one of its founders.

"There are lots of burn survivors who haven't had the opportunity to socialize," he said. "The goal of events such as this is to get them together to talk and help them on the road to becoming more confident about themselves."

The association provides support to survivors in all sorts of ways.

"We guide them through all aspects of their recovery," Hall said. "Survivors have to deal with effects of their scars on their appearance, their sex life, interactions at home, and in the workplace."

He spoke of one boy burned by playing with matches.

"He's very shy," Hall said. "Other kids have made fun of him because of his scars. But through the efforts of programs like our burn camp, he's starting to come out of his shell."

Burn camp is another aspect of the organization's outreach. Held every year at Camp Asbury on Silver Lake, the camp provides fun and support to children who are burn survivors.

"We have an almost 1-to-1 staff-to-camper ratio," Hall said. "In addition to making sure the kids have fun, we provide them with a significant amount of emotional counseling."

The burn camp has grown so popular, the association is looking for a larger camp to hold it at in the near future.

Wendy's story

Wendy Hunt was a vibrant 3-year-old growing up in Fort Collins, Colo., when her life changed forever. During a family visit, she and her cousins were playing in a fort in her yard. There was a bonfire burning in the middle of the fort.

"One of the cousins, who was 7, took a Cool Whip container of gasoline and started to pour it on the fire," Hunt said.

What happened next scarred two families forever.

"The fire started to flash," Hunt recalled. "My cousin started to get scared and threw the container at the fire. The gasoline splashed all over us."

Hunt's 7-year-old cousin was so severely burned he died from his injuries. Hunt was burned over 65 percent of her body. Her two cousins suffered burns over 35 to 40 percent of theirs.

Hunt spent four months in the hospital, undergoing multiple surgeries to treat the burns.

"I don't remember any of this," she said. "Everything I've said was told to me by family members. I don't remember my life before I was burned."

Like many burn survivors, Hunt struggled initially to deal with her scars. Throughout most of her childhood, there were no burn camps or support groups to help her deal with her injuries.

"I didn't go to my first burn camp until I was 11," she said.

It was around that time when Hunt decided that she wasn't going to let her appearance limit her.

"I was becoming a teen-ager, and I wanted to do all the things teen-agers do - play sports, date, go to dances, etc.," she said. "The only way that was going to happen was if I went out and did it."

Hunt took the initiative. She started going to dances and trying out for sports. If no one asked her to dance, she would ask them.

"I decided I couldn't sit around and wait to be asked, because I might never be," she said.

As a result of her initiative, Hunt is very self-confident and an inspiration to at least one member of the burn association - co-facilitator Maria Lohr of Rochester.

"I was burned when I was 21," Lohr said. "It was very difficult because I was at the age when I wanted to start looking at developing a serious relationship and starting a family. I was very self-conscious after my accident and would wear clothing to cover myself up."

Then she met Hunt.

"It was at the World Burn Congress in Calgary," Lohr recalled. "There she was, getting off the bus in a spaghetti-strap dress, obviously very comfortable with herself. I later got the chance to talk to her and she became an inspiration to me."

Hunt inspired Lohr to follow her dreams. As a result, Lohr went back to school and recently graduated with a degree in social work. She will be leaving the burn association soon to take a job in Colorado.

Helping the Association

The Finger Lakes Burn Association holds a number of fund-raising efforts throughout the year, including the Burn Walk in June. Another event, which will be held at Bristol Mountain in March, is being organized by Brighton Fire Department battalion chief Alan Grossman.

"It's called the Firemen's Ski Race," he said. "Basically what it is are teams of firefighters who ski down the mountain wearing their full turnout gear. The proceeds will go toward the association."

Grossman said he is still seeking sponsors for the event.

For more information on the Finger Lakes Burn Association, call 482-6770 or write to Finger Lakes Burn Association, 300 E. River Road, Rochester, 14623.