Root Beer, Railways, and Revolutionaries
Tracing Avon’s Journey Through Time
Photos and story by George Cassidy Payne
Nestled between rolling farmland and the winding Genesee River, Avon, New York is a village where echoes of the past blend seamlessly with the rhythms of the present. Its Main Street, lined with an old tavern, a Civil War monument, a classic post office, and a historic movie theater, might feel like a portal to a simpler era. But look closer, and you’ll find a place rich with reinvention, storytelling, and deep-rooted community pride.
Before Avon was Avon, the land belonged to the Seneca Nation, one of the Six Nations of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois Confederacy). Just across the river was Ga:non’wagês (Conawagus), a prominent Seneca village at the intersection of ancient trade routes. This land was once a hub of diplomacy, spirituality, and cultural life; far from a forgotten past, it still pulses beneath the village’s foundations.
In 1735, Handsome Lake, a Seneca prophet, was born here. His teachings, rooted in traditional beliefs yet informed by a changing world, inspired the Longhouse Religion, blending Iroquois customs with select Christian values. He spoke of environmental collapse and corrupt power long before climate change entered global discourse. His message still reverberates across generations of Haudenosaunee descendants.
By the mid-19th century, Avon had reinvented itself as a wellness destination, thanks to its famed sulphur-rich springs. The Avon Inn, built around 1840, emerged as the village’s crown jewel. Originally the home of broom corn magnate Jonathan H. Gerry, it transformed into a health resort in 1866, treating malaria, rheumatism, and neuralgia. Word of Avon’s healing waters spread along the East Coast, drawing in celebrities and industrial titans alike.
Over time, the Avon Inn became a place of “firsts”: the first building in the Genesee Valley with central heating, the first in upstate New York to install an elevator, and home to the county’s first bank and post office. Guests included George Eastman, Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, Harvey Firestone, and Katharine Hepburn, among others. In 1979, a fire nearly destroyed the Inn, but after painstaking renovations and a relaunch in 2018, it now stands fully restored, complete with a grand ballroom and boutique hotel rooms that blend comfort with heritage.
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Avon also made its mark in a more classic American way: with burgers, fries, and root beer floats. In 1955, local entrepreneur Tom Wahl opened a small Twin Kiss ice cream stand on Routes 5 and 20. What began as a roadside stop grew into a beloved regional institution. Known for its commitment to quality and refusal to cut corners, the original Tom Wahl’s is still operating today. In 2023, it earned a spot on the New York State Historic Business Preservation Registry, cementing its status as both a family tradition and a symbol of regional pride.
Just south of the village stands one of Avon’s most enduring landmarks: the Five-Arch Bridge. Built between 1856 and 1857 by the Genesee Valley Railroad, this 200-foot limestone bridge once carried trains from Rochester to Mt. Morris. Electrified in 1907, the line made thirteen runs daily until its closure in 1941. The bridge was later integrated into a public park, and in 2012, it was added to the State and National Register of Historic Places — a tribute to its enduring craftsmanship and historical value.
Avon’s narrative is also written on its walls. In 2023, Rochester-based artist Shawn Dunwoody unveiled a bold, colorful mural on the side of the Avon Fire Hall. Spelling out A-V-O-N in large letters, each panel tells a visual story of the village’s heritage, bringing the past into the present through vibrant public art.
And woven into the village’s legacy are the lives of those who fought for justice. Among them is Julia Wilbur (1815–1895), an abolitionist, suffragist, and early member of the Rochester Ladies’ Anti-Slavery Society, who helped fund Frederick Douglass’ newspaper and worked alongside Susan B. Anthony. She kept meticulous diaries during the Civil War, chronicling both historic events and daily life. Buried in Avon Cemetery, her story adds another layer to the village’s enduring commitment to progress.
Visitors today can stroll through Gilbert Berry Park, Papermill Park, or the Park Circle, where veterans are honored in stone. They can stand beside the Five-Arch Bridge, dine at the Avon Inn, or take in the mural’s radiant colors. And if they’re lucky, they’ll do it with a root beer float in hand and the distant sound of a train whistle echoing in memory.
What binds Avon together, from sulphur baths to suffrage, soft-serve to stone bridges, is a deep reverence for place. This is a village that doesn’t merely preserve its past, it breathes with it. It invites residents and visitors alike to slow down, listen, and linger.
Avon asks us not just to remember, but to belong. Whether you’re watching sunlight dance off the Genesee, savoring a Wahlburger beneath neon lights, or standing before Julia Wilbur’s gravestone in quiet reflection, you’ll feel it: the pull of a small village with a big, beating heart.
