The road to hell is paved with good intentions and might be lined with Callery pear trees.
Strong statement, but no doubt many botanists and homeowners would agree. Callery pears, Pyrus calleryana, have a history. While great trees in their native East Asian habitats, when planted elsewhere they can become a thorn in a community’s side.
Callery pears came to the United States in the early twentieth century. As agriculture blossomed, new cultivars were desired to increase heartiness and profits. These pears were brought to this country under the aegis of the United States Department of Agriculture through their Foreign Seed and Plant Introduction office, which engaged explorers to roam the world looking for robust, useful plants to bring back for farmers and commerce.
To strengthen the varieties of edible pears, Callery pears were grafted for use as roots stock and crossed with other pear varieties to increase resistance to fire blight. Their value as an ornamental came later, when a non-thorny, early flowering cultivar with attractive fall foliage was anointed as “the chosen one” in the late 1950s.
Bradford Pear was hailed as the perfect street and yard tree. Even the New York Times got in on the praise, exclaiming, “Few trees possess every desired attribute, but the Bradford ornamental pear comes unusually close to the ideal.”
The Vineyard was not immune to its charms. In the 1970s, the Friends of Tisbury planted Clough Lane with these trees and also some on Spring and William streets. Circuit avenue in Oak Bluffs was also lined with Bradford pears.
Over time, folks fell out of love with the Bradford pear, as it was leaving (or leafing) hard feelings between neighbors and not living up to its rosy reputation.
The most obvious and odiferous issue was the scent of those early blooming flowers. Described as akin to rotten fish, that smell did not endear it to many, though some still held an affection for the bountiful blooms despite the flatulent fragrance.
These trees were not long lived, nor could they manage harsh weather or wind, and limbs often crashed down on the streets, sidewalks, and yards. In 2016, Clough neighbor fought neighbor over the removal of two of these so-called “unstable and malodorous” trees. Some trees (not residents) did go, but others remain and are flowering and fetid now.
Further erasure of Bradford pears from the Island landscape occurred during the Circuit Avenue Streetscape improvements in 2022 when the new plant plan didn’t include the previously existing Callery pear varieties. Polly Hill Arboretum staff suggested Ivory Silk Lilac Trees as replacement. We’ll see how history treats those.
Besides the arresting aroma, Callery pears are not well regarded for other reasons, including their limitations on attracting a diversity of pollinators, crowding out of native species, inedible and toxic to humans fruit, and most of all, invasive qualities. While Bradford pears cannot self-pollinate, they can cross-pollinate with other Callery cultivars and spread indiscriminately, escaping their homes and dispersing thorny hybrids into the wilds.
These pears have been banned in a handful of states, and are not recommended for planting in others. Ohio, South Carolina, and Pennsylvania forbid their sale and import, and just last week New Jersey followed in their footsteps. Massachusetts regulators put Callery Pear on its Prohibited Plant list in 2024, but that ban is still in its in its phase-out period. The sale of these forsaken fruit trees will finally be outlawed in the commonwealth by the last day of December 2028.
It is heartening that our stare will nip in the bud any future planting of this putrid pear, but don’t blame the tree. It was imported with pure purpose and the best of intentions — just like that aforementioned road.
