The drug store as a separate enterprise made a surprisingly early appearance in the Genesee Country. In the outlying areas, the only source of drugs would be the doctor, except for some herb concoctions or nostrums a wife or midwife might stir up. The doctor, for the most part, prepared his drugs in his own office and carried a supply of them in his saddlebag.

In the larger villages, however, there was sufficient demand to attract the services and skills of a man versed, if not professionally trained, in the art of preparing medicines, remedies and drugs. Many of the druggist's compounds were prepared with no other guidance than a Pharmacopoeia, a massive tome giving Latin names, ingredients required, quantities needed, methods of preparation, the condition to be remedied and the hoped-for results — everything but how much to charge.

Early in the 19th Century, the village pharmacist was likely to find himself in competition with the village doctor, both of whom were accustomed to prescribing and selling medicines for their customers and patients. But by mid-century, pharmacology and medicine evolved into separate and more scientific professions.

Along with a wide assortment of remedies and medicines that the pharmacist measured and mixed in his shop, he carried an impressive array of patent medicines. In addition, he often handled painters supplies, colors for oils, window glass and perfumery.

For more than a quarter of a century, the building now housing the Drug Store stood vacant near the Finger Lakes hamlet of Tyrone, a few miles from the Altay Store. Like other hamlets that have been by-passed as travel routes are altered, Tyrone retains much of its 19th-Century character. The building, c. 1840, is representative of the Greek Revival temple form, adapted to serve commercial purposes.