Rolling Toomer’s Corner stands as one of the most cherished and visually iconic traditions in college sports. Nestled in the heart of Auburn, Alabama, at the junction of College Street and Magnolia Avenue, Toomer’s Corner is far more than just a busy intersection; it is a sacred ground to Auburn University students, alumni, and fans alike. The act of “rolling” Toomer’s Corner with toilet paper, transforming its majestic oak trees into streams of white celebration, is a vivid testament to school pride, community identity, and the emotionally charged culture of college athletics. Over time, this unique tradition has come to symbolize everything that makes college football—and especially SEC football—so beloved and intense across the American South.
The origin of the tradition is wrapped in layers of lore and fond memory, stretching back to the mid-20th century. While some say the custom started in the 1950s, others point to the 1970s as when it gained real traction. The legend goes that the tradition began when employees at Toomer’s Drugs, a popular soda shop and pharmacy that once sat at the corner, would throw ticker tape (or adding machine paper) over the power lines to celebrate Auburn football victories. This spontaneous display of joy gradually evolved into the celebratory rolling of the trees with toilet paper. Over the decades, it has become a visual indicator that Auburn fans are proud, happy, and united. It is not only done after big wins over rivals such as Alabama or Georgia but also after any notable victory, in any sport, and occasionally even non-sporting achievements that bring glory to Auburn.
More than a symbolic celebration, the tradition of rolling Toomer’s Corner is a ritual that forges a bond between generations of Auburn faithful. From students to alumni to lifelong residents of the town, the act is shared across age groups, backgrounds, and regions. Children are hoisted onto shoulders to toss their first roll, students sprint from Jordan-Hare Stadium after a dramatic win to join the crowd, and alumni return during homecoming weekends to relive the moment. To roll Toomer’s is to physically mark a memory in Auburn’s history, and in the hearts of everyone who participates.
However, the emotional weight carried by Toomer’s Corner also makes it a lightning rod for drama, heartbreak, and resilience. One of the darkest chapters in the story of this beloved tradition occurred in 2010 when an Alabama fan named Harvey Updyke called into a local radio show and gleefully confessed to poisoning the Toomer’s oaks with a deadly herbicide called Spike 80DF. His act of vandalism, committed shortly after Auburn’s victory over Alabama in the Iron Bowl, and during a season where Cam Newton led the Tigers to a national championship, was met with widespread outrage, not just from Auburn fans, but from college football fans across the country. The cultural weight of what he had done was understood even by those with no allegiance to Auburn. It wasn’t just about two trees—it was about an attack on identity, on community, and on a tradition that had brought joy to thousands.
Despite extensive efforts by arborists and horticulturists, the original oaks could not be saved. The sight of them slowly deteriorating over time was heartbreaking. Auburn held a final rolling of the original trees in April 2013, where fans came together in droves to say goodbye, and many were moved to tears. The moment was both an end and a promise of renewal. Auburn University pledged to replant new trees and ensure the tradition would live on.
In 2015, new live oaks were planted to replace the poisoned originals. The process of healing was both literal and symbolic. Auburn didn’t simply plant trees—they restored a piece of their soul. Unfortunately, adversity struck again in 2016 when one of the new trees was set on fire by a vandal following Auburn’s victory over LSU. Once again, the Auburn community had to rally, reinforcing the idea that Toomer’s Corner is more than just trees—it’s the resilient spirit of a community that refuses to be broken.
And rally they did. The university responded with strengthened security measures, and more importantly, a renewed sense of vigilance and reverence from the Auburn faithful. Additional trees were planted, and the university even instituted a temporary ban on rolling the new trees to give them time to establish strong roots. Eventually, the ban was lifted, and the rolling resumed, this time with even more meaning than before. Every white stream of toilet paper hanging from the limbs symbolized survival, unity, and the strength of tradition.
The modern-day celebration at Toomer’s Corner incorporates more than just rolling trees. It’s become a full-blown communal event with music, chants, speeches, and shared emotion. It is where Auburn fans go to mark major accomplishments: not just football victories, but big wins in basketball, baseball, softball, equestrian, and beyond. During the 2019 NCAA Tournament run, when Auburn’s men’s basketball team advanced to the Final Four for the first time in program history, fans filled Toomer’s Corner to celebrate, showing that the tradition extends far beyond fall Saturdays.
Even more impressively, the tradition has not remained locked in place but has evolved while retaining its essence. Auburn University has embraced the rolling of Toomer’s as an official part of school life, and the city of Auburn has invested in keeping the site clean, safe, and accessible. The visual of a completely whitewashed Toomer’s Corner is now frequently captured on ESPN, broadcast nationally, and shared across social media as a symbol of joy in collegiate athletics. For Auburn’s sports programs, the corner is not just a post-game ritual but a recruiting tool and a visual rallying cry.
Students at Auburn often describe rolling Toomer’s as one of the highlights of their college experience. It doesn’t matter if the game was against a big-name opponent or a small non-conference team—any excuse to roll Toomer’s is embraced. Alumni return for games and often go directly to the corner, even before kickoff, to reminisce and share stories. Tourists visit just to take pictures of the trees or to witness the phenomenon. And new fans, perhaps drawn by the magic of Auburn’s culture, find themselves partaking with rolls in hand, swept up in a feeling of instant belonging.
That sense of belonging is perhaps the most important aspect of what makes Toomer’s Corner special. In an age of digital disconnection, tribal divisions, and fleeting attention spans, a tradition that brings people together physically, emotionally, and generationally is rare and vital. At Toomer’s, people from different walks of life stand shoulder-to-shoulder, faces lit with smiles and joy, united by the love of their school. It is not a tradition of exclusion or superiority—it is one of warmth, shared celebration, and continuity.
The scene following a significant Auburn win is something out of a movie: the sky often filled with the flutter of toilet paper rolls soaring into the air, laughter echoing in the streets, horns honking in jubilation, and generations of fans young and old throwing their arms around each other. As the sun sets and the white streams glow under the streetlights, it becomes evident that this is more than just a sports ritual. It’s a spiritual experience for those who bleed orange and blue.
The name “Toomer’s Corner” itself carries its own legend. The Toomer family and their drugstore were local fixtures, serving soda fountain drinks and Auburn spirit in equal measure. The building may no longer be what it once was, but the name lives on as a synonym for celebration. Many Auburn fans don’t even say “let’s roll the trees” anymore—they simply say, “let’s go to Toomer’s,” and everyone knows what it means. It’s where the community instinctively gathers, even after late-night games, rainstorms, or emotional rollercoasters of victory.
Toomer’s Corner has endured threats both natural and manmade. It has stood as a beacon of unity during championships and as a place for reflection during tragedy. During the COVID-19 pandemic, when stadiums were empty and games were canceled or played under strange restrictions, Toomer’s remained a hopeful symbol. Even if fans couldn’t roll it in the moment, its presence reminded them of the joy that would return. And when it did, the pent-up celebration was something to behold.
As college sports continue to evolve—through the transfer portal, NIL deals, conference realignments, and expanded playoffs—there is a yearning for elements of the game that remain pure, local, and emotionally driven. Rolling Toomer’s Corner is exactly that. It isn’t about money, or exposure, or even the win-loss column. It’s about what that win means to a community, a student body, and a fanbase. It’s about coming together to mark a moment, to say, “we were here, and we are proud.”
So whether it’s after a win over Alabama in the Iron Bowl, a buzzer-beater against Kentucky, or a College World Series berth clinched in Omaha, Toomer’s Corner will be waiting. The trees may change, the traditions may adapt, and the players may come and go, but the heart of Auburn lives in every roll of white that graces those limbs. It is Auburn’s victory cry, their joyful noise, and their most beautiful mess. And as long as there are Auburn fans who believe in their school, Toomer’s Corner will never be silent or clean for long.
