Chances
are, near the neighborhood where you grew up, there was that one creepy old
abandoned building that your parents warned you not to go near. The urban legends, ghost stories, and rumors
piqued your curiosity and maybe, just
maybe, you mustered up the courage to go inside if your friends dared
you. If the facility was still in
operation, perhaps your parents told you to not act up or you’d be sent to the
old “loony bin”…
the state lunatic asylum.
I grew up in a small
town in West Virginia about 30 minutes from the Weston State Hospital, formerly
known as the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum (photos above by me... actually, all photos here were taken by me). The building was large in structure, looking
almost like a castle…
it was scary to be honest, but hauntingly beautiful at
the same time
I can remember as a kid,
some parents would say “You better act right, or you’ll get sent to
Weston”. That wasn’t really the case,
but the scare tactic worked! The
hospital closed in 1994 and sat abandoned until a private owner purchased it in
2007. It wasn’t until I got older that I
wanted to know and appreciate the
actual history. The stunning
architecture pulled me in and I felt a sense of an emotional attachment. It sounds odd, but I knew that
Trans-Allegheny and places like it had a much bigger story to tell and that
their history went well beyond the rumors and urban legends.
Through my research, I’ve met so many amazing people who
share my passion… and Kate was one of those people. We literally hit it off by talking about asylums. She told me about Northampton State Hospital
in Massachusetts, and how it was a place that was near and dear to her. She had spent an incredible amount of time
researching the history, and even wrote a book about it called “Hospital Hill”
– available on Amazon, I might add.
In
late 2011, I had the pleasure of meeting the folks that saved Pennhurst State
School and Hospital in Spring City, PA from demolition… I now call those people
my second family. Twice a year, I make
the 3,000 mile trek to go visit them at Pennhurst. We all share a bond over a place that is
extremely personal to us; it’s more than a location.
Ok, I get it … it’s weird to love places where atrocities occurred, people were admitted against their will, abuse ran rampant, and countless people died knowing nothing but the four walls of a cell.
Most people would assume asylums are a part
of our past we should just forget; their dark history should remain long gone
within the rubble of demolition. No one
would dispute the fact that these institutions have indeed seen dark
times.
But at their core, their
intentions were good.
Imagine… walking through the abandoned wards of a once bustling state institution - the broken windows, peeling paint, and patient belongings left behind paint a bleak picture of how life inside once was. The decay and overgrowth leave little room to appreciate some of the most stunning architecture this country has seen. If these walls could talk, they would tell stories of Christmas parties, state hospital sports teams, and recreation time at facility bowling alleys… yes, their own bowling alleys. These places were the only home that some knew and where doctors were pioneers in the medical community.
So why are these
buildings important and why should we care?
Asylums and state hospitals changed the faces of
journalism, architecture, psychiatry, and mental health in general.
These are
the lesser-known historical significances we hope to bring to light. Through this blog, Kate and I hope to open the
conversation around these topics, discover new details, educate the curious,
and share information from historians, authors, preservationists,
photographers, former patients and employees, and relatives of both. We want to cover all aspects of asylums: architecture, prominent figures in the medical
community, mental health treatments, preservation, and much more. I’m truly shocked at how many people I have
spoken with about these topics that have some kind of personal tie to these
locations.
Many of these beautiful structures have already been
demolished, with many more facing the wrecking ball.
Once the location itself is gone, most of the history is lost with it. Preservation is the key in understanding how vital and magnificent these buildings are.
Once the location itself is gone, most of the history is lost with it. Preservation is the key in understanding how vital and magnificent these buildings are.
This is America’s
forgotten history…
