When I returned to the abandoned Medfield State Hospital yesterday I got to thinking about how the little details that remain decaying on the property offer glimpses into what life was like for the patients and staff that lived and died working in this place. I discovered that my imagination is greatly helped if I simply peer into the windows of the buildings with windows that aren't completely covered with red painted plywood. Near the center of the campus is a building that appears to have been built in the the 1940s or 50s. It is easily identified by a spray painted sign over a door.
Here in the kitchens, some 2,000+ meals were prepared three times a day for employees and patients at the asylum. They grew and raised much of what they ate. Medfield Public Library's Adults Services Librarian Mare Parker-O'Toole opened up her files for me yesterday. Within her files I discovered an invaluable presentation prepared by a nurse who started working at the hospital in 1952. Veronica Hill wrote:
The Farm House, which is across the street from the Medfield Complex, as completed in 1901 to provide living quarters for the head farmer and his family, as well as 14 farm hands and 30 patients. The farm was to play a very important role in the lives of the patients and the economy of the hospital for many, many years. It was finally closed in the late 1960s as it was no longer economically feasible. It was really a shame to see the farm house and all the farm lands quiet down and no longer be productive. This had been a great source of patient working and needless to say we, and I mean that collectively, at the hospital enjoyed their efforts and their hard work by enjoying their fresh vegetable, the eggs, dairy products, and etc. It was really something. The patients really enjoyed it and we enjoyed the outcome of their work.
The farms were indeed productive places. Below is a scan of the bounty produced by the hospital during it's first six months of operation in 1896. They sure ate a lot of pickles. There was enough so every staff and patient could eat at least 30 pickles that year.
I discovered that my imagination isn't the only thing I have going for me. I can look at small details on the abandoned grounds. I can forage in archives for oral histories and other documents that describe what life is like. I can also just simply peer into the windows of the buildings with windows that aren't completely covered with red painted plywood. Near the center of the campus is a building that appears to have been built in the the 1940s or 50s.
It is easily identified by a spray painted sign over a door that says "kitchen." Let's take a peek.
If you visit, be careful when you peek. First, the vast majority of the buildings are falling apart and the wooden porches are rotting. The floors aren't able to support any weight. Additionally, there is a private security guard that randomly roams the property. He requested that I don't stand on porches (stable or not) to peer in windows.
I've always had a listening problem.
I am absolutely loving these posts. The history of MH in America is so quickly forgotten and with it many of the individual stories that helped shape what we know now. Thank you for bringing it back to life through thoughtful posts and images.
ReplyDeleteThank you. There are so many people--and stories--lost inside the asylums. Their lives are so important, both then and now.
Deletewow, I work in Direct Care with individuals that came from Wrentham State Hospital..........various Disabilities......Alot of them went through hell..........I came into this field 8 yrs ago....wanted to know more how these places where run...and locations...I live 2 towns over from Medfield State Hospital. Going to check it out....thankyou for info....Hits my heart deep.....
ReplyDeleteOne of my first jobs was working in direct care at a group home for people with various sorts of developmental disabilities. The folks in this particular group home were from the last handful of people discharged from a 2,000 bed institution. Their experiences still haunt me and, in many ways, motivate me to do what I am doing now. Let me know what you think about Medfield after your visit!
DeleteMy cousin David was living at the Wrentham State Hospital. I was born 1953, and David was born around 1956, I have faint memories of seeing him before he was admitted there. He would come home at the holidays, and I remember my Aunt and Uncle had a last time bringing him home, he didn't know anyone anymore, and had enormous strength, and it was the last time he came home. I have always remembered him as being very different than us, so sad. His parents and my cousins never spoke of him again, it was if he was dead, and I grew up asking about David and was told we don't talk about him anymore. I am not sure if he is alive , but if he is gone, I hope he is united with my mom and dad, and his father, my mom spoke up to strngers in a store one time, I will never forget it as long as I live..people were starring at David in such a way, my Mom said, "what's the matter..haven't you ever seen one of God's children?" Kudos to Mom!! Thank you all who have worked with these very precious people. Sincerely, Laurel A. Faletra
ReplyDeleteHi Laurel, thanks so much for sharing your story of your cousin. These stories of broken and displaced families are heartbreaking. Of the many things that I find sad about the old institutions, the nature of how they isolated people from the world is among what I find most disturbing.
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