| Canst thou
not minister to a mind diseased (MacBeth) |
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| With its many trees, shrubbery, and Gothic
buildings, the Chicago State Hospital |
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| Mental health treatment for the poor
even in 1851, at Dunning Hospital, suffered from the same problems that
plague such treatment today. They are lack of qualified physicians, lack
of money, overcrowded facilities, and poor follow up care. Good mental
health care has always been a two-tier system. Quality mental health care
including psychoanalysis are privileges afforded mainly to the wealthy
while the poor must relegate themselves to the whims of a often inadequate,
mismanaged, and inefficient public mental health system. In this realm I was not surprised to learn from my research of Dunning Hospital that it was opened in 1851 as a poor farm or almshouse. Dunning farm consisted of 160 acres and was sold to the county by a Peter Ludby, a farmer who managed to own land via squatter's rights back in 1839. In 1858, under the direction of a physician, Dr. D. B. Fonda, an insane asylum building was completed. This building was made of brick, three stories high, and it had a basement. The cost came to $25,000. |
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| The first bi-annual report of the Board of State Commissioners of Public Charities of the State of Illinois, dated December 1870, read as follows: Although the keeper of the Cook County Almshouse and insane asylum seems to be a humane, conscientious man, who conducts the institution on the best of his ability under the circumstances and surroundings, it is nevertheless for so wealthy a county a miserably planned and badly managed institution. |
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| The constantly increasing number of mentally
ill cases in the wards of the poor house made manifest the necessity of
expanding facilities. By 1871, a new and larger insane asylum was built,
replete with bathrooms, water closets and stairs to the yards. A dining
room, linen rooms, a laundry, a bakery, and a kitchen were later added
to the wings of the building. In 1872, a new library was fitted up for
the patients at a cost of $500.00. One of the large rooms in the rear
of the asylum was made into a sewing room, and this room was also used
for dances, once or twice a week for the patients. |
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| Dr. John Spray was medical director from
January 1, 1878, to September 1, 18825, and he was superintendent from
September 1, 1882 to September 1 1884. It was interesting to note that
of the patients under treatment during March 1884, there were 285 males
and 325 females. Out of this inmate population only 50 were born in America.
Of special interest also under Dr. Spray's tenure as superintendent were
his appointments of the very first female physicians to a mental health
facility in America. The female physicians were Drs. Delia Howe and Harriet
Alexander. |
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| Dunning was also the first mental health
hospital to appoint graduate and trained female nurses in charge of psychiatric
nursing and administration of all medications. In 1910, a large fire destroyed several buildings on the grounds. However, most of the property destroyed had been the antiquated infirmary buildings. By 1912, new construction over the 234 acres of land brought a hydrotherapy building, a tuberculosis infirmary, a morgue, a chapel, a pathological building, chicken houses and cultivation land, a training school for nurses, a drug store, swimming pool, and an infirmary that treated infectious diseases, primarily syphilis and gonorrhea. On July 1, 1912, the County of Cook transferred to the State of Illinois all lands, buildings, and equipment at Dunning. The name was changed from Cook County Institutions at Dunning, Illinois to Chicago State hospital. The first permanent superintendent appointed was Dr. George Leininger on April 7, 1913. He served well into the 1940's. Accept for the new administration building finished in 1916, and the Horner building, completed in 1937, little construction was added up to 1968, when the old facilities were phased out and later fell to wreckers, thus giving way to the ultramodern, Read Center which emphasized deinstitutionalization and strong chemotherapy treatment. |
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| Mental health treatment has always lagged behind
the progress of modern medicine. In 1915, Dr F. B. Clark, once acting
superintendent at Dunning wrote, "the treatment plan of the insane
person is one of medieval unpleasantness. The use of hydrotherapy, electro-shock
therapy, and hormone injections (insulin) are terrifying, harmful, and
questionable treatment value to patient". |
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| It was not until 1956, that Chicago State
Hospital (CSH) instituted a large chemotherapy treatment plan for its
mentally ill patients, reducing the agony of hydrotherapy, electro-shock
therapy (ECT), and insulin shock. When ECT was administered to the patients,
neighbors along Narragansett could hear loud screams and pleas for mercy.
I can recall as a youngster while riding my bicycle along Narragansett
and hearing these cacophonous sounds. It was enough to unnerve anybody. Besides the unrelenting screams, there always excited a fear among the neighborhood surrounding CSH that an inmate would escape at night, break into one's home, and strangle someone in their bed. Today there is still a fear of the mentally ill. In the 1920's and 1930's, people were even more fearful. People living around CSH locked their doors, slept with a pipe or baseball bat by their beds or even kept a gun or knife in reaching distance. Their irrational fear caused strange behavior. |
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| Even with lax security,
escapes from CSH were minimal. Patients in long-term institutions are
fearful of the outside world and this fear is even greater if they have
spent half their lives there. Art Seurbon, who still owns a shoe repair
shop on Irving Park Road, told me about a patient at CSH called, Wolfman.
During the cycle of the full moon, Wolfman would scale the eight-foot
picket iron fence and fun into nearby Mount Olive Cemetery, where he would
bay like a wolf. The police and warders were dispatched to the cemetery
with flashlights to bring him back. |
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| Tragically in 1951, a 300-pound black
lady tried to scale the same iron fence and became impaled on one of the
spearhead like fence pickets. One of the more interesting facets of Chicago State Hospital was Cook County Car No. 1. From 1918 to 1939, this 60,000-pound interurban type car made weekly trips, carrying mentally ill patients from the Cook County Hospital to Dunning Hospital. For many patients this was their last journey, as many would be warehoused at this hospital for the remainder of their lives. Cook County Car No. 1 was built in 1918, at the West Shop of the Chicago Surface Lines. The Glowczewski family, who lived on the Northwest Side of Chicago for many years, remembers it, "being painted an ugly dark green with oversized wheels, and it moved like a Sturmorser tank along Irving Park Road." The car had separate sections for the male and female patients. The female patients were closest to the motorman. |
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| Once inside Cook County Car No. 1, one would find
sleeping berths, leather reclining chairs and small cabinets. Usually
the crew consisted of two attendants, a nurse, and a physician. Unruly
or agitated patients were strapped to the beds. Patients who were infirm
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| were removed by wheel chairs and stretchers
upon reaching Dunning Hospital. When the car's work was finished, it would
return to the old Kedzie station at Kedzie and Van Buren via Irving Park
Road to Milwaukee Avenue (Six Corners), to California Avenue to Chicago
Avenue, west on Chicago to Kedzie, and then subsequently, to the Kedzie
depot. Two Irish lads regularly piloted the hospital trolley from its inception of service in 1918, to its last run o May 18, 1939. They were motorman Danial O'Brien and conductor Patrick Gibbons. Since it was of no value to the Surface lines, Cook County Car No. 1 was scrapped in late 1939. Starting in 1940, a $17,000 gas bus brought patients from the Cook County Hospital to Chicago State Hospital. |
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| One wonders with the demise of such places
like Chicago State Hospital, where long-term hospitalization was the rule rather than the exception; we see the influx of street people and the homeless. Years ago the majority of these people would be in institutions like Dunning Hospital and off the streets. Now with deinstitutionalization and chemotherapy, patients are discharged after two weeks and many become unable to adjust to society. They make up the core of the homeless. |
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| I asked Dr. Harold Visotsky,
former Illinois Mental Health Commissioner (1962-1969). About deinstitutionalization
and street people and he told me only 5% of the mentally ill patients
treated in state institutions cannot make the transition from the hospital
to a meaningful, productive role in society. An advocate of deinstitutionalization,
Dr. Visotsky believes in returning the patient back to society quickly
and he sees warehousing of patients like Dunning did for years a waste
of tax dollars. Richard J. Vachula Brought To You By : Abandoned Asylum |
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