The Experience
I recently had the opportunity to explore Pennhurt. I had been wanted to explore this asylum for 10 years. It completely lived up to its name and creepy factor. When I first enterned the property I saw the noticed greating new patient building. Not a greating really, but I felt as if I was in the movie Shutter Island. The building are decayed with windows that seem to stair at you as if they are alive. Making our way through the tour we learned about the terrible history of the hospital and how patients were treated. Clearly as I roamed the property I could feel and incredible energy like no other. After getting access to a couple building we met with one of the nurses that used to work at Pennhurst. Her stories were incredible and felt honored to have met her. One to this place is one of the most heavily guarded asylums I have been to. Do not try to trespass, you will be caught fined. Below is some of the history of Pennhurst.
The History of Pennhurst
Back in the mid 1960s, fledgling TV reporter Bill Baldini ran a five-episode exposé of Pennhurst State School and Hospital on Philadelphia’s TV10 (now an NBC affiliate). It painted a picture of neglect and abuse in the Chester County institution that was hard for the regular viewers to stomach. On the flickering monochrome televisions of the time came images of full-grown hands and feet bound by straps to adult-sized crib beds. Inmates of the institution were shown rocking, pacing, and twitching. Many were severely disabled either mentally or physically, but others were quite lucid and coherent—but withdrawn into themselves because of over-stimulation of the senses in the loud and sometimes frightening place, and a lack of much-needed mental stimulation. The five-minute news segments were entitled “Suffer the Little Children.” When one patient was asked by the interviewer what he would like most in the world, if he could have anything he wanted, the sad and withdrawn reply was simply, “To get out of Pennhurst.
This state-funded school and hospital center was at the heart of the human rights movement that revolutionized this country’s approach to healthcare for the mentally and physically handicapped. This facility was one of the most striking examples of the Home state Hauntingsmaltreatment that was characteristic of such institutions––at one point, papers labeled it “The Shame of the Pennsylvania”.
Pennhurst first opened its doors in November of 1908, and due to pressure to accept not only the mentally and physically handicapped, but also immigrants, criminals and orphans who could not be housed elsewhere, it was overcrowded within only a few years. In 1913, the Commission for the Care of the Feeble-Minded was appointed, and boldly stated that those with disabilities were “unfit for citizenship” and furthermore, “posed a menace to the peace.” Patients at Pennhurst were grouped into several general categories. Under the classification of mental prowess, one was listed as either an “imbecile” or “insane”. Physically, the patient could be declared either “epileptic” or “healthy”.
Like many similar facilities of the era, Pennhurst was functioned almost completely independently from the rest of society. It operated its own power plant, policed its own grounds and produced its own food. Any additional needs were supplied by a railway line that connected the campus to the outside world. The facility could operate without any interaction with the surrounding community, and that was the way the community preferred it.
By the mid-1960s, Pennhurst had been open for fifty years. It housed 2,791 people, most of them children, which was about 900 more than the administration thought the buildings could comfortably accommodate. But as a state school, they had to take what they were given. Only 200 of the residents were in any kind of art, education, or recreation programs that would help to improve their condition, though many of the patients were high-functioning enough to improve with the right care. The administrators interviewed in this program recognized that they were falling short of their ideal treatment, but with a crumbling building, a budget shortfall of four million dollars, and only 9 medical doctors and 11 teachers (none of them with special education training), their hands were tied.
Probably the most chilling scene in the 30 minutes of documentary footage in the TV10 report showed one of the hospital’s physicians describing how he dealt with a particularly vicious bully who had brutalized one of his other inmates. He described how he had asked one of his colleagues which injection he could use to cause the most discomfort to a patient without permanently injuring him. Then he proceeded to administer that injection to the bully.
From that point on, it was inevitable that the hospital would close down, but it took two decades of legal actions, federal judgments made and overturned, and growing financial crises for the place to be shuttered. By the 1980’s, overcrowding, lack of funds, inadequate staffing and decades of abuse and neglect accusations caught up with the operation, and in 1987 Pennhurst closed its doors. Its death was not without positive impact, though. The martyrdom of its long suffering patients helped put into motion changes to medical practice across the country and to society as a whole.
Despite the ultimate outcome, many former residents and staff members maintain that Pennhurst served some of its inmates very well. Some high-functioning patients received the treatment and therapies they needed to prepare themselves for living in the outside world. And some patients were so mentally handicapped that they injured themselves at the slightest provocation. One patient would charge into the walls headfirst. Such patients probably needed to be restrained for their own protection.
