The Shame of the Nation

In 1968, a CBS anchor worked tirelessly on a segment exposing the horrific conditions of this state school. It is a devastating piece of journalism from a time when it was easier to turn a blind eye to the state’s answer for housing people with mental or physical disability, then regarded as one and the same.

It was a formula familiar to many other institutions of this kind. But the staggering abuse, disgusting conditions, and overcrowding here were excessive. It quickly gained notoriety as one of the worst facilities in the entire country.

This place closed in 1986 after a class action lawsuit decimated any scrap of decency its reputation still held. The now privately-owned abandoned buildings stand to this day. It feels old and familiar to me, since I’ve known of its history for a very long time. But I kinda wanted to shoot it anyways. So Matt and I decided screw it and hit the road at 5:00 on a Sunday morning.

FIRST BUILDING – GROUND FLOOR

This was a dormitory building. My understanding is that the ground floor is still used occasionally for historical tours and ghost hunts, and the owners appear to be amassing a small museum of relics in one area.

The floorplan here is the same as it is in similar institutions. Great rooms divided by sectioned walls, where dozens of patients would mill about and sleep with little to no privacy. As stunning as the decay is, it’s sobering to think about how it must have looked some forty years ago. That thought hits me again as I look through these photos. It followed me home from here, and weighed on me for days.

The strangest thing that happened all day was this next photo. I was walking past a hospital bed, and my camera went off by itself. (Save your ghost copyright jokes. Trust me, I’ve already made them all.)

There were toys in many of the common areas. Some were very old, but others were familiar from my own childhood in the 90s and possibly later; definitely left after the place closed. If I had to guess, I would imagine they’re the result of ghost hunters, photographers, or other explorers leaving trigger objects or gifts for the departed children.

 FIRST BUILDING – SECOND FLOOR

On the second floor were additional smaller rooms. It was oddly pretty on this level. Light flooded the halls.

FIRST BUILDING – BASEMENT

The basement wasn’t very large, but there was some fascinating stuff hidden throughout it. I didn’t do any long exposures down here. All the shots are lit with a flashlight, either by direct beam or bouncing it off a wall/the ceiling. We used a large tactical flashlight, which Matt and I have lovingly dubbed The Basher. Without it, it’s completely dark. As I first discovered playing around in the cement factory, I dig the direct flashlight beam photos (in moderation…otherwise it becomes a gimmick).

CAMPUS

I saw the grounds on one of the last nice days of the year, before all the late autumn foliage disappeared. The red leaves against the brick buildings was admittedly picturesque.

Some buildings are in much better shape than others, but overall it’s been maintained pretty well. The catwalk system was interesting. The old swing set has definitely seen better days. It’s warped into what looks like a giant walking stick.

SECOND BUILDING – UPPER FLOORS

Another dormitory, this one is larger than the first and many of the other buildings on campus. It is beautiful. The shadows, the color palette, and the ambiance in here are otherworldly.

Parts of this building have been on fire. It feels like walking through an art installation. Soot and char run down the walls in jagged lines, the tell-tale stamp of flames extinguished.

SECOND BUILDING – BASEMENT

The basement is pitch-black and disorienting. We got turned around at least twice trying to navigate the H-shaped floorplan. A few of the rooms had boarded up windows that bled light, and the first four photos below are long exposure. The rest are lit with a flashlight.

CANDYLAND

In the depths of the basement is a former playroom with a disarmingly cheerful nickname; Candyland.

This was where we spent most of our time, rounding out probably an hour total stumbling around in the dark. There were boarded up windows in this room, and the leaking light let our eyes adjust a bit after ten minutes or so. It still wasn’t enough to forgo the flashlight, but it helped me capture some decent long exposures. We also played with the flashlight beam, yet again, using it for both bounce and direct light.

Candyland is known for the walls. The rudimentary murals of carousels, ice cream cones, children, and candy houses were I’m sure innocent at one point, but have decomposed into what feels like a nightmare world. It’s a bit surreal.

I have no other installments in this series planned until March. I’m gonna break for the winter.

For now, I’m putting together a portfolio book of all my photography explorations since May. This has been a refreshing year for me. Returning to fine art has pulled me out of the labyrinth of my own neurotic head.

Desolo has been a large commitment. There are parts of my photography business that I have, coincidentally enough, abandoned in the process. Eight months ago, I made the decision to focus primarily on weddings, which I love doing, and dedicate the rest of my time to my writing and my art. I am infinitely happier for it. For the first time in a while, I feel like I have a place. Sometimes that place is in shadowy hallways and dusty basements, but it’s a place nonetheless.

See you in the spring.