Indiana’s Hospital for the Insane

“If only [the] mind were as easy to fix as [the] body.”
— Han Nolan

Spurred by a writing assignment and general curiosity, I recently visited the Indiana State Archives to explore the Central State Hospital Collection. Central State Hospital, originally called the Indiana Hospital for the Insane, opened on the west side of Indianapolis in 1848. In the beginning, patients were admitted from every county in the state. But eventually, space ran out, and in 1883, funding was approved for three additional mental hospitals to be built in Indiana. Even after the fourth hospital opened in 1890, crowding continued to be a problem.

In 1994, Central State Hospital closed its doors, and its records were transferred to the Archives. Most of the collection is confidential. To view a patient record, you have to be able to prove the patient is related to you. So, I dug into a piece of the collection that is open to the public: the Administrative History File. It includes information about the origins of the hospital and changes in the treatment of mental illness over the years.

One of the most interesting things I found: a table listing “probable causes of insanity” for 1753 patients admitted from 1848-1959, which included:

Abuse from Drunken Husbands
Accidental Homicide
Adultery
Avarice
Cessation of Menses
Confinement in Jail
Constitutional
Coup de Soliel
Defective Education and Dissipation
Disappointed Ambition
Disappointment in Love
Dissipation
Domestic Bereavements
Domestic Dissensions
Dyspepsia
Emigration and Disappointment
Epilepsy
Erysipelas
Excessive Lactation
Excessive Use of Medicine
Excessive Use of Quinine
Excessive Use of Tobacco
Excessive Venery
Fall
False Accusations
Fatigue and Anxiety
Fear of Want
Financial Difficulties
Followed Fever
Fright
Gormandizing
Husbands in California
Ill Treatment from Relatives
Injury to the Head
Intemperate Drinking
Intense Application
Jealousy
Know Nothingism
Legal Difficulty
Loss of Property
Loss of Sleep and Exposure
Mania a Potu
Masturbation
Mesmerism
Mexican War Excitement
Millerism
Nephritis
Nostalgia
Opposition in Marriage
Paralysis
Physical Disease
Political Excitement
Prostitution
Puerperal
Pulmonary Disease
Reading Vile Books
Religious Excitement and Anxieties
Seductions
Spermatorrhoea
Spinal Irritation
Spiritual Rappings
Sterility
Suppression of the Menses
Surgical Operation
Unknown
Use of Opium
Use of Thompsonian Medicine
Violent Temper
Want of Occupation

I entered all the data into a spreadsheet and came up with a few top ten lists.

Top Ten Most Common Causes of Insanity (Men and Women):

  • Unknown
  • Religious Excitement and Anxieties
  • Physical Disease
  • Domestic Bereavements
  • Puerperal
  • Loss of Sleep and Exposure
  • Disappointment in Love
  • Constitutional
  • Domestic Dissensions
  • Spiritual Rappings

Top Ten Most Common Causes of Insanity (Men):

  • Unknown
  • Religious Excitement and Anxieties
  • Spiritual Rappings
  • Disappointment in Love
  • Epilepsy
  • Domestic Bereavements
  • Financial Difficulties
  • Constitutional
  • Physical Disease
  • Masturbation

Top Ten Most Common Causes of Insanity (Women):

  • Puerperal
  • Domestic Bereavements
  • Unknown
  • Physical Disease
  • Religious Excitement and Anxieties
  • Domestic Dissensions
  • Suppression of the Menses
  • Disappointment in Love
  • Constitutional
  • Abuse from Drunken Husbands

Interestingly, disappointment in love made it into the top ten causes of insanity for both men and women, but there were more men admitted for this reason than women.

But I digress.

Clearly we have come a long way in understanding mental illness. We no longer hospitalize people for such odd reasons as “husbands in California,” “excessive lactation” or “reading vile books,” and we no longer consider insanity to be a synonym for depression. These are good things. This is progress.

Sadly, many of these patients probably did not require hospitalization, and we’re still struggling to find the right setting for people who are suffering with illnesses that are not easily treated with medicine. Institutionalization often does more harm than good, but trusting a suicidal and/or unpredictable patient to show up to outpatient care without hurting anyone is extremely risky. Unfortunately, treatment of the mentally ill is still largely an exercise in trial and error.
___

After exploring this collection, I discovered that you can still visit the grounds of Central State Hospital. The Indiana Medical History Museum is located there in the Old Pathology Building – the oldest surviving pathology facility in the nation. I visited the museum Saturday afternoon, and nosed around the grounds as much as I could. Most of the buildings are in terrible shape, and part of the city-owned property is now home to the IMPD Mounted Patrol.

Entrance of the Old Pathology Building

But still, it is a fascinating piece of Indiana history to explore – and certainly a unique way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

The Indiana Medical History Museum is located at 3045 West Vermont Street, Indianapolis. Open Thursday-Saturday, 10-4. Guided tours only. Admission is $5.

Charles & Hazel

Charles & Hazel Layton Family, 1928

I recently completed my first generation of Layton family genealogy, documenting the lives of Charles and Hazel (McKinley) Layton and their children. Charles and Hazel were my great-grandparents, but they both passed away before my birth, so I never met them. Two of their children, Max and Don, died during my lifetime, but I do not remember them.

I am not including in this post the full page of single-spaced, ten-point footnotes that accompany the master copy! I am also not including any information about children of the Layton brothers, my mother and her cousins.

Charles & Hazel Layton, 1956

Charles Layton was born in Kansas on 29 July 1891. He married Hazel McKinley, daughter of Lee and Ida (Sullivan) McKinley, on 25 December 1911 in Lebanon, Boone County, Indiana. Charles worked for the International Harvester Company until 1942, when he took over operation of the Greensburg Implement Company with his sons. He died 7 July 1965. Hazel died 13 October 1980. They are buried together in South Park Cemetery, Greensburg, Indiana.

Charles & Hazel had five sons:
Max Edwin, Forest Dow, Wilmer Reid,
Donald Neill, and Joseph Dale.

Max was born 24 July 1912 in Southport, Indiana. On 15 June 1941, he married Mary Maxine Nelson. He joined the US Navy during World War II.  Max passed away 12 February 1986 in Centerville, Wayne County, Indiana. Maxine passed away 4 January 2009. They are buried together at South Park Cemetery.

According to Max’s son, the Veteran’s Adm. plaque that marks Max’s grave was made with the wrong date. He actually died on 12 February 1986.

Dow was born 16 February 1915 in Brewersville, Indiana. He married Dorothy Schortemeyer on 29 September 1935. They divorced in 1937. On 18 September 1940, Dow married Lucille Martin. On 10 October 1941, he underwent an appendectomy, and on 15 October 1941, he died of generalized peritonitis. He is buried at South Park Cemetery.

Wilmer was born 1 September 1916 in Indiana, and died in Indianapolis on 1 May 1918. He was buried in Indianapolis, but was later removed to South Park Cemetery in Greensburg.

Don was born 20 June 1919 in Westport, Indiana. On 15 October 1949, he married Sara Jane Springmier. Sara passed away 6 January 1980. Don passed away 1 April 1 1989. They are buried together at South Park Cemetery.

My grandfather, Joe, was born in Burney, Indiana on 29 May 1923. He married Sara Kathryn Buell on 10 December 1947 in Greensburg, Indiana. He worked with his father at the Greensburg Implement Company until the early 1950’s. He operated Layton’s Store for Men from 1960-1966. He worked at Stover Winstead Implements on the south side of Indianapolis in the 1970’s. Sara passed away 23 June 2003. Joe passed away 21 August 2007. They are buried together at South Park Cemetery.

This stone marks the graves of my grandparents.

The Weakness of Men

There are some things about this modern world that I just do not agree with or understand. Tampon commercials, for instance. Not necessary. Also not at all necessary: the never-ending onslaught of male enhancement emails in my spam folder, and erectile dysfunction ads on TV.

For a long time, I assumed humans only had to put up with these things for the last fifty years or so. Perhaps a part of my fascination with history stems from nostalgia for a glorious time in the past when cringe-worthy commercials did not exist.

Well, today I am writing with the sad news that I have been completely wrong in thinking there was such a time. I recently found this ad in a small-town Indiana newspaper from 1897:

Ad from Connersville (Ind.) Times; May 5, 1897

Further inspection of this newspaper revealed that the Erie Medical Company advertised in every single issue. Another ad promoted their “wonderful new medical book written for men only: Complete Manhood and How to Attain It.” Another variation:

“Vigor of men easily, quickly, permanently restored. Weakness, nervousness, debility, and all the train of evils from early errors or later excesses, the results of overwork, sickness, worry, etc. Full strength, development and tone given to every organ and portion of the body. Simple, natural methods. Immediate improvement seen. Failure impossible.”

So it would appear that these ads have pretty much always been around. The difference is that the Federal Trade Commission, regulating deceptive advertising, was not established until 1914, which is why the “Erie Medical Company” could make such ridiculous claims as “failure impossible.”

Another big difference is that, while these ads appeared in smaller type than the rest of the paper, usually near the bottom of the page, these kinds of ads appear today on television during prime time. I have witnessed firsthand how this can cause some serious awkwardness.

During my first year as a reference librarian, a mortified mother came into the library one day and explained to me that her 13-year-old son, who “never wants to talk about anything,” asked her this question while they were watching TV the night before: “What is erectile dysfunction?”

She was too embarrassed to talk about it with him, which is why she found herself standing in the middle of a public library talking about it with a complete stranger.

I get that this is tricky territory for me to tackle, since I am not a parent myself. But I was baffled during my time on the reference desk by the number of moms who asked me for a book to explain sex to their kids. Also baffling was that these moms were so picky about which information they wanted their kids to have.

This particular mother, while flipping through one book, came upon an illustration of a girl inserting a tampon alongside an explanation of menstruation. She immediately shut the book and deemed it inappropriate.

“He doesn’t need to know that,” she said.

It struck me then how nice it would be if 13-year-old boys did know a little bit more about what their female peers were dealing with. Perhaps they would be slightly more understanding of how hard it truly is to be a 13-year-old girl.

The moms I encountered also generally did not want their sex books to discuss contraception and/or protection of any kind. They wanted their kids to understand how to have sex, but not how to be smart about it. The books that usually won out included textbook explanations accompanied by cartoon animals, and very little actual information.

I always got the impression that these moms had no intention of discussing these issues with their children before they were forced to address them because of an uncomfortable, unexpected moment in front of the television. I personally do not remember these kinds of ads being on TV when I was growing up; however, I do remember when an episode of Roseanne prompted me to ask this unfortunate question: “Dad, what’s a period?”

His response: “Ask your sister.”

Luckily, my mom was more prepared. She gave my sister and I a book, So That’s How I Was Born, when we were very young. It did have cartoon illustrations, but they were completely age-appropriate at the time. The book was written by a doctor to make children feel comfortable asking their parents questions.

Not an appropriate book for your teenage son.

That day at the library, after the horrified mother left with a cartoon book for her teenage son, I pictured this boy at the lunch table the next day, or waiting for the bus in the morning, asking his buddy, “Uh, hey, Tommy, do you know what erectile dysfunction is?”

Tommy might know, but if he doesn’t he probably makes something up for fear of looking stupid, or he pulls the classic, “Yeah, don’t you?” which both ends the conversation and makes the kid feel like a total jackass.  The kid’s either going to end up with factual information (highly unlikely), wrong information (quite possible), or no information at all, plus the added bonus of feeling stupid for seeking information in the first place.

Once he’s been shot down by both an adult and a peer, we all know where he will be turning for answers. Yes, the trusty Internet is guaranteed to provide him with plenty of information – and “illustrations” – on this topic.

Too bad mom didn’t just suck it up and answer the question.

Clambake à la midwest

Cookin' up some fine dinin'

Often referred to as “the western equivalent of the clambake,” the milk can dinner started out as a popular way to feed a crowd in the old west. To prepare the meal, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, Polish sausage, onions, and corn on the cob are steamed over an open fire. Once a year, in Hancock County, you can try it for yourself at Tuttle Orchards.

To be honest, before I started serving on the Hancock County Historical Society (HCHS) board a few months ago, I had never heard of such a thing. Phyllis Kingen, who also serves on the board, started the tradition in Hancock County in 2008. She first discovered the recipe in a 1994 Taste of Home magazine, which she still has. (This is a fact; she showed it to me!) Intrigued by the idea, she started preparing the dinners for special gatherings, and when the HCHS was looking for a way to raise funds a few years ago, she suggested they give her specialty a try.

Phyllis Kingen, Mastermind (Photos on this post by Brigette Jones)

“The first year everybody was skeptical,” she said, but the event has brought in over $1000 for the organization for the past three years. Since the dinners began, she has accumulated four milk cans. These can be hard to find, so she takes extra special care of them so we can enjoy this unique event once a year in Hancock County.

L. C. Thayer’s new block

On February 19, 1891, M. C. Quigley ran an ad in the Hancock Democrat for his “New Model Drug Store” in Lee C. Thayer’s New Block. The ad stated that Quigley could be found “with a new and elegant line of drugs, paints, oils, school books, fancy stationery and everything found in a first-class Drug Store.” March 14, 1891 brought the grand opening of L. C. Thayer’s New Dry Goods Store. A new era of Greenfield business had begun!

L. C. Thayer's block. The first floor originally had recessed entrances and awnings.

Today, L. C. Thayer’s building at the corner of East and Main in downtown Greenfield, Indiana is located within the Courthouse Square National Register Historic District. Throughout its 121-year history, it has been home to a wide variety of businesses, including Harry Strickland’s Grocery, H. H. Zike Drug Co., Columbia Barber Shop, and Danner Brothers 5 & 10 Cent Store. It has also provided office space for attorneys, insurance salesmen, a homoeopathist, and the County Trustee.

In 1921, Chiropractor Chas. J. Wagner advertised cheap adjustments producing “a condition of health.” He stated that his Thayer Bldg. office was “equipped to give real health service.” In the late 1920’s, John S. Hill, a Naturopathic Physician, offered electric treatments in Room 17 of the Thayer Bldg. More recently, Morris Inc. occupied the building. The modernized first floor now houses 2nd Seasons, a consignment clothing shop.

The Italianate styling of Thayer’s block is common in buildings constructed between 1850 and 1880 in towns and cities throughout the Midwest. The style is seen less often in the South, where little new construction took place during those years due to the Civil War, Reconstruction, and an economic depression.

The second floor of the Thayer block with new windows. Notice the decorative cornice molding.

This style utilized newly developed cast iron and pressed metal technology, which allowed, for the first time, economical mass production of decorative building features. You can see the use of such features crowning the windows and decorating the roofline of the Thayer building. Before this technology was available, few merchants could afford to decorate their buildings with such elaborate detail in carved stone.

Italianate buildings are usually characterized by wide, projecting cornices and decorative brackets. The Thayer building is atypical of the style because it does not have brackets – but you will see these on many other historic buildings in Greenfield, including Thayer’s own Italianate style home (photo below). The tall, narrow windows of the Thayer building are also a common Italianate feature.

Who was L.C. Thayer?
Lee C. Thayer was born in Massachusetts in the mid-1800’s. He moved to Indiana, where he worked as a railroad engineer. After serving with the 11th Indiana Regiment during the Civil War, he returned to Indiana and began working in the dry goods business. He married Mary Oakes on June 25, 1869, but she passed away a short time later. In 1890, he built the Lee C. Thayer block to house his dry goods store, and on April 10, 1893, he married Iona Williams. Lee and Iona had four children: Lee Carlton Jr., Louise, Nellie, and Florence.

In 1901, Thayer sold his dry goods store to his brother, Hollis, who owned the Spot Cash Department Store located on the same block at 6 E. Main. Hollis combined the two stores under the name Spot Cash, but he died shortly afterwards in 1906, and Lee bought the store back. He operated it until 1911, when he retired and invested in farmland. He died in Greenfield on June 26, 1923, and was buried with a military marker in Park Cemetery.

Lee’s son, Lee Carlton Jr., attended Princeton University. In 1906, he returned to Greenfield, where he went into the dry goods business as well. He married Ora Holmes on November 20, 1911, and they had one daughter, Jane, before he died suddenly of acute gastritis and spinal meningitis on February 10, 1927. He was just 43 years old.

In addition to the commercial building that has housed so many Greenfield businesses in its long history, L. C. Thayer also left downtown Greenfield with a beautiful residential gem. Soon, I hope to explore his stunning Main Street home.

L. C. Thayer's Main Street home