Mental health, its funding mechanisms, delivery, methods, and treatments are always a critical component of public health policy. Although I was tempted to use this piece here as a commentary of sorts, it’s really not necessary, although I suppose one  could view these photos as a metaphor for the state of health care in this country. They've made an indelible impression on my psyche, that's for sure.

  Jump below the fold for a glimpse into a forgotten place, one of a rather dismal era in mental health care.

The abandoned Hudson River State Hospital (originally called Hudson River State Hospital for the Insane), which I visited recently, is more or less right on the Hudson, in Poughkeepsie, NY. The 160 acre campus was first built in the late 1800's. The plan was known as a Kirkbride system, an institutional plan developed by Dr. Thomas Story Kirkbride:

Once state-of-the-art mental healthcare facilities, Kirkbride buildings have long been relics of an obsolete therapeutic method known as Moral Treatment. In the latter half of the 19th century, these massive structures were conceived as ideal sanctuaries for the mentally ill and as an active participant in their recovery. Careful attention was given to every detail of their design to promote a healthy environment and convey a sense of respectable decorum. Placed in secluded areas within expansive grounds, many of these insane asylums seemed almost palace-like from the outside. But growing populations and insufficient funding led to unfortunate conditions, spoiling their idealistic promise.  

Within decades of their first conception, new treatment methods and hospital design concepts emerged and the Kirkbride plan was eventually discarded. Many existing Kirkbride buildings maintained a central place in the institutions which began within their walls, but by the end of the 20th century most had been completely abandoned or demolished. A few have managed to survive into the 21st century intact and still in use, but many that survive sit abandoned and decaying—their mysterious grandeur intensified by their derelict condition.

 

The northern part of the campus houses the Kirkbride setup, with this gothic, massive structure as its centerpiece:

 

Inside the main building, which at one time housed some patients. It became primarily an administrative center, and had labs and quarters in its earlier years:  

 

 

The main building was flanked by a male and female ward. In most Kirks, the wards are symmetrical, but at Hudson, the male ward was much bigger, due to both financial considerations and many more male inmates. The wards were more or less empty by the late 70's, and the main building was active until the nineties.

The male ward was completely gutted by fire in 2007. This was taken from the roof of the main building:

 

The female ward, is still standing. However, it is in an advanced state of decay:  

 

 

As we explored these ruins, I cannot even begin to describe the intensity of it all. Aside from the obvious heightened senses due to the darkness and avoiding the obvious structural perils, the mind wanders. You know all those cliched "abandoned mental hospital" stories? This is exactly what they were about. As I looked in the various rooms, such as the one below, I could envision the sadness and torment that was so prevalent in this institution, which once housed over 6,000 patients.

 

There are also many buildings behind the main one. There were maintenance buildings, staff quarters and residences, a massive power plant and several churches. There was lots of farmland, as well, as it played a critical role in Kirkbride's "Moral Therapy'.  

You can view the entire slideshow of the Kirkbride here.  

South of the Kirkbride is a cluster of more modern buildings, such as the ominous, ten-story Cheney Building (no, it's not named after Dick, but it would've been appropriate). It was built in the mid-50's:  

 

This was not a nice place. Lacking any of the human touches of the Kirkbride, this was basically a big box filled with lots of little boxes to store people in. It was abandoned in 2000. Good riddance.

 

 

It's amazing what happens when a building is left to the elements. Paint peels. Things collapse. Windows break. There are plenty of signs of humanity, just one that is out of order. It almost has a post-apocalyptic feel to it at times. For example, in the women’s ward’s industrial kitchen, there were dozens of massive kettles, food warmers and trays strewn about. Wheelchairs and beds everywhere. Abandoned typewriters and computers, you name it. There were literally thousands of x-rays in this room:  

 

You can view the complete slideshow of the Cheney Building, as well as the Snow Rehab Center here.  

All in all, aside from an intense mental and physical workout, this visit most certainly gave me something that will stay with me a very long time. If I believed in the paranormal, it would've undoubtedly been thrilling on that level, too. But reality here is creepy enough as it is. It's also an archaeology of sorts, one that reminds us that, even though there is still work to be done, we have come a long way in terms of the treatment of mental illness in this country, not to mention the importance of preserving our historic architecture.  

There are very few Kirkbrides left in the country, and we are losing one or two every year.There are plans for the Kirkbride here to be preserved, but its future is far from certain. For a great site filled with many amazing pics of the different Kirkbrides,as well as lots of historical bckground, have a look at Kirkbride Buildings.  

For more info on HRSH, please visit Historic 51, which has a timeline, history, and a virtual museum, with lots of photos from back in the day.