While the St. Louis State Hospital dome has loomed over the St. Louis skyline for 150 years, the goings-on behind the closed doors of this mysterious complex of South City buildings has been the subject of speculation and curiosity for generations. This fascinating book takes readers beyond the gates on Arsenal and into an institution's unique history. It was through those gates in 1869 that 127 patients suffering from mental illnesses would pass to seek recovery through compassionate care. This richly illustrated volume presents their stories through a timeline of the hospital's history and gives an understanding of what life was like for these vulnerable, often poor and disenfranchised patients. Included are photos and anecdotes of weekly dances in the fifth-floor ballroom, card game parties, and long walks to newly opened Tower Grove Park. Straight from the carefully curated archives are the records of traditional lobotomies, experimental drug therapies, and electric shock"š€š"all prevalent treatments of their time. Author Amanda Hunyar takes readers behind the scenes and through the history of the iconic building with a complex tale to tell. Once the third largest hospital in St. Louis, and a place of healing and hope for thousands, its stories from generations past are finally ready to be shared. Even those with merely a passing understanding of its buildings can now come to appreciate its importance in the history of our region.

"Traces the history of Missouri's first state mental institution, the Fulton State Hospital, founded in 1851. This institutional history examines a century and a half of changing attitudes toward mental illness, evolving treatments as medical and psychiatric science sought cures and the continuing administrative challenges of overcrowding and chronic underfunding"--Provided by publisher.

Deeds's subtle, meticulous, and wildly imaginative pencil and crayon drawings portray an unusual cast of characters: nineteenth-century dandies, Civil War soldiers, antique cars, fantastic boats and trains, country landscapes dotted with roaming animals, and fanciful architecture. None of these existed in the actual mid-twentieth-century landscape of Deeds's own life, but rather were representations of his inner world—an artist's poignant tribute to a faded past. Deeds lovingly bound his artwork in a cardboard and leather portfolio, a present for his mother. After being accidentally discarded in 1970, the album was rescued from the trash by a young boy and, thirty-six years later, came into the hands of artist and collector Harris Diamant, who provides the book's foreword. The Electric Pencil features all 283 of Deeds's arresting drawings—now avidly collected—done on ledger sheets from State Hospital No. 3 in Nevada, Missouri, and reproduced in the sequence of the original album. The Electric Pencil introduces readers to an astonishing record of one man's unwavering artistic vision in the face of the most inhospitable conditions.

Northern Michigan Asylum, which opened in 1885, was known during most of its years as Traverse City State Hospital. More than 200 photographs and images are provided, including many of the features and buildings long gone. It was run during its first decades by Dr. James Decker Munson, who left his legacy in the landscaped grounds and the medical center that today bears his name. Traverse City State Hospital served the mental health needs of a large part of Michigan for 104 years until its closure in 1989, housing a population as large as 3,000 in its many buildings.This book traces the history of this great institution, from the local and mental health context in which it was founded, through its growth, development, and decline, and finally to its renovation and preservation as a vital part of the Traverse City community.

Moral treatment, the vogue of early American psychology, freed the mentally ill of their chains. They were, however, still relegated to separate institutions, commonly called asylums, for at least a brief respite from the stressors that were thought to cause their madness. Did it work? Were the patients actually treated more humanely? The Untold History of the First Illinois State Hospital for the Insane tells the stories of the people who were subjected to this new treatment on the American Frontier. As author Dr. Joe Squillace shows, the institution first had great difficulty in getting established, but the town of Jacksonville, Illinois, where the Hospital was built, rallied to make it a more humane and person-centered institution. The Hospital's leaders, too, attempted, within the constraints of their time, to treat their patients with respect. But, at a time when mental illness was still not well understood some patients were tortured and imprisoned, even though they were not insane, even by 19th century standards. What is revealed in Untold History is an institution that struggled, much like today's institutions do, to address the needs of those living with mental illness, in a culture that did not understand it fully.Dr. Squillace traces the history of the institution from its origins in the 1840s to the 1930s, outlining the various treatments administered at the institution. The book demonstrates that the institution was deeply embedded in the larger community, rife with tangled and notorious Illinois politics. Sadly, many unknown and forgotten people were buried unceremoniously in potter's fields after dark. Macabre stories ensue. The Untold History of the First Illinois State Hospital for the Insane provides a tangible connection to a rural Illinois county's struggle with treating mental illness as the medical community's understanding of it developed throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries.

The Toledo State Hospital opened in 1888, and its design and healing approach were revolutionary for the time. First in the country built entirely on the "cottage model," its plan was intended to create a homelike atmosphere in a beautifully manicured landscape. Treatment methods were based on the "moral treatment" philosophy, the belief that calming surroundings with nutritious food, productive work, and diversion would help the disturbed mind to heal. Over the years, facilities were expanded to serve a burgeoning patient population, and medications and treatments evolved. In the 1950s, however, the population began a steady decline due to the advent of services in the community and to advances in psychotropic drugs. As the old buildings were emptied, they were demolished, and all were gone by 1981.