Every so often one may find themselves
in a place where the environment itself has been deeply affected by
the history which it endured. Even the trees here seemed altered,
different from those in the forest just beyond the old boundary fence
- It was as if they whispered among themselves, recounting secrets
just beyond the edge of human hearing.
Pitted metal bars
framed countless windows that overlooked the decayed grounds of the
long-abandoned asylum. Upon our visit, this old campus was little
more than a gathering of sad and rotten buildings, but if one were to
have peered out those same windows some seventy years earlier, they
would have seen a massive city operating unto itself, with a populace
in the thousands. That was long ago though, and the patients who once
lived here have long moved on. Little remained, save for shadows - an
ever-present substance that came to dwell in each corner and corridor
of the former Norwich State Hospital for the Insane.
This
campus opened its doors in the towns of Preston and Norwich,
Connecticut, in the autumn of 1904. At the time the initial patient
count at the facility was under 100. However, not unlike numerous
institutions of its day, the patient population at the hospital grew
exponentially, and by 1930 the Norwich Hospital had stretched itself
out from a single hospital center to a campus of over twenty
buildings.
After peaking in population through the 1950s and
60s, the residents of the campus began to steadily decrease. This
depopulation was due to various factors, but was driven primarily by
advancements in psychiatric medications, and the increasing taboo
which the nation was feeling toward larger state mental hospitals.
During this time the facility began constructing new, modern,
buildings on a plot adjacent to where the original hospital center
stood. Every time a new building was opened, a building from the old
campus would be closed down. By the 1970s only a handful of original
buildings were in active use. When the Norwich Hospital finally
shuttered in 1996 only two of the original campus buildings were
still in use, and the remainders of the old campus were already
falling into disrepair.
It was the beautiful architecture of
the old asylum campus that drew us to this property, and it is
exclusively these buildings that we documented during our visit.
Though the newer campus certainly has its own tales to tell, we felt
those modern buildings lacked the level of character and history
which was found on the original hospital grounds. Sadly, if you visit
the property today you will find little more than a grassy field
where the historic asylum once stood. Demolition began on the
property in 2011, and over several years, every building on the old
campus was razed with the exception of administration, which is
currently mothballed to be utilized in the future development of the
grounds, whatever and whenever they may be.
A
wheelchair looks outward from the second floor of an enclosed porch.
A view from which it may well have watched the rise and fall of the
hospital, now overgrown and mostly forgotten.
A carpet of moss.
A
ward rotsaway.
Even after decades of disuse, discolored linens remained on several
of the beds.
Over
time, radio and television became utilized less to entertain patients
and more to distract and pacify, especially during times of
overcrowding and under-staffing, which came to plague institutions
such as Norwich.
At
least one piano can be found in nearly every abandoned mental
institution, often left behind when institutions close down simply
because of the difficulty of removing it. When abandoned along with
the buildings, they become significant relics, in no small part due
to the role that music played in patient therapy, as well as the
daily life on a ward. In just a few years’ time, the pianos become
ruined by humidity and temperature, reduced to sad reminders of times
gone by.
A
patient activity board stands against a wall in a common room. Most
of the activity notes have long been lost to the ages, but some
remain, such as “supper” from 5–6 p.m. and “evening news”
from 6–7 p.m. Faint glimpses at the daily lives of those who were
here before us.
Though
surely a trying environment at many times for both patients and
staff, it was also clear from items left behind that the hospital did
attempt to do right by those they were tasked with caring for. Here
we find a large wooden box, decorated to look as a brick chimney
topped with snow. On the side reads “Christmas Gifts for patients.
Norwich Hospital.” The old campus, though troubled, surely must
have been a sight during the holiday season.
While
wandering the many halls and wards of Norwich
it was easy to become distracted, to begin to forget just why you were here, and the people who called
these chambers home before it all fell to ruin. This never lasted long though, as the hospital was quick with reminders.
Here
you can see the admin building with new windows
and a sealed lower floor. Hopefully, when the site is eventually
redeveloped, the preserved admin building may serve to help tell the
story of what once stood on these grounds.
This is an older video of ours, filmed in 2011. When viewing, you may notice that it has a different feel to it than our current-day films. This is because the style of our cinematography has progressed over time, and our equipment has changed and improved throughout the years. We have chosen to leave our older videos available for viewing online to illustrate the evolution of our work, and to showcase locations which are otherwise unable to be seen.