Preface

The year of 1911 is marked with notable triumph and tragedy in American history. Eugene Burton Ely became the first naval aviator to successfully take off and land on a ship at sea. Roaring fires claimed hundreds of lives in both New York City and Bangor, Maine. The United States Army officially adopted the M1911 pistol as its standard-issue sidearm. The very first Indianapolis 500-mile race was run. But on July 10th something that began life as a modern achievement would quickly turn into a residence for true evil. Letchworth Village was born and open for business.

Named for William Pryor Letchworth and nestled in the town of Haverstraw just forty miles north of Manhattan, the enormous 2,362-acre compound resides. The dense surrounding vegetation served as a mask to what the public believed as a new life and hope for its patients of all ages. While the external architecture and location of the psychiatric hospital presented the public with awe-inspiring beauty and charm, the individuals roaming its halls had an alternate reality. The institute that was to be a humane salvation for the mentally ill and physically disabled ended up harboring some of the worst cruelty, torture, violence, and despair.

At the peak of the hospital’s operation, the grounds consisted of 130 buildings, most of them dormitories. Underfunded and understaffed, many of the patients were children without proper bedding and spent the majority of their time naked and littering the hallways and bathrooms, laying in their own feces. Many patients were misdiagnosed and were often fed their medicine and meals with the same spoon. The process sometimes led to asphyxiation and eventually leading to their death.

The general helplessness of the patients primarily resulted in neglect and malnutrition, but something much worse waited for the even less fortunate. Rapes and murders had also become a part of the hospital’s tenure. Some of the staff were participants of these vile acts, but without a proper staff for observation, the other patients had the freedom to act out in this manner as well. The continued physical abuse offered little hope to those in need, and those whose bodies could no longer endure, if not claimed by their families, were buried in the nearby cemetery without a name, and only a number.

The 1950s saw a peak in inhabitants, with over 4,000 patients and continued shortages of funding and staff. The decade had also brought a new method of cruelty to the grounds, human experimentation. The experimental polio vaccine was reported to be involuntarily tested on an eight-year-old boy. When the first child showed no side effects, the vaccine was further tested on an additional 19 children. While the vaccine was ultimately a success, the trials and conduct of the medical professionals set the hospital’s reputation even lower.

The years moved onward, and the sour conditions became the norm. It wasn’t until 1965 when Senator Robert F. Kennedy visited the facilities that the public would become aware of the critical and vile ongoings of the psychiatric hospital. Kennedy became outraged at the sight, calling the institution a “Snake Pit”. He wasn’t able to capture photographs during his visit, but the horrific sight had enraged him enough to call for support. The pleas for additional funding and more staff fell mostly on deaf ears in both the political and public world, and ultimately led to less funding for all state hospitals.

It wasn’t until 1972 when Geraldo Rivera of ABC News made the public fully aware of the conditions. Using his investigative intuition, he made sure to arrive two hours ahead of his scheduled plan in order to avoid any potential coverup by the staff. The scene horrified him as he visited hospitals beyond Letchworth for his investigation. His report called “The Last Great Disgrace” caused mass public outcry, and the politicians could no longer suppress the happenings of many of its state-run institutions. Even with the spotlight, there were no immediate actions taken. The help that they desperately needed would have to wait a few years longer.

In 1978 the Mental Health Advocacy Act was passed by the Senate. This finally allowed significantly more funding for hospitals across the country to tackle overcrowding, modernization of medicine, as well as provide group homes with better living conditions. The progress was slow, but nevertheless it was a movement toward the right direction. In subsequent years, particularly in the 1980s and 1990s, the overcrowding had finally tapered off although this was partially due to the attrition of old age. Still, help continued to arrive in the hope that what was once a pocket of hell in the beautiful countryside could finally bloom into what it was originally meant to be. A facility where patients are treated humanely with dignity, respect, and proper medical care.

When Letchworth Village finally closed in 1996, many of the former staff did not rise to the call to share their experiences with the public. Whether it was from personal preference, traumatic exposure or something more sinister, it cannot be assumed in order to separate those who are genuine in their heart. The facilities that once housed the patients are now left to decay with overgrowth consuming the buildings. The site has now become a place for amateur sightseers, ghost hunters, and documentaries.

Formerly just a marked number at a burial site, a monument was erected in 2007 to memorialize those who lost their lives at the hospital. Over 900 names belonging to the unclaimed patients’ bodies are permanently inscribed onto the plaque embedded into the stone at Letchworth Village Cemetery; above them all are the words “Those Who Shall Not Be Forgotten”.

The information that you have just read is well documented and I encourage those with a sympathetic mind to take note and perhaps look more into this history. Letchworth Village was one institution of many with similar problems caused by a leadership that only cared for themselves, with only a few courageous enough to actually attempt to make a difference. How this research pertains to the story will be unveiled in the following chapters, but my heart goes out to those who are noble and those who have needlessly suffered.