Would You Like A Donut Honey?

The Bartonville State Hospital or ……The

Illinois Asylum Of The Incurable Insane, was a psychiatric hospital operated by the State of Illinois from 1902 to 1973. My parents used tell stories of families having picnics on the lawn of this gothic and mysterious establishment. Like many of my Limestone High School classmates, I learned about The State Hospital and the practices and writings of its Superintendent, George Zeller through our Sociology Teacher, Mr. Gordan Wassell.

Back when the days were psychedelic, I did my home work in THE ORANGE ROOM. The ORANGE ROOM was my bedroom in my parents home in Bartonville. I was given free rein to paint and design it in any way I chose. So, I decided to paint my room burnt orange and include yellow shag carpet. One wall completely covered in cork. The furniture was black with orange and yellow drawers and I slept in a black vinyl hide away bed. In this room, I played guitar, listened to music, read books, entertained girlfriends and as I stated earlier, did my homework.

The Homework from Mr. Wassell's class never seemed a chore as it was quite interesting to a 17 year old. We talked of death and dying, current events, and a myriad of subjects that included The State Hospital and its history. Many of us either lived by the looming iconic Bowen building and it's surrounding structures or road their bicycles past the property often. It had been closed since 1973 but there were two occasions where I experienced the hospital first hand.

It was around 1970, and our family watched the usual amount of nightly television. One night at dinner, I asked my Dad to pass the ketchup but instead of my own voice, I requested the tomato condiment in the voice of our former President, Lyndon Baines Johnson! I was just being funny when I confidently spoke, " my fellow Americans, I come to you tonight with a heavy heart....but can you please pass me the ketchup?" The table became still...and even my brothers were looking at me suspiciously. My families faces seemed to say, "Who are you and what have you done with our son/brother?" Then they asked me to say it again. What they didn't know was that I had an ear for mimicking many voices!!! I could do our current President, Richard Nixon, Dean Martin, John Wayne, Jack Benny, Flip Wilson's Geraldine, Edward G Robinson and a dozen more. Before long, My Mom had fitted me with props and wrote a script with all the dialogue for me to use since I didn't know much about these characters except for what I'd seen on TV. Soon, I was performing social entertainment dates for Caterpillar Tractor, courtesy of my Grandmother, The Fields Motel in Morton, church gatherings and eventually I entered and won the Variety show at Monroe Grade School that year. I wish there were video cameras back then. But the last engagement of my impersonation tour was a show book for the patients of the Bartonville Hospital.

Now, I had heard that this was a hospital for the mentally insane from my friends but my Mom said that wasn't necessarily true. Oh, Just a few of them? Either way, I was nervous as I sat in my Mothers car at the gate of that intimidating complex. It was nighttime and the sky was illuminated with the occasional streak of silver lightning. I could see the lights shining out of the windows of the Bowen Building and the minutes ticked by. Each clap of thunder punctuated the fear that was building inside of me. After about 20 minutes, I began asking my Mom if I really needed to keep this engagement. I'm not sure why we waited outside, perhaps that was the agreement but no one came and I decided my career as a 'vaudeville' performer was coming to an end. We drove away into the dark rainy night leaving the gate and the hospital behind us. But this was not the first time that the Old Mental Hospital had caused me concern.

The first time I can recall the Bartonville State Hospital was when I was about 4 or 5 years old. In fact, it's one of the very first vivid memories of my life. It seems my Dad had taken me with him to visit a friend who was staying in the hospital at the time. He was an alcoholic and was receiving treatment there. I remember it being a sunny day and my Dad leaving me in the car parked out on the street on the side of the large Bowen Building. I don't remember him leaving or saying goodbye but I do remember being told never to talk with strangers. The memory really begins with me being in the front seat and having to pee. I seem to remember having a checked shirt on and by trusty Teddy Bear which never left my side back then. After what seemed like hours, I couldn't help myself, I had no other choice but to open the side door of the car and explore the hospital grounds or pee my corduroy pants.

I seem to remember clutching my Teddy Bear and feeling as though I were on a strange planet. I needed help but I had no idea where to look for a bathroom or an adult.... I just kept looking for my Dad. I rounded several large bushes before spotting a porch that led into a building. Perhaps that's where my Dad was. I began climbing the stairs trying my best to hold my pee. Once I got to the door, I was approached by a woman all dressed in white. She had black hair and had a small white cap on her head. She seemed nice and was very concerned about me. " Where are you going sweetie?" "Are you looking for someone?" " My Dad '" I said. “I have to pee.” Even though I knew not to speak with strangers, I followed the women in white through a large room of people and finally into a vacant bathroom. She let me go by myself and I thanked her as I opened the door.

"Would you like a donut honey?" she asked holding a box of them in front of my face. I replied that I wasn't supposed to speak to strangers. So, with my Teddy bear in hand, I walked out the front door, down the wooden stairs and began retracing my footsteps back to the car. Just like a story from a children's book, I somehow followed my "breadcrumbs" around the big bushes and across the large grassy area until I spotted what looked like my Dad's big shiny car. I got back inside and waited, feeling much better now that I had used the bathroom.

My Dad finally came back to the car after his visit and I explained my tale to him about the donut lady and my leisurely walk around the Mental Institution. He took the story a-lot better than my Mom after arriving home.

There would be other visits the Hospital when I got older. Like the time my friend and I visited the morgue, laid on the gurneys and closed each other in the box where they kept the hospital’s DEAD!!!! But that's a tale for another time. Back when Days Were Psychedelic.