âFor their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitterâŠâ âDeuteronomy 32:32
At the age of sixteen I was committed to the Pontiac State Hospital in Pontiac, Michigan. It was the most traumatic experience of my life. I experienced horrific forced shock treatments in a freezing cold, ancient building that was falling apart around me. Itâs no wonder the hospital eventually lost accreditation and had to closeâof course, that was decades after what they did to me there.
I have a lot more to say about my experiences at Pontiac. But you might wonder, âMore about Pontiac? Why? You were there over 60 years ago. Why not just forget about it?â
It all goes back to when I first got out of the state hospital. I had terrifying thoughts and dreams, and I was trying to cope with them and my memory, learning, and speech and other problems by myself. I desperately wanted someone to help me and do something about Pontiac, but no one would even listen to what I had to say. It felt as if they were telling me I didnât count. I was angry, very angry, and I never got over the hurt. Not a day of my life has gone by since without my thinking about Pontiac and the way I was treated. If nobody else was going to do anything about it, I was! Inspired by Elie Wiesel, the Holocaust survivor who wrote about the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps, I decided to write about Pontiac.
I sat on the idea for a long time before I tried to write anything. My first attempt didnât turn out very well. A friend suggested the online UCLA writerâs program. I began in 2007 and obtained my Certificate of Completion in 2010. Iâd retired the year before, and now I had time to write about Pontiac. Several years on I attended a lecture at the local Hilton hotel given by Robert Whitaker, author of Mad in America and founder of the website by the same name. I posted my first publication on my state hospital experiences there, Committed at 16: Memories of a State Hospital, in 2020.
Those responding to my article were very supportive, yet I didnât know how many were willing to believe what I said without knowing more. I also wondered myself how much of what I remembered about Pontiac was true after so many years. As best I could, I tried to verify what I wrote by means of The Detroit Free Press archive and other reputable sources.
The Dangerous Conditions inside the Building
Pontiac was built in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and many of its problems stemmed from its age and poor condition. It was first opened as the Eastern Michigan Asylum in 1878. The name was changed to the Pontiac State Hospital in 1911, and it became the Clinton Valley Center in 1973. At the time I was there in 1960, the original building was still being used and held around 3,000 patients.
This is how I described what it was like inside in my first article: âIt was January when I came in, and the bedrooms had little heat and smelled awful⊠Most of the day, I had to sit on a hard wooden chair [doing nothing] in a large room with maybe twenty or more others. The chairs were lined up beneath windows on three sides of the room. [There was] more heat than the bedrooms, but it was cold next to the windows⊠I had to have permission to use the bathroom, half [or more of] the toilets were clogged up, and the doors on the stalls were missing.â
Sounds almost unbelievable, right? Conditions so brutal they were practically torture? I sometimes wondered if I was misremembering. Certainly, plenty of people didnât believe how bad it was.
But now I have corroborating evidence. It truly was that bad. Maybe it was even worse.
Hereâs how Boyce Rensberger described the conditions in The Detroit Free Press (âA Look Inside the Hospital: The Heart Rendering Things We Found,â Feb. 2, 1969): âAt Pontiac State Hospital men, women, and children live in a 90-year-old building with no electric light in bedrooms. What little heat there is comes from hallways and floats near the ceiling of rooms that are taller than they are wide⊠At Pontiac, the dingy walls have not been painted in years⊠In many patient rooms, plaster is cracked and in several⊠whole square yards have crashed to the floor. Such deplorable conditions would be bad enough for healthy people but in a state institution these deplorable conditions are home and hospital to sick persons who already feel rejected by society⊠[I]f the state fire marshal was to enforce the law⊠[Pontiac would] need at least $20 million immediately for new construction.â
Malnutrition
In 2020 I wrote, âThe food [at Pontiac] ranged from unappetizing to plain unhealthy. There was too much pulp in the orange juice for me, and a lot of times the fruit looked just plain rotten. For dinner they might have a fatty piece of meat in a gooey sauce. Maybe thereâd be a part I could eat, but the rest had too much fat for me to chew. By the time I went home, Iâd lost considerable weight and had big holes [i.e., recession] in my gums. My dentist told me it was due to vitamin C deficiency, and I would lose my teeth if it went on. I also was buying a lot of candy and ice cream [at the hospital] canteen with money my mother sent, which led to no end of cavities. A lot of times, it was eat that or go hungry.â
My dentist told me I had scurvy, the only case heâd ever seen in his years of practice. Itâs best known as a disease of sailors centuries ago who went on lengthy voyages without access to fresh fruit. But after I started taking mega-doses of Vitamin C, my gums grew back. I also had to make weekly trips to the dentist to fill all the cavities I had.
Shock Treatments
I was at Pontiac for only a short time when they made me have shock treatments (AKA: electroconvulsive therapy, ECT, electroshock, or, simply, shock). The treatments always began with a heavy male nurse giving me a shot of scopolamine in the butt to prevent me choking on my saliva or vomiting during the procedure. Then, he had me put on a loose-fitting hospital gown, had me wait in an unheated bedroom (it was winter!) where others were waiting, and locked the door. I couldnât help shaking from the cold and thinking about what horrible thing was going to happen next!
It wasnât long before the door opened again, and the male nurse started calling us out into the hall, one-by-one. Each time, I started to panic, thinking it would be me. Sometimes I heard loud screaming in the hall, and suddenly it would stop. I wondered just what was going on. Once or twice, somebody refused to go, and two big men came in and carried them out screaming. Finally, it was my turn, and I went out in the hallway. There was a stretcher with a white sheet and pillow, and people were standing around it.
As I described in 2020:
âI had to lie down on a stretcher, and then the doctor would wrap a tourniquet around my arm and have me make a fist. Then he injected me with something and released the tourniquet. In seconds, I couldnât breathe. It was so terrifying and painful it goes beyond words to describe! ⊠Later, I found out the doctor must have injected me with a muscle relaxant (e.g., succinylcholine chloride, known as Quelicin or Anectine) without putting me to sleep first. A muscle relaxant is used to paralyze muscles, including those that pump the lungs. Putting a strong electrical current through someoneâs head causes a convulsion of the entire body, and without the muscle relaxant could break bones.â
Nobody I talked to afterwards would believe somebody would do this to me! Years later, I came across it in Peter Breggin, M.D.âs book, Electroshock: Its Brain-Disabling Effects (1979, Pp. 167-8): ââŠA particularly terrifying ECT technique is the administration of modified ECT without prior sedation to render the patient unconscious. If the patient is not unconscious at the time of the injection of the neuromuscular blocking agent, he remains awake while unable to move a muscle or to breathe immediately before being knocked out by the electric current⊠I have come across two cases in which patients⊠were given ECT without first rendering them unconscious. One of my patients died⊠The other patientâŠvividly recalled a horrible sensation of suffocating or drowning just before losing consciousness during ECT.â
Brain Damage
I complained about shock treatments and brain damage so much to my therapist, he sent away for my records from Pontiac to see what they said. They didnât say anything about shock treatments being given to me in any unusual ways, but they did say I had between 20-30 bilateral ECTsâa high number of the most damaging kind!
Here is how I described what happened afterwards in my first article: â[For a long time I] had to struggle to find the words to say simple things. What came out wasnât always what I wanted, but something that rhymed or was similar in some way. Likewise, I had a hard time finding words when I was working on school papers, and a lot of trouble with spelling, punctuation, and grammar⊠With some effort Iâd been an âAâ and âBâ student at my high school before I was placed in the state hospital, but after I eventually returned I had to struggle to get âBâsâ and âCâs.â A big chunk of my past learning was lost, and it was much harder to learn new things.â
Many years later, I learned that there is a word for this: aphasia.
The Grip of Terror!
When I returned to my high school after being at Pontiac, I couldnât stop the painful thoughts about Pontiac and shock treatments that kept coming into my head. I had trouble concentrating on what was going on in class and doing my homework. At times it was so intense Iâd walk into a busy street without paying attention to what was going on. Sometimes people walking by saved me just in the nick of time, or else drivers stopped just before they hit me. I also had trouble going to sleep and terrifying dreams at night. Things were so bad for a time, I thought Iâd end up committing suicide. Even nowâover sixty years onâI still have daily thoughts about Pontiac and nightmares about being lost and someone making me feel like dirt that remind me of how I felt back there.
Was this a new mental disorder or more of the same? When I was having so many terrifying thoughts and dreams, there wasnât a specific psychiatric diagnosis for it.  Then, whatever problems I had the state hospital would say were âschizophrenia.â Now, it probably would be diagnosed as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), which is defined in the DSM-5 as happening after âexposure to actual or threatened death.â It is described as involving recurrent, involuntary, and intrusive recollections of the event ⊠intrusive, vivid, sensory, and emotional components, that are distressing⊠[and] distressing dreams that replay the event itself or that are representative or thematically related to the major threats involved in the traumatic event.â
Pontiac Loses Accreditation; Forced to Close!
I thought there was so much wrong with Pontiac, it should be closed immediately. But at the time I was there that was like banging your head against the wall. Â It wasnât until 19 years later that it lost its accreditation and 18 years after that it finally closed. How did it survive so long and what brought it down?
According to Gerald H. Smith, D.P.A. (âThe Rise and Decline of Mental Health Hospitals in the State of Michigan,â doctoral dissertation, Western Michigan University, 1992): âLimited financial resources, a defensive administrative approach to problem solving, accusations of insensitivity, and the like, have been major drawbacks⊠[T]he mental health bureaucracy deserved much of the blame for problems.â
Boyce Rensberger, writing for The Detroit Free Press (âPenny Pinching Hamper Mental Health Programs,â Feb. 4, 1969), wrote that âfew citizens and legislators really care whether the mentally afflicted get decent care and treatment. Even fewer understand the nature of the problem⊠[T]he popular conception of mental illness is still one of incurability. Legislators tend to reflect this attitude in their appropriations for the state hospitals.â
So, what did a committee of state legislators find out when they suddenly showed up at Pontiac after so many years of their hands-off?
âA group of state legislators Friday made a surprise inspection of the large state mental hospital in Pontiac and found encrusted dirt in the wards, a lack of proper treatment programs, staff shortages, and what appeared to be excessive use of sedativesâŠDr. Robert Braun, representing the hospital administration, did not dispute most of the legislatorâs findings.â (Kirk Cheyfitz, âLegislators Find Filth at Hospital,â The Detroit Free Press, Feb. 7, 1976).
The legislators were followed a few years later by the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Hospitals (JCAH). âThe state-run Clinton Valley Center [Pontiac was renamed The Clinton Valley Center in 1973] has lost accreditation⊠Clinton Valley director Anthony Drabki said the institution will not appeal the Commissionâs Actions. [He] said the state legislature will have to provide money to make the extensive improvements called for⊠The Commission found the center had too few pharmacists, trained nurses, and vocational rehabilitation programs⊠Patients in wards found doing nothing or pacing the wards⊠In addition, the Commission found the center did not meet fire and electrical safety standards.â (Staff Writers, âClinton Valley Adult Center Loses its Accreditation,â The Detroit Free Press, Aug. 31, 1979).
â[Michigan] Governor Milliken has recommended increasing next yearâs mental health budget by $9 million to prevent the closing of the Clinton Valley Center and two other state care centers…[Patrick] Babcock [Director of the Department of Mental Health], said state hospitals and other care center are now operating âfar below acceptable care levelsâŠâ Babcock said he recommended closing theâŠfacilities to prevent care levels from dropping even furtherâŠâ (Patricia Chargot and Martin F. Kohn, âAid Sought for Mental Care Centers,â The Detroit Free Press, Aug. 18, 1982).
Clinton Valley never received the funding from the state it needed to upgrade its facility and programs to meet Joint Commission standards. In addition, it lost its eligibility for Medicaid, Medicare, federal grants, and private insurance when it lost its accreditation. After a protracted battle to stay open, it was forced to close in 1997 and was demolished in 2000.
Too Little Justice, Too Late
After seeing what The Detroit Free Press and the other sources had to say, I am encouraged that my recollections of Pontiac were substantially correct. Its loss of accreditation made clear that the care provided by Pontiac/Clinton Valley was substandard. I would certainly agree with this from my own experiences. The newspaper articles I quoted donât confirm many of the details of my story, but I think they show that Pontiac was a place where these kinds of things could happen. There are those who would try to deny, minimize, or justify the unjustifiable, but I feel stronger in what I believe about Pontiac than ever.
The Detroit Free Press did an excellent job in bringing to light the conditions at Pontiac, its loss of accreditation, and closing. I thought it made a big mistake, though, by not investigating the violence at the hospital. Iâm sure it was there! I experienced it myself, and I saw others being beaten and humiliated. (Detroitâs other major newspaper, The Detroit News, didnât have an online archive for the years I was interested in.)
As things now stand, it looks like so many got away with so much, and patients and families were left to cope on their own with the harm Pontiac did. Those working there clearly reneged on their professional responsibilities and ethical obligations. In cases involving assault on patients, they also broke the law.
Can Pontiac ever be held accountable? The statute of limitations for bringing criminal charges or a lawsuit to seek damages would have expired for many or most who were there. But it is still not too late to contact former patients and find out what they have to say about the hospital and the care they received. Iâd also include anyone whoâd been a patient at Michiganâs other publicly funded mental hospitals. Hopefully, it would help bring closure on the harm done to patients and their families, provide more information about the history of Michiganâs publicly funded mental hospitals, and give warning to those seeking to solve todayâs problems by the large-scale re-institutionalization of the mentally ill. Other states doubtlessly had similar problems in their public mental health system, and they would be interested as well.
Perhaps President John F. Kennedy said it best at the signing of the Community Mental Health Act in 1963: “I believe that the abandonment of the mentally ill and the mentally retarded to the grim mercy of custodial institutions too often inflicts on them and on their families a needless cruelty which this Nation should not endure.”
So important to save and report as they are thinking of reinstitionalizing people.
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I have witnessed two State Hospital betrayal here in Texas..
Richmond & Austin State Hospital,
also, Corpus Christi Texas
The fight club National News
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Thank you for sharing your story, Micheal.
And I agree, “Perhaps President John F. Kennedy said it best at the signing of the Community Mental Health Act in 1963: ‘I believe that the abandonment of the mentally ill and the mentally retarded to the grim mercy of custodial institutions too often inflicts on them and on their families a needless cruelty which this Nation should not endure.'”
Especially since JFK’s own family did this to women in their own family. Destroying the paternalistic “dirty little secret of the two original educated professions” is a difficult thing to do.
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Thank you for bravely sharing the deplorable conditions you experienced whilst institutionalized. I am so sorry you endured that.
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I served a thirty days to life sentence at Weston State Hospital in West Virginia. It was an excruciating time with absolutely nothing to do. It closed in the early 1990s. It was turned into a tourist attraction and given its original name The Trans Allegheny Lunitic Asylum.
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Michael,
Thank goodness you made it out of psychiatry’s hellhole alive.
Although most of psychiatry’s so-called “asylums” were emptied, its power to harm with impunity remains as it’s still a safe place for people to practice cruelty with impunity — malicious or not — it just adopted more socially acceptable methods and guises.
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The Citizens Research Council of Michigan (CRC), a nonpartisan citizenâs watchdog agency, has the same grim picture of Pontiac on an article on their website as I do in my article and paint the same grim picture of public mental hospitals in the past in Michigan. According to Karly Abramson and Meredith Eis, âWhile there were many good reasons to close-down the inhumane âinsane asylumsâ of yesteryear, doing so without providing the necessary infrastructure and funding to build and maintain alternative, community-based sources of treatment has left Michigan with a broken system that too often fails those in need of help.â Michigan Falls Short on Mental Health Services – Citizens Research Council of Michigan (crcmich.org)
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ââŠyou were there over 60 years ago. Why not just forget about it?â
First of all, this was a powerful way to discuss the beginnings of your experiences. Unfortunately it is still the attitude of most people who do not want to wake up & smell the proverbial roses.
I appreciate that you shared your experiences. While itâs possible to allow time to heal, thereâs nothing forgettable about what you shared.
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