Haunted Pennsylvania

Eastern State Penitentiary

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Eastern State Penitentiary
ESP.jpg
The exterior of Eastern State Penitentiary.
Location 2027 Fairmount Avenue
Fairmount, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Area 11 acres (45,000 m2)[1]
Built 1829 (closed in 1971)
Architect John Haviland
Architectural style Gothic Revival
Governing body State
NRHP Reference # 66000680
Significant dates
Added to NRHP October 15, 1966[3]
Designated NHL June 23, 1965[4]
Designated PHMC May 02, 1996[2]
The Eastern State Penitentiary, also known as ESP, is a former American prison in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.[5] It is found at 2027 Fairmount Avenue between Corinthian Avenue and North 22nd Street in the Fairmount section of the city, and was operational from 1829 until 1971. The penitentiary refined the revolutionary system of separate incarceration first pioneered at the Walnut Street Jail which emphasized principles of reform rather than punishment.[6]
Notorious criminals such as bank robber Willie Sutton and Al Capone were held inside its innovative wagon wheel design. At its completion, the building was the largest and most expensive public structure ever erected, and quickly became a model for more than 300 prisons worldwide.
The prison is currently a U.S. National Historic Landmark,[4] which is open to the public as a museum for tours seven days a week, twelve months a year 10 am to 5 pm.

History


Eastern State Penitentiary's 1836 floor plan
Designed by John Haviland and opened on October 25, 1829, Eastern State is considered to be the world's first true penitentiary. Eastern State's revolutionary system of incarceration, dubbed the "Pennsylvania system" or separate system, encouraged separate confinement (the warden was legally required to visit every inmate every day, and the overseers were mandated to see each inmate three times a day) as a form of rehabilitation.
The Pennsylvania System was opposed contemporaneously by the Auburn system (also known as the New York system), which held that prisoners should be forced to work together in silence, and could be subjected to physical punishment (Sing Sing prison was an example of the Auburn system). Although the Auburn system was favored in the United States, Eastern State's radial floor plan and system of solitary confinement was the model for over 300 prisons worldwide.
Originally, inmates were housed in cells that could only be accessed by entering through a small exercise yard attached to the back of the prison; only a small portal, just large enough to pass meals, opened onto the cell blocks. This design proved impractical, and in the middle of construction, cells were constructed that allowed prisoners to enter and leave the cell blocks through metal doors that were covered by a heavy wooden door to filter out noise. The halls were designed to have the feel of a church.[7]
Some believe that the doors were small so prisoners would have a harder time getting out, minimizing an attack on a security guard. Others have explained the small doors forced the prisoners to bow while entering their cell. This design is related to penance and ties to the religious inspiration of the prison. The cells were made of concrete with a single glass skylight, representing the "Eye of God", suggesting to the prisoners that God was always watching them.[7]
Outside the cell was an individual area for exercise, enclosed by high walls so prisoners could not communicate. Exercise time for each prisoner was synchronized so no two prisoners next to each other would be out at the same time. Prisoners were allowed to garden and even keep pets in their exercise yards. When a prisoner left his cell, an accompanying guard would wrap a hood over his head to prevent him from being recognized by other prisoners.[7]
Cell accommodations were advanced for their time, including a faucet with running water over a flush toilet, as well as curved pipes along part of one wall which served as central heating during the winter months where hot water would be run through the pipes to keep the cells reasonably heated. Toilets were remotely flushed twice a week by the guards of the cellblock.

One of the two story cell blocks in Eastern State Penitentiary
The original design of the building was for seven one-story cell blocks, but by the time cell block three was completed, the prison was already over capacity. All subsequent cell blocks had two floors. Toward the end, cell blocks 14 and 15 were hastily built due to overcrowding. They were built and designed by prisoners. Cell block 15 was for the worst behaved prisoners, and the guards were gated off from there entirely.
Inmates were punished with the "individual-treatment system." At the time this form of punishment was thought to be most effective. They would be separated from others.[8]
In 1924, Pennsylvania Governor Gifford Pinchot allegedly sentenced Pep "The Cat-Murdering Dog" (an actual dog) to a life sentence at Eastern State. Pep allegedly murdered the governor’s wife’s cherished cat. Prison records reflect that Pep was assigned an inmate number (no. C2559), which is seen in his mug shot. However, the reason for Pep’s incarceration remains a subject of some debate. A contemporary newspaper article reported that the governor donated his own dog to the prison to increase inmate morale.[1]
On April 3, 1945, a major escape was carried out by twelve inmates (including the infamous Willie Sutton), who over the course of a year managed to dig an undiscovered 97-foot (30 m) tunnel under the prison wall. During renovations in the 1930s an additional 30 incomplete inmate-dug tunnels were discovered.
It was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1965.[4][9]
The prison was closed in 1971. Many prisoners and guards were transferred to Graterford Prison, about 31 miles (50 km) northwest of Eastern State. The City of Philadelphia purchased the property with the intention of redeveloping it. The site had several proposals, including a mall and a luxury apartment complex surrounded by the old prison walls
During the abandoned era (from closing until the late 80s) a "forest" grew in the cell blocks and outside within the walls. The prison also became home to many stray cats.
In 1988, the Eastern State Penitentiary Task Force successfully petitioned Mayor Wilson Goode to halt redevelopment. In 1994, Eastern State opened to the public for historic tours.

End of the solitary confinement system


A typical cell in restored condition.
The solitary confinement system eventually collapsed due to overcrowding problems. By 1913, Eastern State officially abandoned the solitary system and operated as a congregate prison until it closed in 1970 (Eastern State was briefly used to house city inmates in 1971 after a riot at Holmesburg Prison).

Al Capone's cell.

The remains of the barber shop.
The prison was one of the largest public-works projects of the early republic, and was a tourist destination in the 19th century. Notable visitors included Charles Dickens and Alexis de Tocqueville while notable inmates included Willie Sutton and Al Capone in 1929. Visitors spoke with prisoners in their cells, proving that inmates were not isolated, though the prisoners themselves were not allowed to have any visits with family or friends during their stay.
Most of the early prisoners were petty criminals incarcerated for various robbery and theft charges (muggers, pickpockets, purse-snatchers, burglars, etc.) and the first-time offenders often served two years.
The Penitentiary was intended not simply to punish, but to move the criminal toward spiritual reflection and change. While some have argued that the Pennsylvania System was Quaker-inspired, there is little evidence to support this; the organization that promoted Eastern State's creation, the Society for Alleviating the Miseries of Public Prisons (today's Pennsylvania Prison Society) was less than half Quaker, and was led for nearly fifty years by Philadelphia's Anglican bishop, William White. Proponents of the system believed strongly that the criminals, exposed, in silence, to thoughts of their behavior and the ugliness of their crimes, would become genuinely penitent.
In reality, the guards and councilors of the facility designed a variety of physical and psychological torture regimens for various infractions, including dousing prisoners in freezing water outside during winter months, chaining their tongues to their wrists in a fashion such that struggling against the chains could cause the tongue to tear, strapping prisoners into chairs with tight leather restraints for days on end, and putting the worst behaved prisoners into a pit called "The Hole", an underground cellblock dug under cellblock 14 where they would have no light, no human contact, and little food for as long as two weeks.

Architectural significance


Eastern State Penitentiary's radial plan served as the model for hundreds of later prisons.
When the Eastern State Penitentiary, or Cherry Hill as it was known at the time, was erected in 1829 in Francisville (the idea of this new prison was created in a meeting held at Benjamin Franklin's house in 1787) it was the largest and most expensive public structure in the country.[10] Its architectural significance first arose in 1821, when British architect John Haviland was chosen to design the building. Haviland found most of his inspiration for his plan for the penitentiary from prisons and asylums built beginning in the 1780s in England and Ireland.[10] He gave the prison a neo-Gothic look to install fear into those who thought of committing a crime.[11]
These complexes consist of cell wings radiating in a semi or full circle array from a center tower from where the prison could be kept under constant surveillance. The design for the penitentiary which Haviland devised became known as the hub-and-spoke plan which consisted of an octagonal center connected by corridors to seven radiating single-story cell blocks, each containing two ranges of large single cells—8 x 12 feet x 10 feet high- with hot water heating, a water tap, toilet, and individual exercise yards the same width as the cell.[10]
There were rectangular openings in the cell wall through which food and work materials could be passed to the prisoner, as well as peepholes for guards to observe prisoners without being seen. To minimize the opportunities for communication between inmates Haviland designed a basic flush toilet for each cell with individual pipes leading to a central sewer which he hoped would prevent the sending of messages between adjacent cells.[10]
Despite his efforts, prisoners were still able to communicate with each other and the flushing system had to be redesigned several times. Haviland remarked that he chose the design to promote "watching, convenience, economy, and ventilation".[12] Once construction of the prison was completed in 1836, it could house 450 prisoners.[13]
John Haviland completed the architecture of the Eastern state penitentiary in 1836. Each cell was lit only by a single lighting source from either skylights or windows, which was considered the “Window of God” or “Eye of God”. The church viewed imprisonment, usually in isolation, as an instrument that would modify sinful or disruptive behavior. The time spent in prison would help inmates reflect on their crimes committed, giving them the mission for redemption.

Modern-day

The Eastern State Penitentiary operates as a museum and historic site, open year-round. Guided tours are offered during the winter, and during the warmer months, self-guided recorded tours with headphones are also available (narrated mainly by Steve Buscemi, with former guards, wardens and prisoners also contributing). A scavenger hunt is available for children.
Visitors are allowed to walk into several specially marked solitary confinement cells, but most of them remain off limits and filled with original rubble and debris from years of neglect. The city skyline of Philadelphia is visible from the prison courtyard, which still has the original baseball backstop and a chain link fence atop the "outfield wall," the outer prison wall to attempt to keep home run balls inside the grounds. There is also a camera located in the center guard tower, that lets visitors experience a guards view of the prison.
In addition, Eastern State holds many special events throughout the year. Each July, there is a Bastille Day celebration, complete with a comedic reinterpretation of the storming of the Bastille and the tossing of thousands of Tastykakes from the towers,[14] accompanied by a cry of "let them eat Tastykake!" from an actor portraying Marie Antoinette


Pennhurst Asylum: The Shame of Pennsylvania

The History and Horror of Pennhurst Asylum

By Matt Lake, Rusty Tagliareni  and Mark Moran
Back in the mid 1960s, fledgling TV reporter Bill Baldini ran a five-episode exposé of Pennhurst State School and Hospital on Philadelphia’s TV10 (now an NBC affiliate). It painted a picture of neglect and abuse in the Chester County institution that was hard for the regular viewers to stomach. On the flickering monochrome televisions of the time came images of full-grown hands and feet bound by straps to adult-sized crib beds. Inmates of the institution were shown rocking, pacing, and twitching. Many were severely disabled either mentally or physically, but others were quite lucid and coherent—but withdrawn into themselves because of over-stimulation of the senses in the loud and sometimes frightening place, and a lack of much-needed mental stimulation. The five-minute news segments were entitled “Suffer the Little Children.” When one patient was asked by the interviewer what he would like most in the world, if he could have anything he wanted, the sad and withdrawn reply was simply, “To get out of Pennhurst.”

This state-funded school and hospital center was at the heart of the human rights movement that revolutionized this country’s approach to healthcare for the mentally and physically handicapped. This facility was one of the most striking examples of the maltreatment that was characteristic of such institutions––at one point, papers labeled it “The Shame of the Pennsylvania”.
Pennhurst first opened its doors in November of 1908, and due to pressure to accept not only the mentally and physically handicapped, but also immigrants, criminals and orphans who could not be housed elsewhere, it was overcrowded within only a few years. In 1913, the Commission for the Care of the Feeble-Minded was appointed, and boldly stated that those with disabilities were “unfit for citizenship” and furthermore, “posed a menace to the peace.”  Patients at Pennhurst were grouped into several general categories. Under the classification of mental prowess, one was listed as either an “imbecile” or “insane”. Physically, the patient could be declared either “epileptic” or “healthy”.

Like many similar facilities of the era, Pennhurst was functioned almost completely independently from the rest of society. It operated its own power plant, policed its own grounds and produced its own food. Any additional needs were supplied by a railway line that connected the campus to the outside world. The facility could operate without any interaction with the surrounding community, and that was the way the community preferred it.
By the mid-1960s, Pennhurst had been open for fifty years. It housed 2,791 people, most of them children, which was about 900 more than the administration thought the buildings could comfortably accommodate. But as a state school, they had to take what they were given. Only 200 of the residents were in any kind of art, education, or recreation programs that would help to improve their condition, though many of the patients were high-functioning enough to improve with the right care. The administrators interviewed in this program recognized that they were falling short of their ideal treatment, but with a crumbling building, a budget shortfall of four million dollars, and only 9 medical doctors and 11 teachers (none of them with special education training), their hands were tied.

Probably the most chilling scene in the 30 minutes of documentary footage in the TV10 report showed one of the hospital’s physicians describing how he dealt with a particularly vicious bully who had brutalized one of his other inmates. He described how he had asked one of his colleagues which injection he could use to cause the most discomfort to a patient without permanently injuring him. Then he proceeded to administer that injection to the bully.
From that point on, it was inevitable that the hospital would close down, but it took two decades of legal actions, federal judgments made and overturned, and growing financial crises for the place to be shuttered. By the 1980’s, overcrowding, lack of funds, inadequate staffing and decades of abuse and neglect accusations caught up with the operation, and in 1987 Pennhurst closed its doors. Its death was not without positive impact, though. The martyrdom of its long suffering patients helped put into motion changes to medical practice across the country and to society as a whole. 
Despite the ultimate outcome, many former residents and staff members maintain that Pennhurst served some of its inmates very well. Some high-functioning patients received the treatment and therapies they needed to prepare themselves for living in the outside world. And some patients were so mentally handicapped that they injured themselves at the slightest provocation. One patient would charge into the walls headfirst. Such patients probably needed to be restrained for their own protection.
When Pennhurst closed, it suffered fewer invasions than some other abandoned Pennsylvania hospitals, due in part to the presence of a National Guard post and Veteran’s Hospital on part of the property at that time. Today the place is in the hands of private owners, and at the center of an unusual controversy. One of the modern functions is as a haunted house attraction (www.pennhurstasylum.com), a use that has generated concern among those who view it as deeply disrespectful to those who suffered the brutality that once took place here. The present owners are taking steps to reverse the 23 years of damage wrought by time and vandalism to the remaining buildings. They were kind enough to allow Weird NJ on the property to document this interesting transition. They gave us a guided tour of many of the buildings, including some that needed to be unsealing for us to gain entry.
Timothy Smith, the son of the facility’s owner, who took the time to speak with Weird NJ, expressed a desire to restore the better portion of the property, with the eventual goal of creating a museum and historical tour open to the public. We’d like to think that in such a way, the place could finally serve some good purpose, educating the public in the errors of previous generations and commemorating all the lives that were spent here.

Paranormal Pennhurst

Naturally, as with any such institution with a sorted history of human suffering, violence and death, Pennhurst is not without its share of ghostly tales. Pennhurst is allegedly so haunted, in fact, that its paranormal presences have spawned a spectral cottage industry––ghost hunting on the grounds of the old asylum. In addition to overseeing the restoration projects at Pennhurst and operating the Pennhurst Asylum haunted attraction during the Halloween season, Timothy Smith is also President and CEO of the Pennhurst Paranormal Association. Using the enticing tagline, “They lived here, died here and are still here,” the organization plans to open up the former hospital to the public for ghost hunts on the campus. With other former institutions-turned-tourist-attractions such as Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia and Waverly Hills Sanatorium in Louisville, Kentucky as a business models, Timothy believes that the public’s curiosity about Pennhurst’s spooks make it a potentially very profitable paranormal property. The television show “Ghost Adventures” has already filmed an episode of their Travel Channel program here.

Photo by Rusty Tagliareni
During Weird NJ’s tour of Pennhurst we were joined by members of the Shore Paranormal Research Society (S.P.R.S.) who have become the official  paranormal investigators for the former institution. The S.P.R.S. is an Ocean County, NJ based team of trained individuals whose sole purpose is to find the truth behind claims of paranormal activity. According to Jim Ansbach, the group’s founder and case manager, Pennhurst is rife with such activity. The group has conducted several large-scale investigations of the old asylum’s many buildings, and documented a variety of evidence of paranormal activity––including photos, videos, recordings of voice phenomena and personal encounters with spirits. Among the recordings are the sounds of disembodies voices uttering things like  “go away”, “I’ll kill you”, “we’re upset”, and “why’d you come here?” An unknown male states, “I’m scared” while an invisible female asks, “why won’t you leave?”
Here are just some of the group’s other findings:
Quaker Building:  Numerous shadows manifest and dissipate at will. These shadows include what appeared to be a small female child with long black hair, a hunched over presence with long dangling arms and the upper portion of bodies looking over or around obstacles. Doors and a rocking chair have moved without anyone being near them. Investigator was shoved from behind hard enough on a stairway to leave a deep red mark on the small of back. Investigator was scratched on the arm by unknown object when they were not by anything or close to any walls. Objects being propelled in the basement such as a pry bar, some sort of brass fixture, and various other unknown objects. Multiple EVP’s (electronic voice phenomena) as well EMF spikes throughout the building when there is no electric supplied to any building there. Our Psychic Medium, Sharon Pugh, has felt multiple energies there including either a demonic force or a past life that wasn’t a very nice person.
Limerick Building:  The apparition of a woman in a old style nurse’s uniform was observed by a fire fighter, police officer and a marine.  Multiple EVP’s.
Devon Building: Unknown sounds and multiple EVP’s.
Mayflower Building: Shadow people seen multiple times. EVP’s captured. Investigators have been touched in this building.
Tinicum Building: Multiple EVP’s. Investigator had their legs touched.
Philadelphia Building: Loud sounds and voices heard coming from the building. Investigators surrounded the building and entered it via the tunnel system. No one was in the building nor could they have fled without being observed.
Administration Building: Multiple voices heard at various times and EVP’s caught of what appears to be a toilet flushing. This building has no running water or bathroom fixtures.
Hershey Building: Investigator heard a female child’s voice on the third floor.
For a full report of all the S.P.R.S.’s investigations and gathered evidence visit their web site at: ShoreParanormal.com
Those interested in participating in a Pennhurst ghost hunt can find more information by visiting the web site PennhurstParanormal.com

Photo by Rusty Tagliareni

The Children Did Suffer

Lots of medical professionals I work with did a stint at Pennhurst early in their careers. It was a boarding school as well as a hospital, though the more low-functioning residents were incapable of speaking, let alone learning anything, and many of the high-functioning residents never learned to read. Most of the people there weren’t insane, just mentally retarded, autistic or suffering other serious physical impairments. Some residents apparently just had learning disabilities or hyperactivity and emotional problems that made them seem more impaired. They would end up on high-functioning wards.

Photo by Rusty Tagliareni
My colleagues told me that the staff would put the high-functioning residents who acted out to work in low-functioning wards as a punishment. They even called the low-functioning wards “punishment wards.” Many of those kids who acted out weren’t bad kids; they were often victims of bullies. The nasty kids would attack the other residents with broom handles and do much worse. Some cases of deaths that were attributed to suicide or accident were probably extreme cases of bullying. Naturally, the bullies would seldom get caught, so when their victims acted out, they were the ones who had to slop up after the severely handicapped residents. But Pennhurst wasn’t a bad organization in itself. It just suffered the problems that many institutions do, and so its residents suffered too.  –MelB

Photo by Rusty Tagliareni

The Pennhurst Family Album

When I went to Pennhurst at night, it scared me halfway to death. When the wind blows across the buildings, it sounds like someone walking. There were dead animals there, and what looked like blood on some of the equipment. Once is enough. I’m never going back. But there was this one room that was really interesting. It was strewn with papers and photographs, carpeted with them, wall-to-wall. I didn’t read the papers, but the black-and-white photographs looked like something from a family album. –Anonymous
For more on this story and all the other strange sites that the Quaker State has to offer, check out our book Weird Pennsylvania.
Pennhurst Video by Antiquity Echoes.


No comments:

Post a Comment