Bolivar, Tennessee: Where Crazy People Go

Here's what I know about insane asylums:
1.  Shock treatments
2.  Lobotomies
3.  Escapees with hooks instead of hands

I admit that my "knowledge" is based on urban legends and the absolutely terrifying children's(!) film, Return to Oz.  Seriously, kids should not watch this.



This is what I was thinking of as we drove to Bolivar, Tennessee, to look at the Western Mental Health Institute. Also, ghosts, because I think it's fair to assume that all Victorian-era mental hospitals are haunted.

This is the time to say that THIS WAS NOT MY IDEA.

When I said I wanted to take Weirdo Vacations, I didn't mean that I wanted to die at the hands of an angry lobotomized ghost.  And yet, here I was, basically offering myself as a sacrifice to mentally unbalanced spirits. 

My heart was racing as we drove onto the grounds.  It was after 9:00 p.m., which is no time to be visiting an institution, my GOD.  A crescent moon offered dim light, and lightning cracked several times, which made me even more certain that we were walking into a horror film.  It definitely didn't help that the oldest part of the hospital--the part we were coming to gawk at--looks like my nightmares.

(photo taken circa 1900) (not by me)



Since this is still a working facility, we couldn't get close to the building (not that I wanted to anyway).  In fact, we were probably there illegally and will most likely be arrested and then incarcerated in the very institution we were stalking (irony!). 

All the photos I took are of questionable quality.  Everything you'll see here has been touched up, but I only messed with the lighting; I didn't add anything, I swear. 

With that said:

Here's the only color photograph you'll see from me.  I adjusted the fill light and the highlighting; otherwise all you'd see is a black square.

From what I understand, this is now used as an administrative building.  It used to be much larger, but two wings have been demolished. 

It looks like Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory.

There are two things worthy of special notice in my photos.

First, WHAT THE POOP ARE THESE?

And second, I've already referred to the crescent moon, so WHAT THE POOP IS THIS?

Here is a bonus, just because:

You'll have noticed that I survived the trip.  The best part is that I didn't get haunted, wasn't hit by lightning, didn't find a hook on the handle of the car door, and managed not to pee myself. 

Maybe my standards are low, but I call that a success.