I have decided to call the final chapter of the asylum's history, "An Open Book" for the simple reason that I'd like to leave this subject open.  Unlike literature you might purchase at a book store, these pages can be updated.  As time goes by, I will add more information to the history of the asylum, so please check back her from time to time.

The history continues to grow.  The complete book is still out there, and still a threat.  Doubt it?  Watch the news carefully.  I'll give you a hint.  Look for the stories where some heartbreaking suicide has occurred, perhaps involving an entire family, and no one seems to know why.  All the friends, coworkers, and neighbors swear the person was very stable, very normal, yet suddenly...

Perhaps I've said too much.

Don't forget to read my journal entries which will have new pages added quite frequently.  There are also some hidden stories elsewhere on this site, some of the more tragic tales, but I'll leave those to be found.

Please pass this site on to your friends and family.  I won't make a preposterous claim that you'll have "good luck" if you e-mail this site to ten of your friends, but you will help the world know of a place that was supposed to be forgotten.  And remember those who would otherwise cease to exist.

In closing, I'd like to end on a happy note.  Although it is true that these patients have a chronic depression without a cure, we can often temporarily relieve them of their sorrows with activities that allow them to forget.  Keep them busy and they don't have time to dwell.

Here then, I leave you with a rare picture of a happy moment, the staff with some patients singing Christmas carols, circa 1919.