Tag Archives: history

Central State Hospital

Photo (source): The “Old Main” building of the hospital served as the Men’s Department.

Prior to the establishment of mental health facilities in the United States most individuals suffering from mental disorders were relegated to living as beggars in almshouses, being secluded in damp basements, or confined for the rest of their days in prison. Patients in asylums fared only slightly better, as they were often subject to questionable treatment at the hands of their physicians.

At the time conventional medical practitioners did not have the benefit of advanced imaging techniques, testing procedures, and psychiatric treatment breakthroughs we take for granted. Physicians in the 1800’s believed that forms of “insanity” were thought to all derive from either direct physical or indirect moral sources. Brain specimens from patients post mortem often revealed direct physical sources for insanity such as physical trauma, lesions, tumors, syphilis, or other organic causes. Indirect moral sources as a cause for insanity ranged a wide gamut from the entirely plausible to highly improbable. These factors could include fatigue, seduction, jealousy, religious excitement, drunkeness, tobacco use, drug addiction, masturbation, lack of education, and financial difficulty.

The government of Indiana’s official concern for individuals with psychological issues dates back to 1827. That year the state legislature allocated a small parcel of land known as “square 22” with a small log cabin in Indianapolis to be used as a “lunatic asylum.” In 1844 political activist Dorothea Dix persuaded the Indiana General Assembly to appropriate funds for an official state-run asylum. Governor Whitcomb appointed his associate Dr. John Evans as commissioner in charge of developing the hospital. In fall of 1845 the state purchased a 160-acre plot of farmland three miles from the center of Indianapolis from Nathaniel Bolton for the sum of $5,300.

Photo: A well worn workbench in the former power station.

To prepare for construction Dr. Evans travelled east to study mental institutions at his own expense. His subsequent building recommendation for the hospital followed the Kirkbride Plan. One defining element of Kirkbride Plan architecture is a central core with staggered wings. Each area had prescribed uses to maximize hospital efficacy. The core contained offices, reception room, visitor’s suite, kitchen, chapel, and other essential rooms. The wings were partitioned into wards accommodating patients according to their classification and gender. In addition to patient rooms, the Kirkbride Plan also allocated space for recreation, hygiene, food service and other hospital logistics. The grounds surrounding these types of buildings were quite expansive and ornate, thus guaranteeing a level of seclusion from an intruding and curious public.

In addition to architectural style requirements, the Kirkbride Plan is heavily ingrained with Moral Treatment philosophy. In combination with medical care patients were expected to participate in recuperative therapy, religious exercise, education courses, work therapy, social engagements, and a host of other activities perceived to have curative effects. Hospital staff were discouraged from using restraints whenever possible, refrain from using physical violence, show compassion to their wards and have a thorough understanding of their condition.

On May 5, 1846 construction of the Indiana State Hospital for the Insane broke ground. As time progressed a myriad of support structures sprawled across the expansive plot of land. These included expansions to the “Old Main” Men’s Department, the “Seven Steeples” Women’s Department, Central Boiler House and Plant, Carpenter’s Shop, Pathological Department, Kitchen, Dining Rooms, Greenhouse, Cold Storage, Upholstry Department, Amusement Hall, Chapel, Fire Department, staff homes, and Administration Building among others. The elegant architecture of the “Seven Steeples” Women’s Department was admired for its elegance, but in reality it possessed eight steeples.

The new facility opened its doors and welcomed five patients on November 21, 1848. Treating mental illness at that time involved a great deal of speculation with little hope for recovery for many patients. The hastening pace of industrialization, the ravages of the Civil War, and friction between Victorian era and American societal norms further compounded matters. As such the patient population at the hospital would greatly increase to the point where it suffered from chronic overcrowding.

Gracefully Aging
Photo: Aged chairs succumbing to the elements in one of the many derelict hospital structures.

Ideally the ultimate goal of any hospital is to provide the best care it can for patients. In pursuit of this goal, however, the hospital was not able to avoid becoming a pawn for those with political or ideological agendas. In fact the hospital experienced regular intervals of discord both internally and publicly. Cyclical underfunding brought about by fiscal conservatism ensured that the hospital was consistently unable to perform some of its duties. Outrage directed towards the hospital in times of crisis were then typically followed by a period of progressive reform.

On the surface the hospital appeared to be quite progressive in its efforts to properly treat its wards. Behind the scenes, however, was a hidden reality for the most indigent and dangerous patients. In 1870 the Indiana Governor received the following report on some of the deplorable conditions at the hospital.

“…basement dungeons (are) dark, humid and foul, unfit for life of any kind, filled with maniacs who raved and howled like tortured beasts, for want of light, and air, and food, and ordinanry human associations and habiliments…”

Dr. Everts – Superintendent
Central State Hospital for the Insane

Declining conditions at the hospital also included lack of proper staff training, heat, proper lighting, ventilation, structural maintenance, proper bedding, and kitchens infested with cockroaches due to inadequate funding. Dr. Everts efforts to highlight the plight endured by the hospital fell on deaf ears, which led to his resignation in 1872.

It took the printed word of actual hospital patients who endured the conditions at the hospital to arouse public indignation. Civil war veteran and former patient Albert Thayer disseminated his accounts along with others via a broadside called “Indiana Crazy House” to churches, politicians, and Indiana citizens. Thayer’s efforts were somewhat successful in improving physical conditions at the hospital. Despite these improvements, primary caregivers at the hospital continued to be poorly trained medical attendants rather than actual physicians. Patient abuse at the hands of their overwhelmed caretakers continued unabated. The misuse of sedatives and physical restraints to ease the staff workload was common practice.

In late 1883 the hospital hired the first officially recognized female medical doctor in Indiana. At the time of her arrival Sarah Stockton was just one of only 22 female physicians in the United States. Dr. Stockton was tasked primarily with the care of female patients. Her focus centered on reproductive ailments, which were at that time generally thought to exacerbate mental illness.

Dr. Stockton’s hiring was just one of the calculated efforts by Superintendent Richard Fletcher to bring about reform. To protest the poor conditions at the hospital Fletcher caused a spectacle when he publicly burned the hospital’s physical restraints in a bonfire in 1885. Several other practical reforms were instituted under his tenure. Medicinal use of whiskey was reduced from three gallons per day down to just one pint. Patients enjoyed the benefit of free dental care. He also brought dignity to those patients who had passed on by abandoning the practice of anonymous burials.

Photo (source): 1931 aerial photo from the south looking north. Notice the two large staggered Kirkbride Plan buildings.

With the construction of other mental health facilities the official hospital name changed around 1889 to Central Indiana State Hospital for the Insane to reflect its geographic location in relation to the others. This period is marked by positive change brought about by Superintendent George Edenharter. One of the first pathology laboratories in the nation opened under his leadership in 1896. This state of the art teaching and research facility included a lecture amphitheater, autopsy room, photography room, library, anatomical museum, and research laboratories.

Criminology also made significant strides at the hospital under the direction of Dr. Max Bahr. Bahr’s research focused on the link between crime and mental illness. You can hop over to here to get in contact with the best legal firm. He developed some of the first forensic psychiatry courses for American lawyers. During his tenure the name of the hospital changed to Central State Hospital (CSH) in 1926.

The pathology department would gain international renown in 1931 when Dr. Walter Bruetsch made significant discoveries in the treatment of syphilis. He discovered that malaria triggered the production of white blood cells that consumed both syphilis and malaria. Prior to his discovery, syphilis had been the largest cause of mental illness. This major breakthrough made significant headway in treating syphilis until the advent of penicillin.

During the 1950s advances in psychopharmacology shifted public perception of mental health facilities nationwide. Up until that point the patient population had swelled to approximately 2,500. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s a trend towards deinstitutionalization became a matter of public health policy. As a result patients with conditions that could be controlled with medication and cases of mental retardation were moved into smaller facilities, half-way houses, or trained to live autonomously. The total number of patients would continue to decline until its eventual closing.

Photo (Jonathon Much): A chair waits in the Administration Building.

With an ever declining in-patient population and movement toward deinstitutionalization much of the hospital languished. In the mid-1960 Superintendent Clifford Williams reported that there was only one bathtub and three toilets serving all 24 wards. Patients were also kept in perpetual darkness as rooms did not have lighting.

Public attention during the 1970s also focused on the repeal of one of Indiana’s most dubious public health laws. In 1907 the state passed the first eugenics law, which empowered the state to forcibly sterilize the poor, drunkards, sexual deviants, the mentally deficient and those with communicable or hereditary disease. The law was overturned in 1921 on constitutional grounds, but a 1927 revision resumed the use of forcible sterilization. Up until 1974 the state carried out approximately 2,500 forcible sterilizations, some of which occurred at CSH. Bowing to public pressure the law was finally repealed in 1974.

In the same decade some of the remaining Victorian-era buildings, including the ornate Seven Steeples, were demolished to make room for practical facilities with modern amenities. Beneath the surface, however, still exists a service tunnel network that spans five miles that connected all of the buildings.

Reports of patient abuse and deaths once again cast a dark shadow in the early 1990s. By then the total patient numbers had dwindled to under 400. Between 1988 and 1992 as many as 24 patients may have died under questionable circumstances. One patient died of exposure from a broken window. Another patient was found dead after drowning in a bathtub. Yet another had died from a medication overdose. After a grand jury investigation into at least ten of the suspicious deaths then Governor Evan Bayh decided to shut down the aging hospital. Although the writing was on the wall the state allocated $2.2 million for renovations, excluding labor costs, in 1993 to bring the hospital up to code. In June, 1994 the last 18 patients were transferred to other facilities. With its beds empty the hospital closed its doors after 146 years in public service.

Today there are 19 structures in various states that are scattered on the grounds. Of these the Administration Building, Dining Hall, Laundry, and Pathology Building are registered as historically significant buildings. In 2003 Indianapolis purchased the property from the state for $400,000 and has marketed it as a great opportunity for mixed development. Construction crews have already begun working on the east side of the property, which means the end is in sight for many of the forgotten hospital structures.

Photo: The delusional author insists on getting his hair permed despite suffering alopecia androgenetica.

Exploring the hospital grounds proved to be a greater challenge than originally anticipated. Although many of the buildings are exposed to the elements, extreme cold during the exploration hampered the effort. Both the bottles of water and soda I carried with me froze to the point where they became undrinkable. My fingers could not stand being exposed for a few seconds at a time even with hand warmers inside of retractable gloves. Condensation from my respirator dripped constantly throughout the day rendering a drip ice pattern on the front of my jacket. The lenses I tried to use became unresponsive or were fogged up. At one point the mode and power switch on my camera froze together, which rendered the entire camera inoperable. Staying warm took priority over concentrating on finding subjects to photograph. Being a Wisconsin native bore no weight in this cold and the overall quality of photos taken suffered.

Photo: Amphitheater in the Pathology Building used for medical instruction.

After spending most of the day feeling like Han Solo frozen in carbonite I decided to head over to the Indiana Medical History Museum housed in the former Pathology Building. The guided tour is somewhat brief, but densely packed with fascinating medical history. The guide escorts visitors through the various rooms dedicated to specific tasks involved with treating patients. Throughout the tour they tread a fine line between satisfying the morbidly curious while simultaneously respecting medical history. Visitors are confronted with the authentic medical instruments, techniques, and ephemera from the periods they represent. Although some of installation pieces may induce nausea, this is usually replaced by an instant appreciation for modern medical practices. I can confidently prescribe this museum to anyone within the vicinity. Side effects may include curiosity, amazement, and learning.

There are a dearth of available sources that tout the hospital’s attraction as a haunted location. These pieces like to highlight the darker areas of its history to accentuate its mystique. Some go so far as to present what they believe to be bona fide evidence of paranormal activity. It is important to remember that these people in the majority of cases are by no means actual scientists using proven methods. They run around in the dark and claim to hear or see things for what they are not. In some ways they share traits with those who were legitimate patients suffering from paranoia, hallucinations, and delusions. By muddying the history these people do its doctors and patients a disservice.

Advances in medical testing, forensics, diagnosis procedure, pharmacology, and psychiatry have greatly reduced the need for patient institutionalization. For as long as the human body is plagued by illness, there will always be the need for institutions to house patients who need care. If there is anything that the history of Central State Hospital can teach us it is that medical care is not a pawn for political, ideological, or budgetary gain. It is in the public interest to adequately fund healthcare for all. It is the kind, compassionate, and morally right thing to do as disease cares not for anyone’s convictions.

Video (nichdane04): Century old brain specimens from CSH are being used to study mental illness.

Resources:

Ancestry.com – Page with photos of Central State Hospital

Asylum Projects – Entry for Central Indiana State Hospital

Ball State University (PDF) – Central Greens, LLC 2011 Creative Project Summary for CSH reuse

City of Indianapolis (PDF) – 2005 Private Contractor bidding form for CSH property

City of Indianapolis (PDF) – Keramida assessment of CSH brownfield cleanup alternatives

City of Indianapolis (PDF) – Central Greens, LLC land reuse proposal

Flickr – My Central State Hospital set

Flickr – agnisflugen2’s CSH set

Flickr – gdnght1’s CSH set

Flickr – rachel42’s CSH set

Google Books – The Encyclopedia of Indianapolis entry on CSH

Google Books – Indianapolis Monthly has a great photo of the IMHM lab

Google Books – Psychiatry in Indiana

Google Books – Shook Over Hell mentions CSH

Google Books – Weird Indiana entry on CSH

ICMHSR – Group tracking former CSH patient welfare

IMHM – Homepage for the Indiana Medical History Museum

IMHM (PDF) – Ellen Dwyer’s account of the hospital history

IN.gov – State government page on Dr. Sarah Stockton

IN.gov – General CSH resources

Indiana Public Media – Article on Central State Hospital

Indiana University – Indiana Consortium for Mental Health Services tracking of CSH patients

Indiana University (PDF) – Paper has short Sarah Stockton bio

Inside Indiana Business – 2003 article on the city of Indianapolis’ plan to buy CSH land

Kirkbride Buildings – Describes the architectural style of the Kirkbride Plan

Leagle – Gooley v. Moss case where a CSH patient was forcibly sterilized in 1969

Library of Congress (PDF) – Written Historical and Descriptive Data

Opacity – Forum has CSH Men’s and Women’s Department maps

SpringerLink – Seven Steeples actually had eight of them

Whitepaper Bluesky LLC (PDF) – Central State of Mind reuse plan

Wikimedia – Photo of the Indiana Medical History Museum building

Wikipedia – Entry for Central State Hospital

Wikipedia – Entry for Deinstitutionalisation

Wikipedia – Entry for the Kirkbride Plan

Wikipedia – Entry for Moral Treatment

WTHR NBC13 – Mentions new construction on the site

WTHR NBC13 – Mentions apartment construction planned for the site

YouTube – nichdane04’s video on how CSH brain specimens are helping contemporary researchers

Emerson School

Photo (source): Emerson School as it appeared when it opened in 1909.

Americans constantly grapple with the best methods to educate children to become good citizens that contribute positively to society. Determining which facts, figures, names, dates, tests, benchmarks and statistics are significant is a battle waged on both ends of the ideological spectrum. Somewhere in the milieu we come to an agreement that there is never enough time to instruct everything in depth. Given the volume of content teachers must fit into curriculum for students to learn, many issues are drastically oversimplified. One of those unfortunate distortions is that after the Civil War the northern states continued to accept black Americans. The racially-charged history of the Emerson School on Gary, Indiana’s east side is one of those that should make you ask, “What did I really learn in school?”

Photo: The main doorway of the now abandoned Emerson High School.

Gary’s first school superintendent, Dr. William A. Wirt, helped design the first high school in the area. Wirt brought progressive reforms to the Gary schools that modern educators would accept as the norm. Wirt’s education philosophy revolved around the idea that the “whole child” must be educated. A complete education in Wirt’s philosophy includes not only developing the intellectual, but also the social, physical, vocational and character qualities of the individual student.

The school bears the name of American transcendentalist author Ralph Waldo Emerson. The Emerson school was built to include new facilities to aid student development which included an auditorium, gymnasium, pool, and even a zoo. The new school proved to be so successful that Wirt had to implement a policy to handle the 20-30 curious daily visitors. Wirt would later reuse many design elements from Emerson in the world famous Horace Mann High School on the west side of town.

Photo (source): Emerson as it appeared in 1913.

Wirt faced a dilemma in the 1910-20’s as the city’s black population greatly increased. The East Pulaski and Virginia Street School served the black population, but were segregated and in deplorable condition. The spillover caused nominal numbers of black students to receive education in predominately white schools throughout the city, but they were limited in which facilities they could use. In the 1926-27 school year six black students attended classes at Emerson High School. To help ameliorate the student overpopulation at Virginia Street School 18 black students were transferred to Emerson in 1927.

White students outraged at the presence of more black students in their midst immediately took to the streets. On Monday, September 26 some 600 students walked out of class. Those who remained inside were heckled incessantly until they joined the throngs of protesters. As the demonstration gained momentum signs saying, “WE WON’T GO BACK UNTIL EMERSON IS WHITE. . . . NO NIGGERS FOR EMERSON. . . . EMERSON IS A WHITE MAN’S SCHOOL” taunted the black students. On Tuesday the crowd swelled to about 800 students. Wirt hedged his bets by telling the angry crowd that “possibly when a new black school was erected on the east side, Emerson would be again segregated.” At its apex on Wednesday the student protesters numbered some 1357, which were also supported by family and other local citizens who took to the street. City, school, and district officials met with protesters to begin negotiations for bringing the strike to an end. By Friday an agreement was reached: Three of the original six black students at Emerson would be transfered, while the remaining three seniors would be allowed to graduate. The 18 black students transfered into Emerson would again be transferred out to other schools. The sum of $15,000 was also allocated for temporary facilities until a new black high school could be constructed.

Mounting pressure from civic groups such as the League of Women Voters, YWCA, and Gary Teacher’s Union to desegregate schools pushed district officials to make another attempt at integration in 1945. Again, white students took to the streets en masse in an effort to curb integration. Famous crooner Frank Sinatra even scolded the protesting students for their intolerance during a concert held at the Gary Memorial Auditorium. The following year the school district adopted a new policy that dictated, “children may not be discriminated in the school district in which they live, or within the schools in which they attend, because of race, color or religion.” The policy did not take effect until the following 1947 school year to allow the community time to adjust.

Photo: A classroom exposed to the elements swims in water.

After World War II the United States exported democracy and capitalism around the globe. As American business moved operations overseas major industrial centers began to decline. Because Emerson is a public school its fate is interwoven with that of Gary and its industry. As the population and median income plummeted, so to did revenue for Gary schools. Regular school operations continued until 1981 when low enrollment forced the school to reorganize. In 1982 the school changed its title to the Emerson School for the Visual and Performing Arts (VPA). The magnet school focused on attracting talent and fostering liberal arts skills.

Gary school district administrators faced a $23 million budget shortfall for the 2009 budget. At the time the district served about 14,000 students, which was half the enrollment 20 years prior. Consistently low test scores, high dropout rates, deplorable teaching facilities combined with an ever spiraling negative community tax base meant that hard decisions had to be made. The district decided to consolidate some of the area schools over a three year period. The writing, or mold more precisely, was on the wall for the historic building as concerned parents increasingly voiced their concern about Emerson health hazards. In 2008 the final bell rang for the Emerson building, which was just one year short of a full century of education service for the Gary community. During the transition Emerson VPA relocated to Miller Beach, Indiana. In 2011 the school returned to Gary, Indiana and currently occupies the former William A. Wirt High School building.

Photo: A ransacked classroom still has notes on the chalkboard from the last lesson.

The challenges of exploring the abandoned Emerson School were similar to Horace Mann High School, but were greatly intensified by inclement weather. The sky deluged the building to the point where some stairwells were inaccessible due to intense water flow. The ground floor of Emerson is set below the earth, so all water flowing within the building pooled in the ground level. The heavy cloud cover also shrouded the building in a cloak of darkness, which made setting up shots even more time consuming. The massive thunderstorm briefly subsided, only to be followed by stifling humidity. Then the storms returned in full force and set off tornado alarms. For a few moments before leaving the sun decided to peek through the clouds.

The building itself, which is on the National Register of Historic Places, is massive in scale. Wirt’s philosophies put into practice are immediately apparent when navigating the structure. The entire building revolves around the central auditorium and branches outwards. Science, math, language, music and other classrooms are easily identifiable by the decaying instructional material left behind. Even though the school had closed as recently as 2008, it felt as though Emerson was a generation behind. The only real modern artifacts found were unused textbooks still securely bound in dry storage areas. Each classroom seemed to harken back to an education generation that was no longer relevant to the modern classroom. Newspapers from decades past, Apple II computer equipment, floppy disks, vinyl records, lithographed secular songbooks and grade punchcards were stashed away all throughout. Some classrooms were filled with graffiti, while others still bear the final lesson on the chalkboard.

While considering the history and artifacts discovered on the whole Emerson can be compared to a tragic lifespan. A youthful Emerson was once daring, innovative, and eager to try new things. Mid-life struggles weighed heavily on Emerson’s soul and snuffed out the fire. In its waning years Emerson existed as a shell of its former self until finally passing. The century-old new revival style building lies dormant among a neighborhood of low-income housing and overgrown weeds.

Photo: The YouTube generation will never appreciate the educational filmstrip.

In the introduction to this article I asked, “What did I really learn in school?” Although I cannot formulate an answer for the reader, I feel that sharing what I have learned from exploring Emerson is educational. While studying for my instructor’s license I became intimately familiar with the Supreme Court ruling in Brown v. Board of Education and its followup cases mandating the end of school segregation. I feel cheated that my grade and high schools boiled the segregation issue down to a base pair. It is convenient to teach that the northern United States was more tolerant and accepting of African-Americans. When the test comes it is easy to remember which bubble to fill in. As a white middle-class male I have never given the issue much weight before. In my adult life I find myself undoing a lot of the education that was force-fed. Reading books like James Loewen’s best-selling “Lies My Teacher Told Me” have been monumental in supplementing my understanding of American history.

History, race, decay and photography combined are not on the curriculum at your local school. American Urbex is willing to educate all who wish to educate themselves regardless of race, age, sex, religion or creed. He may not have known it at the time, but Ralph Waldo Emerson actually provides sage advice for the adventurous urban explorer. He says, “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”

Photos: My collection of photos from the Emerson School.

Resources:

City Data – Emerson student and school performance statistics.

Emerson Facts – Short facts about the high school.

Emerson Homepage – The official Emerson website.

Emerson School Class of ’65 – Site dedicated to the graduating class of 1965.

Facebook – Emerson School Alumni group page.

Flickr – Nitram242’s Gary School System set has photos of Emerson.

Google Books – Details the 1927 student protests against integration.

Google Books – Photos of some of the black students that attended Emerson during 1926 and 1927.

Google Books – Has history of Gary’s East Side including EHS. Has photo of Sinatra performing at the local auditorium.

Google Books – Describes the outdoor facilities at Emerson.

Google Books – Describes the machine shop at Emerson.

Google Books – Emerson once garnered so many visitors that it had to restrict visits.

Google Books – Photo of white Emerson students protesting school integration in 1947.

Google Books – Describes industrial work education offered at Gary schools.

Google Books – Dr. Ettinger’s opinions of the training offered at Emerson in 1914.

Google Books – Has original campus plans and building history.

IEQReview – Mold discovered in Emerson in 2008.

Jen Cessa – An account of the black experience in Gary.

Journal Gazette – Announces 2008 closure and restructuring of Gary schools, including Emerson.

JSTOR – Had date of school desegregation policy. Don’t pay $9.99 for the article.

NRHP – National Register of Historic Places listing.

Purdue University (PDF) – Publication with a profile of a 2008 Emerson graduate.

Time – 1927 article on white protests against 24 negro enrollments.

Wikipedia – Entry on Emerson history.

Wikipedia – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wikipedia – Actor Karl Malden attended Emerson.

Infiltration Summer

Infiltration Summer was a massive success thanks to the support of American Urbex readers and donors. Without your help it would not have been possible. I was able to photograph a mansion, a church, two schools, and a handful of industrial locations. I also met two very skilled urban explorers who were willing to share their experiences with me.

American Urbex recognizes the following individuals for having a hand in making this dream a reality.

Mom – For soliciting additional funds without my knowledge.
Brandon Davis – For showing me the ropes around Cleveland and letting me crash on the couch.
Mike Adams – For sharing his insights and impeccable burrito taste with me.

Pierre Ramery, John Sagehorn, Dave Smith, Andrew West, Scott Langteau, Matthew Nicklas and all the donors who wish to remain anonymous. May your generosity be returned to you in the future tenfold. Expenses have been compiled into a spreadsheet for public review.

Thanks to you American Urbex has a wealth of content to work through. I’ll get cracking on editing the photos and research immediately. I want to share the intimate details about the trip so bad, but doing so would blow the cover on what is in store. Until those entries appear please keep an eye on our Facebook, Twitter, and Flickr Group!

King James Jesse Strang

On July 8, 1850 James Jesse Strang was crowned King. To this day he holds the illustrious honor of being the only person crowned as a monarch on United States soil. Six years later he was shot in broad daylight in front of apathetic witnesses.

Let’s rewind…

In February, 1844 Strang becomes a member of the The Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter Day Saints and is personally baptized by founder Joseph Smith, Jr. Within a month Strang is recognized by the church as an Elder and dispatched by Smith to Wisconsin to create a Mormon settlement. The settlement in Voree, Wisconsin is located just west of Burlington in the southeastern part of the state. On June 27 Smith is murdered by an anti-Mormom mob. The homicide creats a power vacuum within the church with three individuals each claiming leadership; Bringham Young, Sidney Rigdon, and James Jesse Strang.

Up to this point Strang’s story appears to be a quintessential early American story. A young man moves west to find his place in the world, adopts religion, and becomes a prominent community figure. This is where things turn weird.

Photo: The Strangite church located in Voree, WI appropriately on Mormon Road.

Strang, being the deeply religious and righteous man that he is, forges a letter supposedly from church founder Smith stating that Strang is to be the successor. To further his claims Strang provides evidence that Voree is to be the next chosen Mormon settlement. In 1945 Strang is guided by an angel to discover three small gold plates buried in the ground. The plates have text etched into them that only Strang can translate. The Voree Record supposedly affirm Strang’s ascendance in the church and reveal God’s plan for the Mormons.

Although ambitious, Strang doesn’t get any points for originality. The whole “finding gold plates and revealing God’s plan” was exactly what church founder Smith claimed years before. Strang’s life is about to get a whole lot stranger.

Brigham Young is eventually chosen to be the head of the Mormon church. Strang decides to break off and form his own sect, which still survive to this day as the Strangites. As non-Mormons moved into the area Strang made the decision to move his followers to Beaver Island, Michigan in June 1848.

No wait… it gets even better.

In 1849 Strang took a secret second wife Elvira Field. Strang concealed their relationship by passing his buxom new bride off as a man named Charles Douglass. The ruse was so convincing that her own family believed her to be missing.

Like all things American, Strang decides to up the ante even further. He’s kind of like Scarface, only with religion instead of cocaine.

In 1850 Strang is crowned “King of the Kingdom of God on Earth.” The ever expanding congregation was able to take control of the island’s raw material and commercial resources. Friction between the gentile population increased when Strang demanded gentiles pay a tithe to the church. Physical skirmishes broke out when the church prevented alcohol from being shipped to the island. After the “War of Whiskey Point” most of the gentile population of Beaver Island moved.

Polygamy is wholeheartedly embraced after Strang takes a third wife in 1852. After this he mandates that all Strangite men have at least two. Wives four and five join the Strang family in 1855.

Word of King Strang’s abberant behavior eventually reaches President Fillmore, who then opens a jar of pickled whup-ass on Strang. Or so he thinks. The USS Missouri is dispatched to bring Strang and his followers to trial for tax irregularities, harvesting from public lands, delaying mail service and counterfitting. Strang, acting as his own lawyer, is able to beat the federal government in open court. He then returns with his followers back to his Beaver Island kingdom.

So King Strang returns victorious and is viewed as a hero by his congregation. Things start to fall apart when the fearless leader brutalizes one of his subjects.

In 1856 King Strang orders David Bedford to be lashed 79 times for allegedly sleeping with his business partner’s wife. The punishment is doled out swiftly and deeply enrages Bedford. Bedford convinces a group of 40 men to ambush Strang on the shores of Beaver Island. During the confrontation Strang is shot three times; one bullet grazes his head, one goes through his cheek, and the last bullet lodges itself in his spine. The group of men then board the docked USS Michigan, where they set off for nearby Mackinac Island. The conspirators are given a mock trial, fined $1.25, and are released.

A dying King Strang is placed as soon as possible on a vessel back to Voree, Wisconsin. He dies from his injuries three weeks later on July 9, 1856. Four of Strang’s five wives are pregnant at the time of his death. He is buried in the Burlington Cemetery shortly thereafter.

The King is dead. Long live the King.

Photo: King Strang’s marker is almost indistinguishable from the rest in the cemetery.