WORKING AT FAIRFIELD HILLS HOSPITAL
IN NEWTOWN, CONNECTICUT.

Jerry Haffke Remembers:

Part IV

Going Back To School!
 

Here is my "Certificate". The original is much wider and I couldn't get it scanned correctly
because of it's width. Please notice the date of September 1967 on it. No, it didn't take me
four years to complete my training. Something, in those days quite common, interrupted my training,
-being drafted into the U.S. Army. I had been classified 1A, 'immediate availability,' by the Selective Service Board
in Arlington, Va. wile already at the hospital in June of 1963 and received some kind of notification of my
"impending doom", some time in early December 1963
....but that is another story to follow later in this reminiscence.

A Picture From September 1963 - I'm Standing On FFH Farmland

Psychiatric Aide Training Begins

 Having our peaceful existence in the central-linen room taken away from us, Pete and I weren't happy when we reported for our first day in class, in September 1963, to the third floor of Shelton House.
 The classroom with blackboard and tables to seat four students each reminded us too much of our school days in Berlin to feel comfortable and at ease.
The only difference was that there were plenty of state issued green metal ashtrays in the room, and that the other 'pupils' who were hired 'right off the street,' seemed even more apprehensive then we were.
 At least we were already 'insiders' who knew, more or less, what to expect.
Heck, we both were already wise to so many things at Fairfield State Hospital and knew all the keys, buildings and tunnels, that the other pupils looked up to us with some respect, if not admiration.
At least, that is what it seemed like to us.

 Mr. Robert 'Dick' Bouton R.N. was our teacher for most of the classes.
He would later become Director of Nursing after Mrs. Adams retired in the early 1970's.
Being a tall, lanky and somber middle aged man, he wasn't exactly an inspiring teacher, but he was, nevertheless, amiable enough to make us feel more comfortable after the first few hours.
 When he told us, after introducing himself and giving a short general orientation to what the classes would consist of, that we could smoke in class, that definitely helped to brake the ice...
The new people, which meant everybody but Pete and me, were led over to Jimmy Stewart, our friend from central-linen, to receive their white pants and jackets.
 During this time Pete and I were told to go back to the dorm and get all our white jackets to have Psychiatric Aide patches sown onto them by a friendly black woman named Doris in the basement of Canaan House.
She was in charge of mending clothes for patients who wore, for the most part, state issued clothing.
The male patients wore khaki pants and shirts and the female patients simple dresses.
 Those clothes had to be maintained and Doris, in the Canaan House sewing room, was in charge of quite a few female patients doing repair-work on sewing machines...

 So now we had patches on the upper left arm of our white jackets.
Keys were issued to all of us. Pete and I had to return our linen-room issued large bundle of keys to personnel and were there issued a much more limited set.
Signing off our old keys, we had to sign again for our new ones.

 Coming back to the classroom after taking care of clothing and keys, we were told to go for a half-an-hour lunch break to the Bridgeport Hall cafeteria.
There were about 10 of us 'trainees,' some of whom seemed to come right out of high school. Others were older, perhaps up to their forties... A motley looking group indeed, trying to make the best of an awkward, if not frightening situation.

 Since Mr. Bouton introduced Pete and me as 'having worked there before' to the class, we took the lead of our group and walked everybody to Bridgeport Hall. I glanced longingly at our linen room crew seated so comfortably and relaxed at their table.
How much I wished that I could have just forgotten about my new position and joined them again!
...Here I was with a bunch of insecure and anxious strangers, taking some kind of dubious leadership position, while I myself felt just as anxious and confused as my new 'class-mates' did.
 Sure, Pete and I had come to meet a lot of people working at FSH already, but we met them delivering linens to their wards which is quite a different basis from having to work with them and having to take orders from them.
Before we did just manual labor, now 'Patient Care' and so many other things became important issues.
 
 Our group was seated at two or three tables in the dining room, getting to know each other over the good and plentiful food.
...There was one girl, from Shelton, Ct. who looked so pretty to me that I felt myself blush whenever I looked at her.
..And I did look at her as frequently as possible, without her or the others noticing it.
Her name was Kathleen (I forgot her last name) and she looked to me just like the picture by the desk of my room, which was a reproduction of a famous painting which I had purchased at the Washington DC National Arts Museum when I lived in Arlington.
...Then there were Bob and Rob, who seemed to have come right out of high-school, from Newtown and a few others who have faded out of my memory through the many years that have passed since then.
I only recall that there were definitely some older classmates who tended to somewhat band together in the beginning.

 Upon returning to our classroom from lunch, Mr. Bouton introduced the class to Mrs. Adams, Mrs. Schwaller and Mrs. Dieffenbacher as well as to Donald Bolser R.N. who would also teach some classes.
 After Mrs. Adams finished with a little 'pep-talk,' emphasizing the importance of our new job and the training we were about to receive, we took a break by getting some fresh air on the top platform of a large, metal fire escape situated right adjacent to our classroom.
Then Mr. Bouton returned to give us a more detailed oversight as to how our classes and practical training would go.

We then were split up for future assignments to different buildings, men to male buildings and women to female buildings.
 Pete and I were assigned to Fairfield House ( where the most severely disturbed patients lived).
This building had it's female equivalent in Bridgewater House where a couple of our female trainees were assigned.
 
 Mr. Bouton explained that those assignments were only temporary and that we all would rotate buildings during the program. He further explained to us that some days we would have classes all day and other days we would have some days of complete ward assignments and other days split between the two.
 
 Showing us a weekly schedule which he said could be found on the bulletin boards not only of Shelton House, but on every ward and in every building where trainees were assigned, so that we could always verify and check for our assignments on a daily basis.
...But the first couple of weeks, he re-assured us, were to be class-room only.
After that he continued with elementary issues and finished the day with a little lecture on the history and importance of Fairfield State Hospital.

 After wrapping up his lecture, Mr. Bouton told us to go home and relax with one of his characteristic wane smiles.
-Well, the story goes that he had been an undertaker before coming to Fairfield State Hospital and that he had worked for his R.N. at Wingdale, NY, State Hospital (later Hudson Valley State Hospital) where one could work and take classes in a specially designed program...A program just like Fairfield State once used to have, but which was later, before my time, disbanded.
...Mr. Bouton was really nice guy though he managed to always look like a somber undertaker.
Nature certainly hadn't given him any charisma at all and people didn't take to him easily...

 Thus dismissed, we said a fleeting 'so long' to our new classmates and walked back to Norwalk Hall.
I don't recall that any of them lived in the dorm, which was quite unusual.
The dorms were generally the main attraction for people to work at the hospital. But it seemed that our class consisted of people who were either married or still living at home with their parents.

 Back at Norwalk Hall the usual 'gang' of old-timers were sitting in the lounge room, talking, smoking and observing.
Pete and I felt great having survived our fist day in class and we talked happily and self-satisfied to our old friends.
Of course they didn't share our enthusiasm and instead gave us an ear-full of 'horror stories' relating to our future work as Aides on the wards.
 Not wanting to listen to negative opinions, however sincere and true, we didn't stay long and found an excuse to go to our rooms.

 We had, over time, developed our own group of younger people living in close proximity on the second floor.
There was Jerry Hatchey, Mike Shengrian, Jimmy Reed and some others for me, while Pete used to eventually hang out with a different group of friends.
 John Kilpatrick, though older, was still part of our group but due to his afternoon shift-work, was only occasionally present.
Jerry Hatchey was serious minded, much like John Kilpatrick, Mike Shangrian and Jimmy Reed, which drew me more into their little circle.
 We liked classical music, musicals, good movies, books, serious conversations and knowledge in general, while Pete liked 'pop music,' parties and lighter entertainment and thus found a different group of friends...

 After taking showers we split up. I went with my group to eat and Pete with his.
 After eating there, Jerry Hatchey suggested taking a ride to the newly opened, but still mostly unfinished, Trumbull mall. I had never been there and always enjoyed taking a ride anywhere, so I seconded his suggestion instantly, Mike and Jimmy didn't want to go and so Jerry Hatchey and I ended up going alone.

 Driving on Route 25 towards Bridgeport, the Trumbull shopping center, an early indoor mall, wasn't very far from Newtown.
 When we got there, we found that only center stores were open already but that the most interesting stores, the anchor stores on both ends, Korvettes on one end and Read's on the other, were still not quite finished.

 We soon got bored with the few open stores and Jerry suggested to go and see a new movie, 'The Cardinal,' which had just opened in Bridgeport.
This sounded good to me and we left the mall to drive further down Route 25 which eventually merged into Main Street in Bridgeport.
 
 On the way Jerry said we should stop at a newly opened hamburger joint, called McDonalds. The place was already a sensation and offered a new concept of eating out.
 Hamburgers were 19 cents and French-fries about the same. We marveled at the idea of getting hamburgers so cheaply and pulled into the place between Trumbull and Main Street in Bridgeport.
 There were golden arches and a clean looking small building with only a counter where young men and boys were busy cooking hamburgers and French-fries. One could also get cheeseburgers and coffee as well as soda, but nothing else.
 We each got a hamburger, fries and coffee and had to take our food back to the car. There were no tables nor was there sufficient room for people to eat inside.
 The hamburgers were small and the meat was a thin patty covered with ketchup, pickle slices and chopped onion, the fries were quite thin but salted and tasty.
The cheap food was not bad for a curiosity but nothing to get excited about either.
The fast service, as well as the new approach to fast food, seemed interesting though.

 After eating quickly and sipping our hot coffee while smoking a cigarette, we left McDonald's and went further into Bridgeport to a movie theater somewhere off Main Street downtown.
 After waiting in a short line to get our tickets, we went inside.
Seated in the balcony, we were soon immersed in this interesting movie depicting the career of a priest climbing up the hierarchical ladder to eventually become a Cardinal of the Roman-Catholic church.

 By today's standards, one would have to admit that it was Catholic propaganda, but it was very well done. In fact, it made a deep impression on both of us and we talked endlessly about it and about Catholicism in general for many weeks afterwards.
...And I credit it with my conversion to Catholicism not too much later on the first of January 1964.

But that needs to be told later.
 

Back in my bed in Norwalk Hall.

Here are some pictures which I had found on the internet in 2003.
They show part of the dining room and various parts of the huge kitchen
in Bridgeport Hall. Pictures were obviously taken after the closing of Fairfield Hills Hospital.

 
On the left is a dining room (of which there were three--one for employees--one for male patients--and another for
female patients) I am not sure whether the dining room shown (without tables and chairs) is the employees dining room,
or one of the patients dining rooms, since they all looked similar in size and layout.
On the upper right is part of the massive kitchen with some equipment left. The picture on the lower left shows part
of the bake shop with baking ovens. Everything was "made from scratch" there from bread to rolls, cakes and pies.
The picture on the lower right shows where the many industrial cooking stoves were once located below the massive
steam exhaust canapé.

Picture taken in one of the employees toilets
Funny, I remember this sign quite well.

Continue to page V of 'Working at Fairfield Hills Hospital'

Return to Part I
Working at Fairfield Hills(State) Hospital - How I came to Fairfield Hills Hospital - Summation of my
immigration story - Arlington, Virginia and Washington, DC - Meeting Pete in Danbury, Connecticut - Mrs. Morrell's
Guest House - Working at Danbury Hospital - Hearing about Fairfield Hills Hospital - Getting a job there - Mrs. Adams
and Mrs. Schwaller - Central Linen Room - A Listing of Former Employees at FHH--People I Knew and Loved -