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.
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 ash-trays and that the other "pupils" who were hired "right
off the street", seemed even more apprehensive then we. At least we were already
"insiders" and 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 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, thin and somber middle aged man, he wasn't exactly a good, inspiring
teacher, but, nevertheless, he was 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, definitely helped greatly 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, to the most part, state issued clothing.
The men, Khaki pants and shirts and the woman 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 working on sewing machines. So now we had patches on
the upper left arm of our white jackets.
Keys were issued to all of us. We had to return our linen-room issued
bunch 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 class-room 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 - 12 of us "trainees", some of whom seemed to come right out
of high school and some 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 "old timers" to the class,
we took the lead of our group and walked to Bridgeport Hall. I looked 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 situation and joined
them again! Here I was with a bunch of insecure, 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 mostly just manual labor, now "Patient
Care" became the big issue.
So 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 being
detected by her. 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 re-production of
a famous painting which I had purchased at the Washington DC National Arts
Museum when I lived in Arlington, Virginia. Then there was Bob, who seemed to
have come right out of high-school and Rob from Newtown, who
seemed a little older 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, in the beginning, to somewhat
band together.
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 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 were split up in 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 of all ages 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. Then he continued 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. Yes, it's true, Mr. Bouton, really nice guy though, seemed 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 is quite unusual. The dorms were generally the main attraction for people
to work at the hospital. But it seemed that our class consisted of "home
bodies", 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. So 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 even 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 was still part of our group but due to his afternoon
shift-work, was only occasionally present. Jerry Hatchey was more serious
minded, much like John Kilpatrick, Mike Shangrian and Jimmy Reed, which drew me
more into their little circle. We liked classical music, 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 Grants (I'm not certain) 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 on 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 tiled
small building with only a counter where
young men and boys were busy cooking hamburgers and French-fries. One could get
also 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 sufficient room for people to eat inside. The
hamburgers were small and the meat was a thin patty covered with ketchup, pickle
slices and a little onion, the fries were quite thin but salted and tasty. Not
bad for a curiosity, but nothing to get excited about either. The fast service,
as well as the whole concept, seemed interesting though. After eating quickly
and sipping our hot coffee while smoking our cigarettes, we left McDonald's and
went further into Bridgeport and
then to a movie theater somewhere off downtown Main Street. After waiting in a
short line to get our tickets, we
went inside. Seated in the balcony, we were soon immersed in this fascinating
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, nevertheless, very well done
and acted. In fact, it made a deep impact on both of us and we talked endlessly
about it and Catholicism as well as Religion in general, for many weeks
afterwards. And I credit it with my conversion to Catholicism not to 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 (State) 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"
Go back to Page I of Working at Fairfield Hills Hospital
If you have
worked at Fairfield State (Hills) hospital, especially from 1960 - 1980,
I would love to hear from you. Please don't hesitate to e-mail me at:
discoverer73@hotmail.com
If you remember me, all the better...
I now live in Savannah, Ga.
For more
pictures from Fairfield Hills go to:
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/starsbelowme/album/576460762337228785
Other websites of
interest with many pictures from whom I have stolen some:
http://www.fairfieldhills.com/bldFFH.html
http://www.fairfieldstatehospital.com/
I want to thank those
websites above for their efforts of keeping the memory of Fairfield State
(Hills) Hospital alive
and for the pictures taken after the closing of this once remarkable
institution. And I hope that you, who took and
published these pictures don't mind sharing them with me and my viewers. I have
attempted to contact
www.fairfieldhills.com by e-mail,
but the mail was returned to me as undeliverable. So I figured that
you wouldn't mind my "stealing".