Uncovering the Dark Secrets of Pennhurst Asylum

Some believe that tragedy and trauma can leave behind an energy that haunts the living, perhaps manifesting as ghosts, which serve as links to the past. Imagine someone enduring something so painful that the strength of their emotion ‌imprints into a place for all eternity. 

When you type “Pennhurst” into a Google search bar and hit enter, the results you receive will be inundated with horror, despair and injustice. While I knew some of the basics heading up to Spring City, Pennsylvania last night, I didn’t know the gory details of what happened at Pennhurst after it opened in November 1908.

The Diamond State Ghost Investigators have visited Pennhurst many times, but Sunday night was my first investigation there. I went into it feeling uneasy because, to be honest, my head space hasn’t been clear. I’m grateful to Gina for letting me hitch a ride. The conversation on the way to our investigation was mostly lighthearted and laughter filled. Although, when Andy is in the car you’re guaranteed a myriad of clever sound effects, anecdotes and head-out-the-window antics. Matt and I sat in the back in hysterics for much of the drive. I went into the investigation feeling much lighter, thanks to my ghosty peeps.

Before I dive into what my (sub)team stumbled upon, let’s get some history.

A building on lower campus at Pennhurst

The history of Pennhurst

There is quite a lot of land and several buildings associated with Pennhurst, originally known as the Eastern Pennsylvania State Institution for the Feeble-Minded and Epileptic. The campus is located in Spring City, Pennsylvania, near the Schuylkill River.

There is an upper and lower campus. The lower campus is comprised of sixteen buildings. In 1930, the first buildings on the upper campus, otherwise known as the female colony, were completed and named Pershing, Buchanan, Audubon and Keystone. Capitol Hall was erected after World War II along with Devon constructed on lower campus.

Pennhurst was intended to house no more than 500 residents, but it was overcrowded from the start. By 1957, there were more than 3,500 residents and not nearly rough staff to manage the caseload. Overall, about 10,600 people lived in Pennhurst over its 79 years of operations, with half dying there.

According to the Pennhurst Memorial & Preservation Alliance, the facility was a product of a self-proclaimed “progressive” era when the solution to dealing with disability was forced segregation and sterilization. 

During eight decades of continuous operation, Pennhurst evolved from a model facility into the subject of tremendous public scandal and controversy before the federal courts ordered it closed and the remaining residents moved elsewhere

Pennhurst was known for using restraints and tranquilizers on patients as control measures in lieu of adequate staffing. Staff said that patients were restrained for their own protection, such as when a patient charged into walls headfirst. The use of restraints and tranquilizers was a controversial issue, and in 1977, U.S. District Judge Raymond J. Broderick ruled that the conditions at Pennhurst State School violated patients’ constitutional rights.

The ruling led to the eventual closure of the institution in 1987.

The Bad and the Evil

We may never know all of the true details of what happened at Pennhurst. Many of the patients would have been unable to provide testimony. The Pennhurst Longitudinal Study, conducted by the Assistant Secretary for Planning and Evaluation (ASPE), principal advisor to the Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, stated that 86% of the patients were severely or profoundly disabled and slightly more than 50% were non-verbal.

The articles I have found have been stomach-turning and as I’ve typed up this article I have had to take several breaks to compose myself. To start, all of the articles refer to the patients as mentally retarded. The use of the word “retarded” is considered hate speech because it offends people with intellectual and developmental disabilities as well as the people that care for and support them. It alienates and excludes them, and emphasizes the negative stereotypes surrounding people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. 

But, we have to remember that it wasn’t until 2010, that President Barack Obama signed “Rosa’s Law,” which changed “mental retardation” to “intellectual disability” in U.S. federal law. It blows my mind that it took so long to come to that conclusion and begin the process of changing this societal term.

Multiple kinds of therapies were offered from group therapy, to physical therapy, art and music therapy. Job postings that circulated in the Philadelphia Inquirer in the 1920s reveal that they were looking for assistance with electric and hydrotherapy.

Fatal punishments and neglect

On March 23, 1937, an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, talked about the “boxing glove murder” of a 15-year-old boy named Eugene Statler. According to the report, an attendant named William McGraw beat the boy’s head against a wall while wearing boxing gloves because McGraw said the boy had stolen 95 cents. Witnesses said that Eugene pleaded with McGraw to show mercy.

On July 28, 1949, The Philadelphia Inquirer Public Ledger, reported on the death of a 35-year-old inmate of Pennhurst, his name was Lawrence Kern. Lawrence’s Mom did not believe the autopsy from Pennhurt so she hired a private investigator. The findings from the secondary autopsy showed the cause of death to be a brutal beating.

Yet, it wasn’t until 1968 that investigative reporters released a documentary about the heinous crimes happening within the walls of Pennhurst.

In 1969, articles were published in both the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Wilmington Evening Journal, about the death of a 14-year-old girl named Mari Bonli, who was found bleeding from the mouth after drinking a lye-type detergent. During the investigation, other patients were questioned, and they said they saw another patient feed the detergent to the girl. Investigators claimed that they could not take the word of mentally challenged patients. Staff allegedly had nothing to say.

The girl’s mother flew in from Anchorage, Alaska asking for additional help with this matter because she accused the institution of negligence. Her daughter had been a patient for eight years which means she was admitted at the age of six years old. Mari’s mother claimed that her daughter had also been bitten, scratched, and beaten by other patients over the years.

By the time the courts were admitting involvement, the news coming out of Pennhurst was beyond deplorable.

Bringing the darkness to light

Two Supreme Court cases on behalf of Pennhurst residents, as well as a 1968 television news exposé by journalist Bill Baldini called “Suffer the Little Children,” helped bring these issues to light. Warning: The video linked here is traumatic and could be triggering.

In 1974 the United States Supreme Court joined a lawsuit that eventually lead to Pennhurst closing down.

The good news is that the court cases that came out of Pennhurst led to serious disability justice reforms. The 1977 trial court decision recognized a constitutional “right to habilitation” and ordered the complete closure of an overcrowded, dehumanizing facility. The case also led to the development of the “Pennhurst Doctrines,” which established that states could not discriminate against people with disabilities and that people with disabilities had the right to live in the least restrictive environment possible.

Overall, the closure of Pennhurst helped to bring justice to disabled patients who had been mistreated and neglected at the facility. The legal action brought attention to the mistreatment of disabled patients at Pennhurst, helped to recognize the rights of disabled patients to receive appropriate care and treatment, and promoted community living arrangements for disabled patients.

Pennhurst today

Today when you visit the Pennhurst website, you’ll find information about tours and haunted houses. There are documentaries and many videos on YouTube about this location. Several well-known paranormal investigator teams have spent a significant amount of time researching these buildings. 

The Diamond State Ghost Investigators have scheduled many private tours. I’m proud to say that our team isn’t looking to sensationalize Pennhurst. Our visits are not about drawing attention to our name. We don’t go in looking to stir up trouble, we go in intending to listen.

The Pennhurst Museum, which is located on the same site as the Mayflower Building, is open to the public and is one of only three physical museums of disability history in the United States.

In May 2023, Pennhurst Asylum hosted the ParaCon Paranormal Convention, which featured famous ghost hunters. Our invite got lost in the mail 😉 

There is an interactive horror summer camp experience called the Pennhurst Horror Campout. This “campout” offers a unique and immersive horror-themed camping experience for adults. Campers can expect to be engaged in various quests and challenges while exploring the haunted grounds of Pennhurst Asylum.

There is also a haunted house attraction and it has drawn criticism from some who believe it trivializes the suffering of those who lived there. 

The tunnels

At the end of the night, I did pull a few people along with me to head down into one of the tunnels. Sometimes I surprise myself when I venture into the unknown without fear. Especially into a dark tunnel when I’m typically not a fan of tight spaces.

The tunnels of Pennhurst are a network of concrete tunnels that run under the campus, connecting buildings both above and below ground. The tunnel we had access to on Sunday could be accessed from concrete stairs in the center area between buildings. Kyle and I ventured down and had a running commentary of the graffiti on the walls. From biblical quotes to stencils of the Joker, the sentiments upon the concrete covered the length of the tunnels from start to finish. When we got to the end, Kyle peered through a broken window in a door and saw a collection of old wooden chairs piled up. Yours truly had to get on her tippy toes to see. The only strange phenomenon we came across was when we both heard a dog barking. 

Were there dogs ever on the grounds of Pennhurst? My research has been inconclusive.

Findings from my group

Quaker Building

There were five of us in the Quaker basement, Ken, Laurie, Jeff, Trey and myself. We sat on uncomfortable dusty chairs in the dark for a good 30 minutes. Trey had set up a laser grid, Jeff set up his camera and infrared light. Ken and Laurie had their REM pods out. I had, well, a grumbly stomach and an audio recorder for an EVP session.

When I did find the courage to speak up while in the basement, I didn’t ask a question, I made a statement. “We have heard about the horrible things that happened here. We’re sorry for what happened to you.” It can’t fix anything, but if there were any spirits listening, I hope they realized it isn’t a game or an adrenaline rush for us. It’s an opportunity to tell their story. 

We received a lot of activity during this time. Energy shifts, temperature shifts, movement in the grid and both REM pods were active. At times the REM pod sounded like morse code or a telegram getting submitted. The colors lit the ceiling in red and blue, while surrounded by a bright green grid. I haven’t seen the footage from Jeff, yet, but I am curious to see what it was able to capture. (On that note, I’d like to extend a HUGE thanks to Jeff and Trey for essentially being our camera crew for the night. They are a great duo and our team is extremely lucky to have them.)

Devon Building

I know it’s August, but this building was abnormally hot. It was hot and humid and there was no air movement.

If spirits are anything like me, they stopped moving and interacting altogether due to the sheer heaviness of the air.

We didn’t really get any activity in this building, though we asked. We spent time in the Candyland room, which I bet is creepier in the daytime because the walls are painted like the classic children’s board game with giant lollipops. Weird. I held the go-pro camera during this building and can only imagine how that appears. I so desperately wanted to see something, so the camera would catch my reaction. Alas, it will be a lot of close-up shots of my eyes darting back and forth trying to adjust to the dark. 

Members of the team had experienced shadow figures, touching, and overwhelming sensations of something being very close to them in years past. This year, at least for us five, we didn’t experience that. There were cameras set up in the building while no one was there though and perhaps they will capture something we won’t be able to explain away or debunk.

Mayflower Building

Don’t people normally save the best for last?

The basement of the Mayflower building was interesting. There were a lot of toys. There was a room with what looked like church pews and bookcases. The toys, for the most part, were modern. People brought them to try and get young spirits to interact with them. I tried kicking a ball around, but the spirits weren’t feeling it. 

We did hear voices, and shuffling and the temperature sensor went off a couple of times, but in a few locations, I was pretty certain I was hearing the Pennhurst staff who were stationed in the welcome center elsewhere in the building. The voices were too clear and seemed to be in conversation. I could be wrong, but my gut says I was near some kind of vent or the staff had walked near the basement stairs.

When we got to the third floor, well above the welcome center, everything changed. There are very few places I have been where the activity just didn’t stop. My sub-group has a TON of activity on this floor and at the end of the night when we all compared notes, our findings were the same. There is a strong presence on the third floor of the Mayflower building and it is intelligent.

A tricky and intelligent haunting

The camera crew dream team of Trey and Jeff

I think there was more than one entity up there. We heard distinct footsteps in multiple rooms and down both halls. When the REM pods went off, Ken would ask if the spirit could step away to turn it off. The sounds would stop. He would prompt the spirit to interact with the REM pod again and it would. This went on for quite some time. At the other end of the hall, Trey, Jeff and I were listening and trying to find where the footsteps were coming from. Sometimes it was a few solid steps and other times it was a full-on sprinting sound. 

I wandered off to the stairwell to make sure the staff weren’t coming upstairs. I stood there for quite some time and the only thing I heard or saw was a moth. When I left the stairwell I walked back down the hall towards Ken and Laurie. I peeked in each door, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark so I could see if any windows were open. Perhaps the running footsteps were noises coming from outside the building, but no one was out there. We were all stationed in our separate places doing investigations.

Seeing double

It was after my stairwell and door check that Trey called my name. 

“Christy, were you just in the first room down here?” 

I hadn’t been.

I was down the hall with Ken and Laurie, there were about five rooms in between us. When I left the stairwell I had walked the opposite way past the door in question. He asked if I had gone inside the room and walked across it. I hadn’t gone into the room. He went into the empty room to act out what he had seen. Apparently, the figure looked like me, wearing the same jeans and gray shirt. He said I was walking quickly from one side to the other, but upon further inspection of the room, he said that he thought the room extended further based on how quickly I was walking toward where a wall existed. Trey was visibly shaken by this experience.

I fully intend to haunt people in my afterlife, in the kindest, most thoughtful way ever, but as far as I know, I’m alive and kicking. Could Trey’s eyes have been playing tricks on him? Do I have a doppelganger? Was I doing some sort of witchy astral projecting? 

Only the spirits left behind at Pennhurst will ever know.

We hear you

The conditions at Pennhurst were truly awful for the patients who resided there. The institution operated under deplorable conditions, with chronic overcrowding and widespread patient abuse. It is important to acknowledge the pain and suffering the patients endured and to ensure that their stories are not forgotten. 

The preservation of Pennhurst and efforts to bring awareness to its history allows for a deeper understanding of the injustices that occurred. The spirits of those who suffered and died in this institution deserve an opportunity to be heard and treated fairly, even in death.

If you dare, check out our paranormal evidence vault to hear some of the most compelling evidence of ghosts and other supernatural phenomena. We will be adding more as we review our recordings.

Unveiling the Enigmatic Past of the Augustine Inn

The Augustine Beach Hotel, now known as the Augustine Inn, has witnessed its fair share of paranormal experiences. With its long history, it is not surprising that there have been reports of ghostly encounters and unexplained phenomena. 

In 2020, the owners of the Inn invited DSGI to provide a bit of paranormal “entertainment” after dinner. Little did the patrons know that some entertainment is not for the faint of heart.

The location of the Inn is important because of its proximity to the water, wildlife refuge and relative seclusion. This area is south of Port Penn on Delaware Route 9, though the street address is Saint Augustine Road in Middletown, Delaware. Route 9 was one of the primary paths of the Underground Railroad. Its purpose was to aid enslaved individuals in their quest for freedom within the United States.

Diamond State Ghost Investigators president Gina Dunham always tells us there is no sense in trying to understand any sort of paranormal phenomenon without knowing the history of where we are investigating. Sometimes half the team goes into locations without knowing the history, while the other half is familiar. This makes the evidence debrief interesting in the end to be less biased.

The History of Augustine Beach Hotel

Augustine Beach Hotel in 1910.
Photo of Augustine Beach Hotel taken in the 1920s
Augustine Beach Hotel in 1920.

It was built around 1814 by Adam Diehl, a successful cattle farmer who arrived in the Port Penn area in the 1790s. In my research, I’ve read that Diehl named the hotel after Augustine Herman, a notable figure in Delaware’s history. But…. I have also found information saying that Augustine Herman’s son, Casparus Herman, acquired the land and named the area after his father. Casparus built a manor house on the site, which was later replaced with the Augustine Beach Hotel in 1814 by Diehl.

Herman, a Bohemian explorer and cartographer, agreed to map the region for Lord Calvert in exchange for a 20,000-acre estate. Bohemia Manor’s estate touched the Delaware at its eastern end and included Augustine Beach. An interesting factoid regarding the Herman family is that they were not from the United States. They came over from the New-Netherlands/New Amsterdam. He became the first naturalized citizen of Maryland by order of Cecil Calvert, Second Lord Baltimore. The Naturalization Act included him, his children and his brother-in-law. His wife had died earlier. He remarried once in the States.

A historic marker sign for Augustine Beach

The Land near Augustine Beach

I’ve found information about Augustine Herman trading with Native Americans, but I have to wonder about the land on which he settled. Herman originally came to the U.S. on a diplomatic mission to New England to resolve concerns about rumors of a Dutch & Native American alliance against the English. Knowing that much of the Lenape Tribes of Delaware had their land stolen, I am curious if this land is part of that betrayal.

Augustine Beach is located in the ancestral homeland of the Lenni-Lenape people. The link shared states that Augustine Herman was given 30,000 acres, not 20k, and that part of it was indeed tribal land. Given the fact that the land was given to Herman by someone other than a tribe member, my guess is the Lenni-Lenape community did not freely give their land away.

Dancing, bathhouses and race tracks

Image: Augustine Beach with Steamer Clyde in background, Delaware Public Archives, RG 9015-028-000 Caley Postcard Collection. View the source at Delaware Public Archives(This link opens in another tab/external link).

For a good forty years, the Augustine Beach Hotel was said to be a top-notch resort area. People hosted parties, took class trips, held church picnics and went out dancing during the hotel’s open season. Many visitors arrived on the steamship Thomas Clyde from Philadelphia.

For those local to the area, regular print advertisements discussed first-class meals and dancing. The ad shown here was published in the Newark Post on August 12, 1914. You can see it highlights the fine bathing and new sanitary bathhouses. There was a time when bathhouses were considered critical for public health, an amenity considered necessary for people who wanted to host big, lavish beach parties. They provided convenience, hygiene, and social space for visitors to enjoy their time at the beach.

Newark Post 1914

Despite changes in management, the advertisements continued to feature dancing. One such ad, found in the Smyrna Times on November 29, 1945, advertised a 5-piece orchestra performing every Saturday night. The establishment’s patrons were known to be of high social status and were able to enjoy various attractions such as a miniature steam engine train, a merry-go-round, and a shuffleboard.

Smyrna Times 1945

An article published in The News Journal in 2007 quoted then-92-year-old Thelma Bendler, who remembered a hurricane in the 1930s with flood waters so deep that she could dive into the river from the porch of the Augustine Inn.

When the article was published, Bendler’s neighbor, Bill Marshall, 67, remembered when there was a stock-car track near the Augustine Inn, where men would race their 1937 and ’38 Fords.

The 1940s brought more change to Augustine Beach: A boardwalk and an amusement pier filled with rides.

Death by the beach

There are many conflicting reports about the deaths that took place at this location over the last century. Some of these are riddled with gossip pertaining to gangs, bootleggers and underground railroad lore. I’ve heard stories about little girl ghosts and cantankerous previous owners, but finding the details has proven fruitless.

There are confirmed cases of drownings at the beach and bodies being washed ashore. Even a confirmed case of a man who died from being poisoned. Charles Vile, age 25, was a passenger on a steamboat heading to the resort on July 24, 1916. Reports claim he got on the boat healthy, and by the time they reached the pier, he was violently ill. He died the following day. The article says he had several beers on the excursion, and the theory is that the beers are how he was poisoned.

Published in the Evening News Wilmington Daily Commercial on August 2, 1915.

One news article published in the Evening News Wilmington Daily Commercial on August 2, 1915, shares the death of Mr. Yearsley, who died due to a “concussion of the brain” received after being knocked down by a bicycle in the front of the hotel. Though only two paragraphs, the article paints a rather racist picture of what happened. This is a stark reminder of how difficult it is to report on past events because the media’s portrayal is heavily, openly biased the further back you go in time.

A follow-up article published in the Middletown Transcript on August 4, 1915, said the cyclist had not been traced. His obituary was published on August 7 in the Transcript, and it stated that Yearsley had worked at the hotel, specifically in charge of the bathhouses, for 32 years.

Published in the Middletown Transcript on August 7, 1915.

Historical Research Matters

When doing historical research for paranormal investigations, it’s always interesting to find stories like these. Here we have a man who devoted decades of his life to working at the hotel. He was then killed outside the hotel, and the person responsible was not caught. Samuel Yearsley is a name I would ask about while investigating.

The property’s history is crucial to understanding anything paranormal occurring on the grounds.

By 1918, the Augustine Beach Hotel was leased by the government and turned into quarters for the United States Army officers connected to the new Port Penn Plant.

In 1963, the state Board of Health closed the beach due to bacterial pollution, and the hotel was sold by sheriffs sale.

This property was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1973.

Current Day

The Inn’s history is fraught with mystery and despair, hope and freedom, celebration and death. There are likely countless stories we’ll never know about. Perhaps other stories are told by word of mouth, which we can’t prove with documentation.

While the property hasn’t offered room rentals since the 1940s, it has operated as a taproom, bike bar and a VFW post before shutting down and undergoing renovations, turning it into an upscale restaurant.

I learned that a previous bartender, Harry Pressell, Jr. ran the establishment as a biker bar before passing in 2010. He was a member of ABATE of Delaware, a Motorcyclists’ Rights Organization. His obituary tribute wall makes him sound well-loved by his biker tribe. There is an inactive Facebook page that had posted about Harry pretty regularly. One post shows a plaster mask sitting on the mantel of a fireplace. Some say he died in front of this fireplace, but I have not found published evidence of that. The Facebook post says he used to sleep near this fireplace, so it’s possible he could have passed here.

Dining Area of the current Augustine Inn

Augustine Inn Seafood and Chop House

In 2020, the owners of Augustine Inn Seafood and Chop House wanted to entertain those visiting for food and drinks. The ambiance inside the establishment was warm and inviting. They often had live music performed by local talent. They served delicious food and, at times, offered the opportunity for folks to eat, followed by a paranormal investigation. The Diamond State Ghost Investigators were happy to have the chance to investigate this property. We only wish the walls could talk upstairs and in the basement.

The owners we worked with closed their doors to bring the same great food, service, and happy hour to the town of Middletown in the form of Metro Steak and Seafood.

I read that the Inn opened again under new management in October 2022, but I don’t know about the new owners.

Is the Augustine Inn Haunted?

If you try searching the Googles for evidence of ghosts on Augustine Beach or at the Inn, you’ll not find much. The paranormal history of St. Augustine, Florida, is documented pretty well, and it dominates the results. I can only speak of my limited experience

In the basement, I recall seeing shadows moving through our laser grid. We use grids to detect movement and shadows that may not be visible to the naked eye. Sometimes when rooms are incredibly dark, standing back and watching a grid is helpful. Since the darkness can play tricks on your eyes, you should use more than one type of tool while investigating. Several of the guests we investigated also used dowsing rods. We typically also use recorders to pick up sounds we might not hear until later when listening back, but in this case, recordings wouldn’t have been helpful. You need to have a quiet space with minimal interference in the environment if you want a true EVP session with a recording.

According to Delaware Today, the Augustine Inn is one of Delaware’s most haunted places. With dozens of people (who had just imbibed) in small spaces, conducting a proper investigation is hard, so I can’t say we have enough evidence to vault away for this location.

With its long history, it is not surprising that there have been reports of ghostly encounters and unexplained phenomena. Visitors and staff have reported hearing footsteps, seeing apparitions, and experiencing strange occurrences

I feel confident in saying this property is haunted. It has seen too much.

DSGI Visits Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

Sometimes when strangers find out that I am a paranormal investigator or my daughter freely tells them that I talk to ghosts, haha, they look at me like I’m crazy. I’ve got news for you. There’s a whole lot of crazy in the world, and believing in the paranormal should be at the bottom of that list.

In 2021, the Diamond State Ghost Investigators (DSGI) traveled to Weston, West Virginia, for a private overnight paranormal investigation.

History of Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum (TALA), also known as the Weston State Hospital, is a former psychiatric hospital located in Weston, West Virginia. The hospital was built between 1858 and 1881, but it didn’t start operating until 1864. While that seems like a date from a long time ago, it’s unnerving when you learn that the hospital didn’t close until 1994. Some patients who were treated at TALA have been relocated to other locations but are still alive today.

March 7, 1936 (page 1 of 26). (1936, Mar 07). The Philadelphia Inquirer Public Ledger (1934-1969)

The asylum is a National Historic Landmark known for its Kirkbride design, common to asylums of the early 19th century.

The history of TALA is one that turns my stomach. I find it upsetting to think that doctors experimented on people with brain health issues with methods that they hoped would “fix” them. In addition, hundreds of people were admitted to the hospital for reasons that don’t make sense. A husband could commit his wife for reasons such as reading too many seductive novels or having extreme PMS. *note my eye roll* Men and women, boys and girls of all ages, stayed within those walls. Some of the children were born and died there.

The hospital was established with the purpose of providing respectful treatment to patients with mental health issues. They had dining rooms for patients to eat off fancy China plates. Patients were able to move about freely and even go outside to exercise. Unfortunately, as more and more people were admitted and the hospital surpassed maximum capacity, things went downhill. A place built for hope quickly became a place filled with despair.

Too many giggles and too many people

The Philadelphia Inquirer article shared in this post is from 1936. It references an 18-year-old patient who apparently had long-lasting giggle fits. The response to stop this was a “pelvic disorder surgery” performed by Dr. J.E. Offner, superintendent of the Weston State Hospital. Just imagining a young girl unable to stop her giggles in an asylum environment freaks me out.

At its peak in the 1950s, the hospital held 2,600 patients, more than ten times the number it intended to house. Doctors and nurses confined difficult patients in open-air cages to make room for those deemed to have easier cases. The asylum became a training ground for experimental lobotomies courtesy of Dr. Walter Freeman. His “ice pick method” involved inserting an ice pick into the patient’s eye socket and using a hammer to sever the connective tissue in the prefrontal cortex of the brain.

An onslaught of activity

The amount of activity we encountered in only about 10 hours of time was something I probably should have expected, but I didn’t. The energy was that of confusion. You could feel eyes on you at times, with almost wonderment. Like patients wondering who you are, why are you there? We voiced that we wanted to hear their stories, weren’t there to hurt them, and just wanted to talk. At times the investigators, with their headphones on listening for EVPs were hearing so many voices at once that it was impossible to make out what the voices were trying to say. Other times we heard what I consider to be “residual energy imprints.”

Residual energy in paranormal investigations refers to the theory that certain locations can retain and replay energy from past events, resulting in repetitive paranormal activity.

The same things happened over and over again, repetitively over time at the hospital and we hear those imprints. For example, we heard the sound of heels coming down the hall, which makes sense if nurses were walking from room to room. For the most part, I felt anxious. I didn’t feel scared, because the energy I felt wasn’t threatening, instead, it felt a little confused or lost.

Not fear

And then, we investigated the 4th Floor. I realize we were there to make contact, and we did, on every floor, but the entities on the 4th floor didn’t want us to leave once we got there. I was at the back of the line when we were heading out, and that’s when I was scratched. It felt hot, it stung my mid to lower back, and I lifted my shirt to show the team, and they saw a fresh scratch.

I’ve been touched before during investigations, and my hair has been played with, but I have never been hurt. I was upset and shaken when we returned to the break room to regroup with the full team. It wasn’t until after the fact did I really think about what happened.

I’d like to believe that the patient who reached out in the hall just didn’t want us to leave. Maybe it had taken all of his or her energy just to get up to where we were sitting, and then we got up and left.

On our way, turning into the hallway, something ran up behind us quickly and pushed us forward. At the time, we thought it was another teammate playing a prank, but when we looked, there was no one there. Maybe the same person who didn’t want me to leave saw that we were coming back and pushed us forward. I don’t know, but I’d like to think that had been the thought process. I want to believe the patients we encountered while investigating TALA were not malicious or evil.

Saying hello to Lilly

Much like how I grew up, I share my views of the paranormal with my kids. My two oldest boys are skeptical. I appreciate that they should absolutely be skeptical. It doesn’t stop them from wanting to hear about all the investigations. My youngest daughter is a wide-open book who wants to experience everything. I will need to be sure to simmer her down a bit before she ever goes out on an investigation because she needs to protect herself. However, before leaving for TALA, she asked me to say hello to Lilly. When we came across Lilly’s room, we sat in there for a bit, we didn’t get too much activity, but it was the only time the music box played music. I know it was Lilly, and I’d like to think she heard me say that a little girl in Delaware cares about her and says hello.

The lobotomy recovery room

A team member heard a disembodied voice growling close to her ear, while two others saw tall shadow figures in the lobotomy recovery room. We had REM pods set up in the room, and when we asked if anyone was with us, the lights turned on in response. Sometimes the lights moved in succession as if an entity were moving closer to us and backing away. I can imagine patients waking up in this recovery room and not knowing what happened or where they are. Someone may have growled due to desperation to communicate, but the surgery they underwent prevented them from doing so

Facts and vaults

And here’s a random factoid for my fellow gamers out there. The asylum is actually in Bethesda Game Studios’ Fallout 76, it is called Fort Defiance.

DSGI has not yet posted evidence from TALA to our digital vault. You can find evidence from other places posted. Head to our main navigation or click here to see our DSGI Evidence Vault.