STATE HOSPITAL AT NORWICH

 

Like most state-owned mental health facilities in America, the State Hospital at Norwich closed a number of years ago. Probably because so many people were using it and we needed to increase the homeless and prison populations. Oh, you think I'm being cynical, do you? You not know. Or perhaps you do.

Anyway, a good deal of the property on which the abandoned buildings sit actually lies in the adjacent town of Preston, a quiet little farming community in which I live. Preston has been wrecking a number of the buildings one at a time, most of which fell into disrepair years ago, and almost all had serious structural an/or asbestos issues. Of course I would like to have seen them preserved, but that's me all over. A few still remain, and the property itself has been sold to the Mohegan Tribe, which operates a little business across the river called The Mohegan Sun. That's actually a bit of a joke; Mohegan Sun is one of the largest casinos in the world. Six miles to the east in another of the largest casino in the world, Foxwoods, operated by the Pequot Tribe. But the Mohegans apparently bought the large parcel on which the State Hospital sat for future business development. I'll bet my property taxes go up exponentially anyway. This IS Connecticut, after all.

 

One of the few remaining buildings on the Preston side of the State Hospital

 

Only a handful of the original buildings still survive, and I have an idea for their reuse. Or, at least for the one pictured above; the others, as you will see, are a bit too far gone.

When I first arrived in Preston five years ago, it was to scope out the area as a future place to live. Apparently I chose successfully, since I'm here now. I stayed in a wonderful bed and breakfast called Captain Grant's Inn, where, for the same price as a halfway decent hotel in Norwich, I had a number of fine nights and was fed very well each morning. The place was always filled with guests and the breakfast table was lively with conversation. I may have described this in one of my first posts at one of my other blogs, Standish Farm Restoration. Google it and see. Anyway, I learned, after a few nights there, that many overnight guests were there specifically to see the ghost, which frequents a certain room. Not believing in such things myself (but wanting to see one anyway), I brought this up with Carol and Ted, the owners. They assured me that their always-filled Inn was so successful because of the ghost; many people came there specifically to get a glimpse of it.

I'll feature their Inn in the next post.

Well, I have stayed in another "haunted" B and B, one called The Myrtles, outside of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and I can attest that its supposed 'hauntedness'  attracted me to it. I'll also admit that it was more than creepy.

'There must be something to this,' I thought after experiencing Captain Grant's. Not necessarily the ghost itself, but the economic viability of having a spook at your bed and breakfast.

Which brings us back to the State Hospital.

What other place could be such a draw to the ghost-hunting crowd than an old mental hospital? I'D stay in one, especially if it was made up to look creepy in the first place, or had tours of the basement. Maybe some sort of play-acting down there depicting lobotomies and shock therapy.

I know, I know. I'm a little ghoulish.

So I propose that Preston restore one of the buildings as a "haunted" B and B. It would take some investment, but I'm sure it would pay off handsomely after a few years. Of course, this will never happen. The selectmen are a stodgy lot, and not exactly imaginative.

Perhaps I should run for office...

This is my favorite surviving building.

"Surviving" is a term to be taken with some salt here. I think it needs a little roof repair.

 

Next post: All About Ghosts!

Just in time for Thanksgiving.