The Philadelphia State Hospital at Byberry: A History of Misery and Medicine
Finally, a comprehensive, detailed history of Byberry. The end result of my decade long obsession with PSH is this 176
page chronological story of one of America's most notorious mental hospitals. Published by History Press, it features 75 images
from the State Archives in Harrisburg, Temple University Urban Archives, the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, the Philadelphia
City Archives, and the Athenaeum of Philadelphia, as well some of my own photos and ephemera. In the years since the hospital's
closure its story has been twisted and demonized, and misinformation has clouded its reputation. For anyone who has shared
my fascination with Byberry, this is the book for you. The story is a wild ride, and I hope it helps to shed light on Philly's
closet of skeletons. It is available at Barnes and Noble stores, and online at Amazon.com. It is also available for Kindle.
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11/22/13- ONLY 7 COPIES LEFT!! Makes a great holiday gift for the one has everything and loves Philly. If you are interested
in a signed copy from me directly, please use the PayPal link below. $23.99 (includes 4.00 S+H)
"ABANDON ALL HOPE WHO ENTER HERE..."
"Byberry", to many Philadelphians, and others throughout the United States,
to those who know it; is a place, an entity, an incarnation that can never truly be erased from memory. Having been so successfully
erased from public awareness, Byberry's real demonic face was seen only by a small percentage of the Philadelphia area's population,
and that number is decreasing. Those who were unfortunate enough to have seen that face, seldom try to remember it. But like
war, a human evil so powerful, corrupt, and crippling to those who find themselves experiencing it, Byberry will always haunt
them. A place where evil was allowed to exist and thrive, a chrysalis of human misery. Justly compared to Nazi concentration
camps, Byberry was perhaps the nation's best example of a free, world-leading society's inability to accept it's own element
of the unknown and undesirable. Byberry was perhaps the nation's worst example of how to deal with this element. Byberry was
"A prison for the well, a hell for the sick". This is the story of Byberry...
website is a collection of information based on personal interviews, archival research, material found inside the buildings,
and thorough exploration of the buildings themselves. Many of its sources can be found in the LINKS section. This is in no
way a complete history, but hopefully it will satisfy the casually interested as well as the devoted historian.
|Female Patients and Staff, 1927
|City of Philadelphia, Dept. of Records, Charles L. Howell, July 1927, Public Works 24564-0-
following is an exerpt from a report entitled "the closing of the Philadelphia State Hospital" by Michael J. Orezechowski:
For more than a decade,
rumors abounded that Philadelphia State Hospital (Byberry) was to be closed. In 1985 and 1986 a series of events took place
that gave rise to questions of negligence, patient abuse, and the deaths of several patients. Other issues that added to the
call for closure of Byberry the reported excesses in the use of chemical and mechanical restraints and seclusion.
All of these allegations helped the then governor of pennsylvainia,
Richard Thornburg, to initiate investigations. The first was conducted by the Blue Ribbon Committee, a group of professionals
and non-professionals hand picked by the Thornburg administration. The second was composed of state employees from various
departments and discipines with the title of supervisor or above. The actual announcement of the closing of Byberry was made
by the newly elected administration of Governor Bob Casey.
Templeton, M.D. on September 17, 1988:
"In May 1987, the Commonwealth
of Pennsylvainia appointed a task force subsequently called the Blue Ribbon Committee to review the operation of Philadelphia
State Hospital, to evaluate its treatment of patients, and to look into allegations of patient abuse"
On December 7, 1987, a press conference was held concerning the closing of the hospital. At this time the media
were informed that the hospital was to be closed permanently by December 7, 1989. The reasons cited were reports made by the
two investigative teams. Reportedly, they had found conditions at the hospital to be "atrious" and "irreversable". The amount
of negligence, and types of patient abuse were intolerable.
|State-made stainless steel spoon
|City-made silver spoon handles (circa 1930's)
|PHMD- (Philadelphia Hospital for Mental Diseases) stamp on spoon handle
Benjamin Rush Park- a Byberry burial ground?
The recent interest in redeveloping Benjamin Rush Park has brought about new questions about byberry's long forgotten
past. The new plans for the proposed changes at the park show an area near the end of Burling avenue marked as "Historical
Burial Ground", and no disturbance is to come of this area.
The area south of Burling avenue and west of Townsend road (or where Townsend road used to be, now part of several
industrial buildings) was the northeastern extremity of the first tract purchased by the city in 1903, the Keigler tract (see
page 4 of the by-line). The area was the edge of the city's property boundary, and was very closely touched by the Poquessing
creek. It makes perfect historical sense that this is where thousands of patients are still resting in the earth. Questionability
is given to the fact that Benjamin Rush Park, despite several rehabilitation efforts, has remained completely undeveloped.
Byberry under city control (1906-1938) never had a mortuary or morgue and no mention has ever been heard of a cemetery or
burial ground for the patients, although it was always commonplace at a mental hospital to have a cemetery for the patients.
This has remained a huge mystery about byberry.
The period in question is byberry's initial years under city control. In the 1920's and 30's, inspection after inspection
revealed that the hospital's records system was was almost non-existant. Patients records seldom contained even a photo of
the patient, making indentification practically impossible. Therefore it is almost certain that records of deaths and burials
during the period of city control do not exist (if they ever existed at all). During state control (1938-1990), a much better
records system was kept. The city's potter's field, near Dunk's Ferry and Mechanicsville roads, which does not appear on maps
until the 1940's, was where the state inturred most it's patients. But the city's terrible track record of illegal disposal
of it's buried dead speaks volumes in a case like this, and the fact that Benjamin Rush Park is still owned by the state draws
questions. Is the park like Franklin Playground in Kensington, where it was known, until their removal, that bodies from the
"relocated" Franklin Cemetery were still under the earth.
According to the Friends of Poquessing Watershed and the book "A History of Byberry and Moreland", there
is a very small burial ground at the end of Burling avenue that was donated by the Byberry Friends Meeting in 1780 to the
township for the burial of "colored's". It is only about a quarter-acre in size and is basically a small patch of
trees, the dead below long since forgotten. This is probably what the park map is referring to as "historical burial
ground", although the location isn't quite correct. But it brings up the long asked question: "Where were byberry
patients buried when they died?" It has always remained in question where the dead were buried. Are they still trapped
in the earth beneath where they once lived?
***Special thanks to Alison Bennington for contacting the Friends of Poquessing Watershed and shedding some light on the
The Mysterious Byberry Tombstone
Even after byberry is gone, she's still revealing disturbing, long-buried secrets about her
past. In the summer of 2009, during a visit to byberry's almost erased former landscape, Alison and I came upon a very
ornate tombstone in a pile of dirt and sediment where W-6 building stood. It stood about three feet high and a little over
a foot wide. We noticed two others and began getting very curious. The inscrpition on the first stone read: ALBERT KOHL Feb.
1878- Apr. 1879. The second stone had only four letters, widely spaced: J.S.K.P. The third stone was illegible. They were
all covered in dirt as if they had recently been unearthed. This was fascinating to us and we decided we had to find out who
Albert Kohl was and how his tombstone ended up under W-6 building. The closest cemetery was the friends burial ground, who's
stones were all very small and modest. The land where the west group was built had had only two previous owners, the Carter
family, and Thomas Dyer, neither of whom had a cemetery there. It had always been farmland until the west colony was built
there beginning in 1941. This was going to require some research...
Albert Kohl was the first of four sons of Jacob and Mary Kohl of Northern Liberties. The Kohls were a
working class family. Jacob was a tailor. Albert was born in the Kohls' featureless, two story rowhouse at 1227 Callowhill
street on February 17th, 1878. His cause of death is listed as "infant fever", most likely Typhoid, which claimed the life
of many young children in the late 19th century. He was buried at Glenwood Cemetery, near 24th and Diamond in the Strawberry
Mansion section of the city. How did his tombstone wind up all the way up on the city's northern border, almost 19 miles away?
Well, good ol' Philly-style corruption, thats how.
Glenwood Cemetery was laid out by the Odd Fellows of Philadelphia in 1852. It was approximately 90 acres
and contained mostly members of the Odd Fellows until the 1880s, when the diversity of denominations began expanding. The
Odd Fellows sold the property to a private company in 1894. It became the resting place of thousands of philadelphians and
contained many large, ornamented gravestones. But by the early 1920's, as industry closed in around Glenwood Cemetery, it
became a less and less desirable final resting place for many of the area's residents. By 1928, with a reported "overpopulation"
(the owners had begun triple stacking bodies in many areas), the cemetery had pretty much gone bankrupt. The property sadly
sunk into ruin and became a dumping ground by 1935. In 1938, the city launched a campaign, after years of complaints from
neighbors, to remove the bodies and clear the land at Glenwood to build a new public housing project, which still stands on
the site today. The bodies were to be moved to the "Glenwood Cemetery" in montgomery county that was to open by 1940. The
Republican Machine was in full swing and the newly elected mayor, Bernard Samuel, began his graft-filled term. Work began
on Glenwood in 1939 and was completed by 1944 for returning servicemen. The Vare Machine's construction contracts were already
in place, and the Machine's contractors, W. Mark and Co. naturally received both jobs. It's not hard to imagine what happened
next. The foundation pits for the new buildings at byberry were the perfect place to dump tons of unwanted materials from
other job sites. No one would ever find out, at least, not while they're alive. This is only one of several cases in Philadelphia
during the term of mayor Samuel that cemeteries were moved illegally and cheaply. Glenwood cemetery contained over 30,000
graves, and the new Glenwood Cemetery only records 22,000 graves moved from the old Glenwood.
Alison contacted the new Glenwood Cemetery in Marple township and they had no record of an Albert Kohl.
The closest thing they could find was a stone saying "baby albert". One can only hope that this actually is Albert Kohl, and
that he is not in the dirt where the west colony at byberry once stood. Who knows how many more stones are still shamefully
buried under Philadephia State Hopital.