Michigan Visit: A New Baby and a New Book

My busy self had to take a week off and visit my new grandson in Michigan and see how new Mama and Daddy were faring. It was my first born’s first born, so I was thrilled to finally get a chance to hold him in my arms. Meet Carter Jeffery Schultz:

What a warm cuddle butt he is. With his little round head and bottom and wiry arms and legs, I had to nickname him Mr. Peanut. There is nothing that touches a grandmother’s heart quite like holding a newborn grandchild.

My favorite picture of father and son.

With Daddy working weird hours, Mama and me got to do a little sightseeing. We had lunch at Fireflies on the water watching the canoers paddle by and baby was such a good child. It was his first excursion to a restaurant and did very well. Helped Mama’s confidence to get him out and about, also. She’s such a good little mama.

Another day, when Daddy was home, we went to a wine tasting at a place they now call The Commons. This was my kind of place.

It’s a historic 1884 hospital complex now a sprawling shopping & dining spot with arboretum & hiking.

The Traverse City State Hospital of Traverse City, Michigan has been variously known as the Northern Michigan Asylum and the Traverse City Regional Psychiatric Hospital. It is the last Kirkbride Building of Michigan’s original four left in the state. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1978 and designated a Michigan State Historic Site in 1985. It was a deary day with sprinkling rain when we went which lent a more mysterious feel to the place…almost haunting.

One little tid-bit I learned while visiting is that roughly 80% of the women there from the 1930s-60s were menopausal or post-meopausal and thier husbands had mistresses younger than them…hmmm.

Northern Michigan Asylum was established in 1881 as the demand for a third psychiatric hospital, in addition to those established in Kalamazoo and Pontiac, began to grow. Lumber baron, Perry Hannah, “the father of Traverse City,” used his political influence to secure its location in his home town under the supervision of prominent architect Gordon W. Lloyd, the first building, known as Building 50, was constructed in Victorian–Italianate style according to the Kirkbride Plan. The hospital opened in 1885 with 43 residents.

Arial View of the complex

Under Dr. James Decker Munson, the first superintendent from 1885 to 1924, the institution expanded. Twelve housing cottages and two infirmaries were built between 1887 and 1903 to meet the specific needs of male and female patients. The institution became the city’s largest employer and contributed to its growth. In the 1930s three large college-like buildings were constructed near the present site of the Munson Hospital parking deck and the Grand Traverse Pavilions.

Long before the advent of drug therapy in the 1950s, Munson was a firm believer in the “beauty is therapy” philosophy. Patients were treated through kindness, comfort, and pleasure, and beautiful flowers provided year-round by the asylum’s own greenhouses and the variety of trees Munson planted on the grounds. Restraints, such as the straitjacket, were forbidden. Also, as part of the “work is therapy” philosophy, the asylum provided opportunities for patients to gain a sense of purpose through farming, furniture construction, fruit canning, and other trades that kept the institution fully self-sufficient. The asylum farm began in 1885 with the purchase of some milk cows and within a decade grew to include pigs, chickens, milk and meat cows, and many vegetable fields. In the 1910s-30s, the farm was home to a world champion milk cow, Traverse Colantha Walker. Her grave is at the end of the dirt trail between the farm and the asylum.

While the hospital was established for the care of the mentally ill, its use expanded during outbreaks of tuberculosis, typhoid, diphtheria, influenza, and polio. It also cared for the elderly, served as a rehab for drug addicts, and was used to train nurses. Kinda creepy, huh?

I was most interested in the tunnels that honeycomb the undergrounds. These were used during winter months when there was eight to twelve feet of snow on the ground so the patients could wander around and the caretakers could get from one building to another without freezing to death. (BTW…they are filled with spiders.)

The inside of the buildings are room after room of quiant upscale boutiques, coffee shops, and eateries. The upstairs are condos where people live year ’round or summer over. It was both fun and interesting on many levels. Much nicer than the tunnels, but I don’t know that I could live there.

Inside The Commons

There was a wonderful restaurant inside, called Stella’s, and we had a lovely dinner of veal sweetbreads, thinly sliced fried pig ears, fried artichokes and a cheese tray for starters. That was followed by entrees of wild boar, lamb and scallops and topped off by a decadent chocolate desert with a crispy cookie and creamy mousse with whipped cream and shaved chocolate…oh yes, we did have another delicious bottle of Cab-Sav. A nice glass of Taylor Fladgate port rounded off the meal.

While touring the buildings and the grounds my mind wandered back to the 30s-50s when patients lived and worked there. As any good author, by the time I left I already had the makings of another book in my head.

There is already so much in my head, I don’t know if this lifetime will grant me what is necessary to finish such a piece, but it’s worth a try.

Right now, I’m focused on marketing my zany little Florida regional crime novel with Richard and Brandi which is on pre-order HERE with the paperback available HERE.

Perhaps Richard and Brandi can go back with me to Traverse City and use those tunnels to uncover some heinous crime that occurred there. I’d jump at the chance to revisit for more research.