Suffer the Little Children

be ready. Okay, So, if you haven't heard Haunted Road before, the first half, we delve deep into the history of a haunted location, and then the second half I interview someone who has knowledge of the hauntings there and so we talk about the paranormal experiences. So, without further ADO,

let's get started, Okay. In some ways, Penhurst Asylum was a paragon of progressive thinking about how to treat people with cognitive disabilities, giving them social support and a safe place to live where they could be protected from the dangers of a judgmental society presented to their health and safety. To many who had nowhere else to go, it promised to be a dream scenario, but the dream was well a dream. Penhurst may have opened with the best of intentions,

but it didn't end up that way. And it's seventy nine years of operation, the asylum was characterized by the harshest of patient mistreatment. It's more than ten thousand residents were subjected to what the Philadelphia Inquirer described as medical experimentation, punishments, and constant threats to physical and psychological well being. Residents were trapped, forced into labor against their will, unable to leave, out of control of the most basic elements of their

own lives, and that was the adults. Children under five years old were kept in cages, lying in their own filth for days on end. As one newspaper put it in nineteen seventy two, Penhurst Asylum was the shame of Pennsylvania. Many inmates stayed there as long as thirty five years, and some never left. I'm Amy Bruney, and this is haunted road. Penhurst Asylum originally opened in nineteen oh eight as the Eastern Pennsylvania Institution for the feeble minded and epileptic.

According to the Penhurst Memorial and Preservation Alliance, it was once seen as a model institution. At the time the asylum opened, people with mental illness and cognitive disabilities were called defectives and were dealt with in horrific ways like forced segregation from society and even sterilization. As the Alliance described in the eighteen hundreds, defectives and other dependent deviant groups such as aged paupers and the sick poor were

grouped together and sold to the lowest bidder. Built in Spring City, Pennsylvania, Penhurst promised to be the antidote to that kind of treatment. Before the asylum opened, the state legislature organized a commission in nineteen o three to get a sense of the needs of that underserved population. They found nearly four thousand residents who were either incarcerated or were in poorhouses or hospitals for the insane, who were all in desperate need of actual care for their conditions.

Penhurst was designed to hold five hundred people, with room for expansion, but the need far outweighed the space. The asylum was overcrowded almost from the day it opened. Within five years of admitting its first patients. Penhurst was under pressure from the legislature to admit immigrants, orphans, and criminals

the state did not know how to handle. Pennsylvania created a Commission for the Care of the Feeble Minded, who pushed those with cognitive impairments into Penhurst to prevent them from cro creating and passing down their genes, calling them a menace to the peace. Immigrants designated as feeble minded immigrants were deemed unfit for American citizenship, and the state

demanded they be to admit it into custody. In report to the state, Penhurst's chief physician quoted Henry H. Goddard, a leading eugenicist, by saying, every feeble minded person is a potential criminal. The general public, although more convinced today than ever before that it is a good thing to segregate the idiot or the distinct imbecile, they have not as yet been convinced as to proper treatment of the defective delinquent, which is the brighter and more dangerous individual.

As the Philadelphia Inquirer reported, by nineteen fifty seven, the institution had more than thirty five hundred residents with just six hundred staff from grounds keepers to aids. That number rose to forty one hundred patients by the early nineteen sixties.

The newspaper further reported that by the nineteen sixties, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania was appropriating more than two million dollars a year for Penhurst operations, and the facility's residents were impressed into a forced labor system the Supreme Court would rebuke as peonage or involuntary servile labor. Residents had lost their fundamental freedoms, including the right to leave or to

exercise the most basic of life choices. A local news station aired a documentary in nineteen sixty eight called Suffer the Little Children that laid bare the horrible mistreatment at Penhurst. Among the many horrifying revelations in the documentary was reporter Bill Baldini's discovery that large American zoos were spending more per day to feed their animals than the States spent

on the people in the asylum. As the Philadelphia Inquirer described it, the documentary shattered Philadelphians and other Americans' easy complacency and blind indifference to what had been occurring for decades behind institutional walls. Far removed from public scrutiny. Baldini later said that he had trouble keeping his camera crew on the documentary shoot because they were literally getting sick

from what they saw. Matt Lake, Rusty Tagliarini, and Mark Moran wrote about Penhurst for Weird New Jerseys, saying on the flickering monochrome televisions of the time came images of full grown hands and feet bound by straps to adult sized crib beds. Inmates of the institution were shown rocking, pacing,

and twitching. Many were severely disabled, either mentally or physically, but others were quite lucid and coherent, but withdrawn into themselves because of overstimulation of the senses in the loud and sometimes frightening place. When one patient was asked by the interviewer what he would like most in the world if he could have anything he wanted, the sad and

withdrawn reply was simply to get out of Penhurst. The documentary caused public outcry and spurred widespread calls for changes to the treatment of and constitutional rights for the mentally disabled. Baldini later told NPR about the horrors he saw in the asylum. Think of a ward of infants and children from the ages of six months to five years old. He said, there are eighty of them in metal cages. These people were literally lying in their own feces for days.

According to Weird New Jersey, probably the most chilling scene showed one of the hospital's physicians describing how he dealt with a particularly vicious bully who had brutalized one of his other inmates. He described how he had asked one of his colleagues which injection he could use to cause the most discomfort to a patient without permanently injuring him. Then he proceeded to administer that injection to the bully.

That was a common punishment in Penhurst. Doctors would use what they called harmless but painful injections as recourse for bad behavior, even on children. In nineteen seventy, medical sociologist Jim Conroy arrived at Penhurst to research the developmental disabilities. As he told NPR, I saw a place with thirty seven hundred people in it that was built for far far fewer, and I saw things that I will never forget.

In nineteen seventy two, local newspaper The Mercury called Penhurst the shame of Pennsylvania, describing seventeen hundred human beings stored away in crumbling warehouses. The urine's stench of decades soaked so deeply into the walls and floors that it can never be washed out. About half of the more than ten thousand inmates housed in Penhurst died there, largely due to patient mistreatment and neglect. In nineteen seventy four, patient Terry Lee Halderman filed a complaint with the state on

behalf of all other Penhurst residents about their treatment. The complaint alleged that the residents live in inhumane and dangerous conditions, are subjected to unnecessary physical restraints, are given unnecessary and dangerous medication, are consigned to lives of idleness and because of lack of habilitative programs, and are subject to numerous

physical injuries resulted from a lack of adequate supervision. The complaint further alleged that this treatment caused Halderman and her class to deteriorate and regret emotionally, intellectually, and physically, and that they were being denied due process and equal protection of the law and inflicted on them cruel and unusual punishment unimaginably bad treatment came to light as a result of this case. Patients who were in crisis could go

days without seeing a psychologist for treatment. When they were in a crisis situation, they would most likely be restrained through either physical or chemical measures. People could be bound to a bed or a chair, or sedated with unusually high doses of psychoactive drugs. According to the Penhurst Memorial and Preservation Alliance, psychotropic drugs at Penhurst are often used for control and not for treatment, and the rate of drug use on some of the units is extraordinarily high.

In nineteen seventy eight, the court ordered that Penhurst be closed and that its remaining twelve hundred residents be provided living arrangements and support services. To accomplish this, special Master was appointed to supervise the arrangements. The asylum was to stay open until that work was finished. In nineteen eighty one, Time described the place as having a history of being understaffed, dirty,

and violent. The hospital was on its way to closing, but for the patients it must have seemed like the hell was never coming to an end. By nineteen eighty three, Penhurst had six hundred forty patients, who had been there an average of thirty five years at that time. The Department of Justice indicted nine present and former aids for assaulting and abusing patients, including beating patients, some of whom were confined to wheelchairs, and forcing patients to assault each other.

A study following patients released from Penhurst was ordered by the court as part of the hospital's closure. Its results were released in nineteen eighty five. According to the Philadelphia Inquirer, the researchers followed one thy one hundred and fifty four people who lived at Penhurst and found that none became became homeless or incarcerated. They tended to live at least

six years longer, and fourteen percent became more independent. Almost all said that they were better off outside of Penhurst. Despite a reported nineteen percent increase in services, the cost of taxpayers went down by fifteen percent compared to funding Penhurst. In nineteen eighty seven, the last patient left Penhurst, and

the asylum was finally closed in the nineteen nineties. Part of the building briefly served as a veteran's home, but was sold to a private developer in the early two thousands. Under the Penhurst Memorial and Preservation Alliance. It was added to the international Coalition of Sites of Conscience, a worldwide network of historic sites specifically dedicated to remembering struggles for justice.

In twenty ten, part of the campus was reopened as a seasonal Haunted attraction, which immediately started pulling in as much just two million dollars annually from people eager to experience the place. But given the Asylum's dark history, many locals in those previously affiliated with Penhurst objected to that use, especially since the attraction misrepresented much of what happened there

in the past. Reporter Bill Baldini, whose documentary brought the asylum's atrocities to light, and Jim Conroy, the medical sociologist who spoke publicly about his experiences there, said they believed the site shouldn't be trivialized as a haunted house, but rather be a memorial to the past. As Diana M. Kadovich wrote for the National Council on Public History, the first version of the Haunted Asylum was as bad as anticipated.

A fictional doctor and his minions were shown experimenting on asylum inmates in a minor nod to the history of Penhurst's patrons. Were able to view artifacts retrieved from the property, notably a dentist's chair an electroshock therapy machine. Yet historical fact and shock fiction were poorly separated, and visitors were left to wonder which was which. The council quoted disability studies historian Sarah Hanley Cousins is saying, I like a ghost story as much as anyone, but the patients who

lived at Penhurst weren't spooky spirits. They were human beings with complex lives. In twenty seventeen, ownership changed and the new owner and general manager created an environment intended to be more respectful to the disabled community, As Diana Kadovich wrote, aware of the unintended consequences of a conflated story, they changed features of the attraction and empowered a group of

disabled performers with creative control. More than half of the performers, called the Haunters, identify as disabled, a few even half personal histories of institutionalization. This new Haunted Asylum turns the original plot on its head. The Haunters each assume a fictional identity, and the inmates conspire to take over the asylum from the professionals. The fictional doctors nurses and the visitors become the new inmates. Today, Penhurst offers daytime history

tours and overnight paranormal investigations. While many buildings on the campus were deemed unsafe and have been torn down, others are maintained through proceeds of those tours. Jim Ansbach, founder of the Shore Paranormal Research Society, which regularly investigates Penhurst,

says the asylum is rife with paranormal activity. Weird New Jersey wrote that the group has conducted several large scale investigations of the old asylums many buildings, and documented a variety of evidence of paranormal activity, including photos, videos, recordings of voice phenomena, and personal encounters with spirits. Among the recordings are the sounds of disembodied voices uttering things like go away, I'll kill you, were upset, and why did

you come here? An unknown male states I'm scared, while an invisible female asks why won't you leave? In the Administration building, investigators have said they've picked up disembodied voices and the sounds of toilets flushing though there's no running water or the building. And other buildings, people claim to

hear children's voices and EVPs of distressed adults. According to Shore, a firefighter police officer Anna Marine All saw a woman in an old style nurse's uniform in the Limerick Building. Investigators claim to have been touched in the Mayflower Building and the Tinycum Building, and to have seen shadow figures manifest and dissipate in the Quaker Building. These shadows include what appeared to be a girl with long black hair, a hunched over presence with long dangling arms, and figures

poking out from behind obstacles. Doors and a rocking chair have moves on their own, and objects like pride bars and brass pixtures have been observed being thrown by unseen forces. And investigators have also been physically harmed. According to Shore, one was shoved from behind hard enough on a stairway to leave a deep red mark, and another was scratched

on the arm. Now I have investigated Penhurst a number of times, including once on live television where I proceeded to drop an F bomb while millions of people were watching. So here to talk more about that experience, as well as many others, are two of my dear friends who have also both spent quite some time investigating the asylum. Mister Aaron Sagers and mister Adam Berry. Welcome my friends. Oh no, I didn't turn your microphones on it and want them to actually hear you.

happen here. It's super haunted. How cool. And then I actually took the time to watch that documentary it's on YouTube and you see what happened there and it is appalling. So but so, just talk a little bit more, like Arin, you've investigated there many times over the years. What first brought you to Penhurst?

city of shame. It really is a city, and it has such a dark legacy that it makes you angry when you go there and you're aware of what took place there, and the fact that it also was taking place in my lifetime. I was ten years old when it closed, so it's this recent history and it's disgusting. But yeah, the very first time I think I went there was for the Haunted House, and the first time I invested get it was part of an event.

investigated something like that. But I think for us, we were we didn't know what to expect, right, and you and I we had we were in Philadelphia, so we had just started investigation. This is probably a month into us working together, that's true, So we were still sort of getting our feet wet on you know, how we interact with each other and what experiences we will have. But I know that the activity that we had there flipped our brains in side out because it was it

was really incredible activity. But at that point, I think we didn't know what to do with that information.

blind and death, Like what are you doing? But we were in that section, and I remember being on the third or fourth floor and she and I you know, were slowly walking through to get our bearings, and we started asking questions and then to the left of us, down the hallway, you could hear what sounded like a footstep and a drag, so it was like step step, like step dry and she and I looked at each other like what the actual is that? And we were

looking down this hallway nothing was there. And then almost instantaneously after that, we heard what sounded like clawing, like scratching and clawing on wood. And at this point, I think they it's on television, but you can go back and watch. But she and I are like on top of each other, were and like back to back, and we're sort of trying to like figure out where the sound's coming from, what's happening, And we knew that the scratching.

It was like a scratch, clawing, scratching, like trying something, trying to get out of something.

in the ceiling. And I think we even used the thermal imaging.

to go anywhere but here. It's kind of like sometimes when we investigate jails, I feel like sometimes the inmates are like, it's this kind of you know, self imposed sentence, like I'm supposed to be here and I can't leave, And I would not be surprised if that's what's happening there.

You are dehumanized, oh completely, And when it reaches that point where you're no longer considered human, it makes it all the easier to abuse and hurt and break these people.

like they couldn't speak. It wasn't like they were emotionless, like they were completely able to have a conversation. They were calm. It's the weirdest thing. And you're like, why are you there? Like it just didn't make a lot of sense.

thinking about it. And if you notice we went back to that same spot if you watched that live show, and we were using the flashlights for communication, and we had set three flashlights on the mantle, which was in the room just past where we heard the scratching down the hall from where we heard the foot dragging, and we would set them up right like straight up, and you know, live television, anything can happen, and we like to do the hardest techniques on live televis because we're like,

you know, we don't We're going to use it. We believe in it. We're going to see what happens and if it works great on live television. We started having a conversation with someone in the space who knew we were there, who was answering our questions yes, no, I don't know, on command, on live television in front of millions of people watching. And it was because we had humanized what was there and we genuinely wanted to have a conversation. I actually forgot the cameras in that moment.

I forgot that we were on live television because we were making such a connection, right.

flashlights in a row. The only reason we've stopped using this technique is since Maglight introduced their new like led lights, it just doesn't work the same anymore, and slowly but surely, every single one of our old maglights has burned out. If you want to help us with that maglight if you're listening.

that was a very controlled situation. So we would use three flashlights and we would first establish they actually wanted to interact using the flashlights, and then when we were it was clear that they could answer us, we would have them pick which flashlight wanted to be yes, which wanted to be no, which was like I don't know, and this is happening on live television, and it was like clockwork, like we were having this entire conversation through

these lights. I think we were on screen for like a solid twenty to thirty minutes doing this, which is like unheard of in these live shows. But it just wouldn't stop. And whoever was there was able to talk through the lights, recognize the lights. Who like, that's a universal signal, right, everybody can speak through lights, and they wanted to talk. They were eager to talk.

Not an animal. It was like somebody had taken it and slammed it, and we knew we weren't welcome in that moment. We were like, we're not welcome.

building names. I think they call it dietary. It's like in the back of the grounds and the session was coming to a close and people are doing an investigation and somebody walked by me, and then standing next to me was two of the volunteers that assist with the investigation. Someone walks by me and they walk into another room, and this is sort of the free time of the investigation. Time winds down, It's like, okay, time to wrap it up,

move everybody to the next location. And I'm like, oh, let me go grab the person that moved into that next room over there, and the volunteers like, yes, someone walked in there. Walk into this room, no one's in there, walk into this adjacent room and there is no other exit, and myself and the volunteer, like I know, we both

physically saw someone walk in here. And instead against this pack wall was a very like distinct shadow, kind of like hunched against the wall, and it reminded me in that moment of the final scene of the Blair Witch Projects, which I want to tell you all that I'm mister Brave at every moment but that was a moment where I was Nope, the f out of there.

you see it in a different way. And I remember we got to actually take the time and really stand in a spot without cameras and like look, and at times it felt really creepy and intense, and then at times there was this weird, like destroyed, destructed beauty about it.

But then you could see what kind of life it had, Like the beds were there, all lined up still, like people had been in these little sections and cobby holes, and you just knew what kind of like you know, little town or life this place had exactly.

And I think that really not only helps us as far as kind of gaining interaction, but I think it helps them. They You know, you walk in as a living person and you're showing them respect they might not have ever had in life to begin with. So I think it's important that these places are explored. I think it's important that we learned the history that happened there

before we ever got there. And I think that you know, regardless of how anyone feels about the paranormal field, there are places like this that are being remembered because of us, and so we have great responsibility. And that includes where we're going tonight as well, since we're going to Waverly Hills. So I want to thank my friends here for joining me today, and I want to thank all of you for this, and I hope you enjoyed it very much.

I'm Amy Bruney and this was Haunted Road. Haunted Road is hosted and written by me Amy brune with additional research by Taylor Hagerdorn and Cassandra day All. This show is edited and produced by Rima El Kali, with supervising producer Josh Thain and executive producers Aaron Menke, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. Haunted Road is a production of iHeartRadio

and Grim and Mild from Aaronmanke. Learn more about this show over at grimanmild dot com, and for more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.