The Osawatomie Insane Asylum (Kansas State Hospital)

     I woke up this morning at the Comfort Inn, showered, shaved and made ready for my trip to Osawatomie. The drive didn’t seem too long, perhaps because I enjoy the trip south from Kansas City. There’s not much traffic, and I can think and prepare a bit before I reach my destination. There is, however, one frustration. It seems that one raptor (hawk) sits atop every three or four telephone poles, just hoping that I will stop, jump from the car, prepare my camera for a shot, and just prior to my fine focusing, the damned bird will fly off to another telephone pole and wait. He’ll do it three or four times, then I give up, and move on. He’d do it more, but I have limited patience. If raptors can smile, I’d bet he’d have a big one for me.
     The sign says three miles to the exit for Osawatomie so I’m close. Osawatomie is a small mid-western town with a main street and two or three cross streets. The population in 2016 was 4,308, just 89 less than 2015. I suspect that as kids grow up here, they migrate to larger metropolises like Ottawa, but, at the surface it looks pretty good to an older guy like me. Yet I like the mountains and CrowMac Creek.
     I found the location of the Battle of Osawatomie, the old church, and..., and.... a movie theater. The gas station is in the suburbs.
     It turned out that I needed to go back to the highway to find the hospital, so after ten minutes or so, I found the road that guides me in. Along the way, I find a cemetery. It’s a dank and dreary place, and the headstones are all alike. They all stand about 25 inches tall, are rounded at the top, and have only a number on them. They are pitted by wind and weather and have black mold in the pitted areas. I tried to count them, but kept being distracted by an intense feeling of a deep dark sadness. And I just couldn’t shake it.
     There they were; the remains of lost and broken lives. They didn’t have families. If they did, their families just left them there to rot. These family members didn’t even bury these patients, leaving that to the hospital..
     If these patients dreamed, their dreams drifted away in the Kansas wind. And this was what was left. One hundred tombstones identified only by a number. Fathers, daughters, aunts sons, mothers? Just forgotten. I took a few shots, and drove off. I didn’t take the time to photograph any buildings or anything else. I couldn’t take any more, and I drove back to the hotel.

P.S. The Osawatomie hospital has been a fairly good place for those who cannot afford a private hospital. In the last two years, the hospital lost its accreditation in some areas. There were many changes, and it is fully accredited now. I’ve no doubt that funding has been an issue, and that is the story I will give Howard at the CrowMac Creek Chronicle.