Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, Weston, West Virginia

Perched atop a rolling hill in Weston, West Virginia, stands a colossal structure that whispers tales of a troubled past. The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, formerly known as the Weston State Hospital, is a formidable testament to 19th-century architectural ambition and the evolving, often unsettling, history of mental healthcare in the United States. Today, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is more than just a relic; it is a place where history, architecture, and the paranormal converge, drawing visitors from far and wide.

The story of this imposing edifice begins in the mid-19th century, a time when societal attitudes toward mental illness were undergoing a slow but significant shift. The Virginia General Assembly, recognizing the need for a dedicated facility for the mentally ill in the western part of the state, authorized the construction of what was initially called the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum in the early 1850s.

The design of the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was heavily influenced by the principles championed by Dr. Thomas Kirkbride, a prominent figure in the field of mental health at the time. Kirkbride, superintendent of the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane, advocated for a specific architectural style known as the "Kirkbride Plan." This plan emphasized creating a therapeutic environment that prioritized natural light, fresh air, and patient privacy. The asylum was to be a place of healing, not merely confinement.

Following Kirkbride’s principles, the design incorporated long, rambling wings arranged in a staggered formation. This ensured that each section of the building received ample sunlight and ventilation. The layout also aimed to provide patients with a sense of personal space and minimize feelings of overcrowding, a crucial aspect of the Kirkbride philosophy. The asylum’s location in a rural setting further contributed to the intended therapeutic atmosphere, isolating patients from familiar faces and external stimuli. Even receiving gifts or mail was discouraged, furthering the isolation.

Construction commenced in 1858, initially relying on the labor of prisoners and enslaved individuals. As the project progressed, skilled stonemasons from Europe were brought in to ensure the quality and precision of the building’s intricate details. The chosen architectural style, a blend of Gothic and Tudor Revival elements, added to the asylum’s imposing presence and reflected the era’s aesthetic preferences for grand, institutional structures.

However, the tranquility of construction was shattered by the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861. Work on the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was abruptly halted, and the partially completed structure and surrounding grounds were repurposed as Camp Tyler for the Union Army. The southern wing, which was nearing completion, served as barracks for the troops, while the main foundation was transformed into a stable for their horses. The strategic location of the asylum made it a target for Confederate raids in 1862 and 1863, temporarily dislodging the Union forces.

Following West Virginia’s admission to the Union in 1863, the hospital was renamed the West Virginia Hospital for the Insane. Even after the war, challenges persisted. In 1864, Confederate raiders further hampered progress by stripping the Asylum of all food and clothing intended for its first group of patients.

Despite the setbacks, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum finally opened its doors to patients in October 1864. The first patient was a housewife suffering from "domestic trouble," a vague and telling indicator of the broad range of conditions that led to institutionalization during that era. Early logbooks reveal a diverse array of reasons for admission, ranging from understandable ailments like grief and brain congestion to more questionable justifications such as "the feebleness of intellect," "seduction," and even "novel reading."

In the 19th century, asylums served as repositories for a wide range of individuals, not just those with severe mental illnesses. People were often committed for reasons that would be considered absurd today, including laziness, religious enthusiasm, menopause, superstition, domestic trouble, masturbation, and tuberculosis. Asylums became dumping grounds for society’s unwanted, and, perhaps disturbingly, offered money to anyone who dropped off a patient.

Initially designed to accommodate 250 patients, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was envisioned as a self-sufficient community. The facility grew its own vegetables, maintained a dairy herd, and operated an ice plant. A nearby coal mine supplied fuel for heating, and a reservoir provided water. Patients manufactured their own clothing, curtains, fabrics, fine-quality mattresses, and most of the institutional furniture.

The sprawling grounds, encompassing over 600 acres, also included a cemetery where many patients were laid to rest over the years. The imposing 200-foot central clock tower, completed in 1871, became a defining feature of the asylum’s architecture. The four-story central unit, topped with a grand cupola, initially housed offices and personnel and even featured a ballroom. Separate rooms for Black patients were added in 1873, reflecting the racial segregation prevalent at the time.

Construction continued until 1881, when the original plan was finally completed. The total cost of the project amounted to $725,000, significantly exceeding the initial budget by over $300,000. By this point, the asylum housed more than 700 patients within its 1,295-foot-long structure, which contained over two and a half miles of hallways. The walls, constructed with two-and-a-half-foot-thick stone, were intended to muffle the sounds of the tormented souls within.

Nineteenth-century healing tactics were often barbaric. Bloodletting, insulin coma therapy, seclusion cells, and confinement cribs were common methods used to control violent patients. Many innocent individuals, misdiagnosed or caught in unfortunate circumstances, spent their entire lives within the asylum’s walls, ultimately ending up in unmarked graves.

Throughout its history, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum underwent numerous changes. A Women’s Auxiliary was built in 1890, and two years later, the 20-acre front lawn was enclosed by a Victorian wrought iron fence. A gas well was drilled on the grounds in 1902, further enhancing the facility’s self-sufficiency. The hospital’s name was changed again in 1913, becoming the Weston State Hospital.

In the early 20th century, the hospital faced significant challenges due to overcrowding, a shift in treatment philosophy toward maintenance rather than rehabilitation, and persistent funding shortages. New buildings were quickly filled upon completion. Various auxiliary buildings were added and removed over the years, including a tuberculosis building established in 1930 and a large 3.5-story brick unit constructed around 1935.

Patients set several fires, including a large fire in October 1935 that ravaged the hospital’s fourth floor. Miraculously, no one was killed, and the wing was rebuilt by the Works Progress Administration for $155,000.

In 1938, the asylum housed 1,661 patients, including individuals with epilepsy, alcoholics, drug addicts, and those with intellectual disabilities. By 1949, the number of residents had grown to approximately 1,800. Reports from the Charleston Gazette highlighted the facility’s poor sanitation and insufficient furniture, lighting, and heating.

At its peak in the 1950s, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum reached a staggering population of 2,400 patients, more than ten times its original capacity. This overcrowding led to dire conditions, with insufficient staffing and resources to adequately care for the patients. The rear of the central unit saw the construction of several brick structures to house service units such as kitchens, dining facilities, laundry, shops, a forensics building, and storage. The overcrowded and understaffed conditions during this period undoubtedly exacerbated the suffering of the patients. Solitary confinement and chaining to the walls of empty rooms became common punishments for those who complained or acted out.

During these years, medical practices such as ice water baths, seclusion cells, electroshock therapy, and lobotomies were commonly employed. The "ice-pick" (transorbital) lobotomy, a crude procedure involving the insertion of a one- or two-pronged device through the eye socket into the brain, was used extensively. The permanent damage caused by this procedure was believed to alleviate some of the patient’s more severe symptoms. In 1952, one doctor performed 228 such lobotomies in West Virginia within a two-week period, a practice infamously dubbed "Operation Ice Pick."

Overcrowding also led to an increase in violence, with numerous cases of patients killing other patients. Even staff members were not immune to the violence. In one incident, a nurse went missing, and her decomposing body was later found at the bottom of an unused staircase. The more violent and uncontrollable patients were reportedly kept in cages.

In 1960, a Medical Center, which included a morgue, was built.

In 1985, the Charleston Gazette again exposed the asylum’s deplorable conditions, reporting that court-appointed inspectors found the facility to be "dirty and unkempt," with many patients left naked and "confined to dirty wards with bathrooms smeared with feces."

In 1992, the Charleston Gazette further decried the horrendous conditions. That same year, a patient named George Edward Bodie died after a fight with another patient, and another patient, Brian Scott Bee, committed suicide, with his decomposing body not being discovered for eight days.

Due to changes in patient treatments and the facility’s physical deterioration, the hospital was forcibly closed in 1994. The building stood vacant for years.

In August 2007, the hospital was auctioned off and purchased by Joe Jordon for $1.5 million. Today, the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is open for guided historical and paranormal tours and evening ghost hunts.

The central section, directly beneath the 200-foot clock tower, houses a museum and several faithfully restored rooms from the 1870s to the 1960s. One of the patient wards has been restored, while the remaining 23 remain largely untouched. The decayed hallways, vacant patient rooms, and isolation cells with rusted rings create an eerie atmosphere.

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum has been featured in numerous paranormal television shows. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1990. The building is the largest hand-cut stone masonry building in North America and is purportedly the second largest in the world, after the Kremlin.

The tales of hauntings and unearthly spirits within the building and on the grounds began long before the hospital’s closure. Reports of hauntings and the sounds of restless souls became commonplace. Some workers stayed only a few days, quitting after hearing inexplicable noises. Thousands were committed to the asylum, and over 2,000 people are buried in the cemetery.

The spirits are said to range from Civil War-era ghosts to children to ex-patients and staff. Sightings include ghostly figures walking through the hallways at night and shadowy figures at all hours. One doctor reported that a spirit followed her home and continues to trouble her to this day. Others have reported seeing a ball of light moving in a hallway and apparitions dressed in white.

On the first floor, called the Civil War Wing, a former patient named Ruth is said to lurk, pushing people against walls and whistling. In Ward 2 on the second floor, shadowing figures have often been seen, and an EVP captured someone saying, "Get out." On the third floor, the ghost of a murdered man is said to haunt the room in which he was killed. Another ghost named Big Jim and a nurse called Elizabeth are also said to maintain a presence on this floor. On the fourth floor, a child named Lily is said to play games with visitors and staff.

Numerous unearthly sounds have been heard, including screams inside the electroshock room, banging, mysterious slamming doors, throaty moans, ominous breathing, and hysterical laughter. Other paranormal activity includes objects that move on their own and visitors feeling watched.

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum stands as a chilling reminder of a bygone era in mental healthcare. Its imposing architecture, coupled with the tragic stories of those who resided within its walls, creates a unique and haunting atmosphere that continues to captivate and intrigue visitors today.