LITMIR.BIZ

      On October 5, 1936 I was taken from North Reading and brought to Lakeville State Sanatorium. I was crying, kicking and begging, not wanting to leave Ginnie at North Reading State Sanatorium. After arriving at Lakeville I was put in a ward with nine other children under the age of six. My first experience was being brought to a building where I was put on a cold table, where they told me they were going to take my picture. After many pictures they moved me into another room that had a terrible smell to it. I was placed on a table that supported my head, buttocks and feet, and dressed in a body stocking. They told me I would feel a warm, wet feeling as they were going to put me in a plaster cast that would keep my body nice and straight. Once they started with the plaster, I knew why the room smelled so badly. When they started to put on layers of plaster around my body, they suggested that I pop my tummy up as far as I could to give me some extra room inside the cast. They put an iron bar about two inches above my knees, then plastered around that to keep my legs separated. Then they cut the stocking casing and turned it up around the edges of the cast, and when it was all done they said I looked beautiful. When the plaster was dry, they picked me up by the top of the cast under my neck and the bar between my legs, placed me on the gurney and brought me to the children’s ward. They put me in a pair of denim bloomers over the cast and a white Johnny (a hospital gown that tied at the neck and back) and then put the apron strap around me and tied me in the crib.

      The daily routine of the babies’ ward was breakfast each morning at seven thirty. This was brought to us on metal trays; we had a cover to lay down on the sheet first so the tray would not leave marks. After breakfast they would bring a basin of water for us to wash our face, and we would brush our teeth and have our hair combed. There were two hair styles; the staff decided how our hair was to be combed. Some had a Dutch clip, while the rest had a braid on one side. At nine in the morning they would move us out on a long cement porch with open sides. The open portion was for the girls from ages six to fifteen who were in the big girls ward; the roofed portion was for the younger children. Around ten in the morning they would bring us tomato juice and water, and then at eleven we would go back in the ward and wait for lunch. We could have a book to read or a doll to play with during this time. After lunch we would be moved out onto the porch from one to three. This was time for us to take a nap. Each of us had the cloth cover that we put down under our metal trays when we ate and would fold them and put them over our eyes to keep the light out to make it easier for us to fall asleep. I really didn’t like this part of the routine, as I was always curious and wanted to know what was going on every minute. At three we would have tomato juice and water and our cribs would be moved back inside the ward. We would play and talk and wait for supper which was at five. From six to seven, we were prepared for the night routine. Faces washed and teeth brushed, we settled in for the night. Some of the children would cry a lot before they went to sleep. The ages ranged from six months to six years. They would be crying for their moms and dads. For me the nights were the hardest.

       Fear of the Dark

      The night was frightening to me—the darkness would start to settle in, then the stillness. The children sobbed, calling for their mothers. The nurse would come in and say, “Silence, everyone!” Her shadow was clear on the dark brown floor in the moonlight; my heart would beat faster from the fear. All of a sudden I would hear a squeaking sound as the big green gate that led to the porch was opened. My crib faced a set of double French doors the staff used to bring the cribs onto the porch in the daytime. At night, I would see witches coming through the gate. They would be laughing, talking and shaking their fingers at me. I would take the sheet and blanket and wrap it around my head and cover my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see them. They would sit in the corner by the doors and laugh and talk and I would scream! This would bring the nurse on duty to the ward as by now all the children would be awake and screaming. The nurse would come to my crib, pull the blankets off my head, and ask what the problem was; when I would tell her about the witches she would say that it was my imagination and tell me to go back to sleep. This happened over and over again; one night the nurse came in and pulled the blankets off of my bed completely. She said I could not have them back until I stopped screaming and waking everyone up. It was hard to lie in the crib without the blankets; the fear would swell up in my heart. I held my hand over my mouth so the nurse could not hear my sobs. My tiny body was trembling inside the heavy plaster cast that encased it. Tears would flow silently down my cheeks onto the sheets until finally I would fall to sleep from exhaustion.

      Waking in the morning, I would find myself not only soaked from tears but also from urine. The coldness during the night without the blankets would cause me to wet the bed. This always meant that I would be punished. Punishment consisted of being isolated. No one could talk to me; I could not play with any of my toys; a screen would be placed around my bed so I could not see the rest of the children. When the medical director made rounds with the charge nurse, they would tell me what a bad girl I was for creating a disturbance and that as long as I continued to do it, I would be punished. When night came I was again without covers. I was told that there would not be a sheet and blanket for me until I learned to stop screaming and upsetting all the other children. At four years old that was a pretty hard thing to do. I was able to hold back the fears and the screaming for a few nights, then fear would return and I would be repeating all the same things again. When I tried to figure out who the witches were, I realized that they looked like some of the doctors and nurses. In fact, they looked a lot like the ones that I was fearful of in the daylight. My biggest fear was they would open the doors and come in and get me.

      I tried to hear what they were talking about. I was afraid to look directly at them in case they saw me. I would hear them talking about surgery for my friends Angie and Rosemary, who had already moved to the big girls’ ward. Also, they talked of the girls who were going home. Oh, the longing in my heart that it would be me. I never heard them mention my name.

       The Baby’s Cross

      I look out of my bed through big brown eyes framed by my pitch black hair. My tiny body is encased in

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