I walked into Dr. Robert McDowell’s office in 1955 as a seventeen year old. He said, “Bob, I called you in because there is something in your background that could be dangerous to you and the people near you. It is something that is not your fault, but may be very harmful to you and the people around you.”
“What is it, doctor?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you,” he said, “because it would just frighten you. However, we do feel it’s time to do something about it. I recommend a program started a few years ago. I would use the Golden Rule as the basis for having you enter this program. Do you know what the Golden Rule is?”
“No sir.”
“‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ I would want you to offer me the program, Bob.”
“Dr. McDowell, how do I get into the program?”
“Volunteer to go away and then live a life that is planned and orchestrated for you. If the program works properly, you will live a happy and useful life.”
“Is it the military?” I asked.
“No, but what you are going to do will be dangerous. If things go wrong, you would not be able to return. For this to work properly, you can tell no one. You and I will be the only ones who know. For volunteering, there will be a bonus for you if you come back.”
“Dr. Mac, can you tell me enough to help me decide?”
“Bob, just like the fireman you are, you have to go in on your own, come out on your own, and then make an announcement about it. By volunteering, you’ll be helping many people, and we say that’s what makes a hero. It’s going to be tough on you but we think you can make it and that you won’t be sorry you volunteered.”
A week later, after I agreed to volunteer, Dr. Mac told me, “You’re going to go into a mental hospital on your own, get out on your own, and make an announcement about what you did.”
“I can go this weekend if I have time.” I said.
“No, Bob, we’re going to take care of you getting to the hospital. After you’re there, we’re going to make you worse, then make you well. As soon as you arrive at the hospital, you’ll receive something that you will have for the rest of your life.”
“What’s that, Doctor?”
“A stigma, and how you deal with it is part of the treatment. Bob, by volunteering we consider you half-cured. Now I’m going to hypnotize you. It’s our way of keeping track of you and asking your permission to do certain tests.”
January 17th, 1957, I entered Cheney Hall at the state hospital in Poughkeepsie. I had gotten in on my own.
On January 24th and February 15th I was made worse. They transferred me to a back ward, Ryon Hall, and made me well with drugs.
In May, I was released and introduced to the “bonus” I was promised. We were happily married in December of 1957 and would remain that way for 47 years.
At a restaurant in November 1996, I publicly stated, for the first time ever, to a group of friends, “I’m a former mental patient.” A friend answered, “Bob, you volunteered to do that, remember, remember.” When I heard those words, the hypnotic shield was lowered and I remembered Dr. Mac and the program. It had taken me 39 years to get out on my own.
On March 5th 1998, at a fire department meeting, I stood up and made my announcement. I told thirty-five fire fighters about the program, my mental health history and what was done to make me worse. I had fulfilled my promise to Dr. McDowell.
Two weeks after my announcement, I received a phone call from Dr. Glavin, Chief Psychiatrist at the Poughkeepsie State Hospital. “We are releasing your records along with your mothers,” he said. “You didn’t know this but she was a patient and died in a New Jersey mental hospital. With modern psychiatry we realize she was not manic-depressive and neither are you.”
As a seventeen year old I put my trust in the medical community. The doctors picked the girl I married and the trade I practiced for 36 years. They truly orchestrated a happy and useful life for me.
I have written an autobiography about my experiences. I would like to hear from anyone familiar with the program or the activities at the Poughkeepsie Hospital during the first half of 1957.