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"And Neither Have I Wings to Fly":: Labelled and Locked Up in Canada's Oldest Institution
The shocking true story of the institutionalization and abuse of children and adults with intellectual and physical handicaps in Canada's oldest provincial institution in Orillia, Ontario. Daisy Lumsden and her family were such victims, along with over ten thousand children, including infants, and adults with intellectual disabilities committed over the last century to the institution now known as Huronia Regional Centre, formerly the Asylum for Idiots and Feeble-Minded. The time frame of the book, 1900-1966, covers the most controversial decades in its history, a time of over-crowding and abuses that reached a crux in the 1950s and 1960s when the inmate population was nearly 3000. Victims of the rising eugenic ideology of the early 1900s that infiltrated Canada from United States and Britain, advocating segregation and involuntary sterilization of the "feeble-minded," Daisy's family - uneducated, ignorant, unemployed, incestuous, poor - were easily identifiable as "feeble-minded" and "unfit," unwittingly caught up in a genetic "survival of the fittest." But who are the "unfit" in our society? And who decides?
320 pages, Paperback
First published May 15, 2012
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
April 28, 2015
This book did not give me the answers I was looking for. I live near Orillia. I have driven by the large, looming buildings and seen the tiny (pathetic) sign marking the cemetery across the street. I was born after Pierre Burton's article about the hospital and I was completely unaware of the horrors that went on there. When the lawsuit began, I was finally aware of the terrible things that went on behind those brick walls. I mentioned the lawsuit at the dinner table and was completely in shock when my mother flippantly replied "Oh, yeah. Your aunt should be seeing some of that money."
My aunt is quite disabled. In her early fifties, she has the mind and mannerisms of a baby. She is unable to feed herself, speak, or communicate. When I pressed my mother for details, she told me that my aunt's time in Orillia was short. When the family visited (though discouraged from doing so) they found my aunt to be inexplicably bruised and kept in a metal cage. The family took her out immediately in favour of private care.
Fortunately, her time was short in Orillia. But at the same time we will never know what abuse and horrors and mistreatment she was subjected to. She is unable to tell us. Her story will never be told.
On one hand, I am glad that at least one family could tell their story.
However I am afraid that this story barely scrapes the surface. There are so many more stories untold. And many more stories that will never be told.
I had wished for some sort of explanation from some of the workers and orderlies. How could they possibly do these things? How could they see what was going on and do nothing? How could they be so cruel? How can they do this to people?
I guess perhaps the answer can be found in Pierre Burton's article. Burton drew comparisons to Nazi Germany. He stated that the German people could avoid feeling guilty about the holocaust because they did not know what went on beyond the walls of the concentration camps. But Burton pointed out that he was making everyone aware of what was going on in Orillia. There was no excuse because now everyone knows.
Perhaps, like the Nazi's, the orderlies and staff were just blindly following orders. But this is still no excuse. And the government cannot hide behind this excuse. They knew. They were well aware and did nothing.
One story still sticks out in my mind. Another aunt told me about a friend of her's who worked at Orillia in the 1970-1980s. My aunt complimented her on her shoes and asked where she got them. After some prodding, the woman admitted that she got them from Orillia. One of the patients' family had sent the shoes for the patient. She decided that the shoes were too nice for the patient and since they were her size, she took them.
How could she? This was a person who had nothing, and she stole from them. Perhaps even the family had nothing, but scraped and saved to provide for their family member in Orillia. And this woman took them anyway.
This is not an example of the worst of the abuse. There was constant rape, barbaric abuse, rights and freedoms taken away. But this was at a time when orderlies should have known better! This was well after the eugenics movement when disabled people were beginning to be viewed as people again.
My aunt is quite disabled. In her early fifties, she has the mind and mannerisms of a baby. She is unable to feed herself, speak, or communicate. When I pressed my mother for details, she told me that my aunt's time in Orillia was short. When the family visited (though discouraged from doing so) they found my aunt to be inexplicably bruised and kept in a metal cage. The family took her out immediately in favour of private care.
Fortunately, her time was short in Orillia. But at the same time we will never know what abuse and horrors and mistreatment she was subjected to. She is unable to tell us. Her story will never be told.
On one hand, I am glad that at least one family could tell their story.
However I am afraid that this story barely scrapes the surface. There are so many more stories untold. And many more stories that will never be told.
I had wished for some sort of explanation from some of the workers and orderlies. How could they possibly do these things? How could they see what was going on and do nothing? How could they be so cruel? How can they do this to people?
I guess perhaps the answer can be found in Pierre Burton's article. Burton drew comparisons to Nazi Germany. He stated that the German people could avoid feeling guilty about the holocaust because they did not know what went on beyond the walls of the concentration camps. But Burton pointed out that he was making everyone aware of what was going on in Orillia. There was no excuse because now everyone knows.
Perhaps, like the Nazi's, the orderlies and staff were just blindly following orders. But this is still no excuse. And the government cannot hide behind this excuse. They knew. They were well aware and did nothing.
One story still sticks out in my mind. Another aunt told me about a friend of her's who worked at Orillia in the 1970-1980s. My aunt complimented her on her shoes and asked where she got them. After some prodding, the woman admitted that she got them from Orillia. One of the patients' family had sent the shoes for the patient. She decided that the shoes were too nice for the patient and since they were her size, she took them.
How could she? This was a person who had nothing, and she stole from them. Perhaps even the family had nothing, but scraped and saved to provide for their family member in Orillia. And this woman took them anyway.
This is not an example of the worst of the abuse. There was constant rape, barbaric abuse, rights and freedoms taken away. But this was at a time when orderlies should have known better! This was well after the eugenics movement when disabled people were beginning to be viewed as people again.
February 26, 2015
3.5 stars.
Some parts of this book were gripping, with vivid, descriptive writing. It's an important book that opened my eyes to the injustices that occurred right where I live. However, the timeline of the storytelling is confusing at times (starting with Daisy, then reverting to her grandparents, and finally to her own parents, making it hard to track the progression of the philosophies governing treatment), and I didn't understand the purpose for the extensive focus on the personal lives of some of the professional figures (Dr. MacMurchy, particularly). In any event, I appreciate how thoroughly the author researched this topic (the bibliography is eight pages long!), and I would recommend this book to others who want to learn more about the history of the treatment of mental health and poverty in this province.
Some parts of this book were gripping, with vivid, descriptive writing. It's an important book that opened my eyes to the injustices that occurred right where I live. However, the timeline of the storytelling is confusing at times (starting with Daisy, then reverting to her grandparents, and finally to her own parents, making it hard to track the progression of the philosophies governing treatment), and I didn't understand the purpose for the extensive focus on the personal lives of some of the professional figures (Dr. MacMurchy, particularly). In any event, I appreciate how thoroughly the author researched this topic (the bibliography is eight pages long!), and I would recommend this book to others who want to learn more about the history of the treatment of mental health and poverty in this province.
January 31, 2017
A troubling story about a poor family's experience with the medical and social systems in Toronto in the first part of the 20th century.
February 7, 2014
This is an outstanding account of a sorry time in Ontario's history. Wheatley does a superb job of weaving a family's history alongside the development of policies that addressed the needs of intellectually and socially disadvantaged individuals. Her account is a powerful statement for educational integration.
Compassionate and compelling.
Compassionate and compelling.
July 1, 2013
Did well mixing facts with the story, but at times the story was a little difficult to follow due to the overabundance of facts. Then it was difficult to even tell who the author was talking about. Overall an interesting way to learn about the history of the Orillia asylum.
January 15, 2023
I don’t even know where to start. I have drive by this Centre many times, I have even walked on the property, I also got a horrible feeling in my stomach the day I walked it. The feeling of pain and suffering emanated from the walls there was a heaviness everywhere.
The book was both enlightening and disturbing. I knew some horrible things had gone on at HRC from working with some of the last individuals to leave. I assisted them adjust from institution life to going to live in a group home. These individuals displayed disturbing behaviours that later explained by some of their file notes. To read the same behaviours in the book solidified the truth as it was things I did not want to believe that people who were supposed to be looking after and assisting these individuals could do to the vulnerable people. I wish those people could be held criminally responsible for there actions. I realize there was probably many decent individuals that truly cared and wanted to help them and for those I am thankful to.
I did learn a lot about Toronto 100 years ago, the Toronto I know and the Toronto them are so different, but some areas are almost the same. Moss Park area, Regent Park were homes for the disadvantaged then as it is now.
I also learned there were other institutions I never knew about. Which has piqued my curiosity to learn more about them.
I’m glad I read the book. It gave me a lot to think about and greater appreciation for those who lived to tell their story. We owe them more than any dollar amount could ever be paid for their pain and suffering.
The book was both enlightening and disturbing. I knew some horrible things had gone on at HRC from working with some of the last individuals to leave. I assisted them adjust from institution life to going to live in a group home. These individuals displayed disturbing behaviours that later explained by some of their file notes. To read the same behaviours in the book solidified the truth as it was things I did not want to believe that people who were supposed to be looking after and assisting these individuals could do to the vulnerable people. I wish those people could be held criminally responsible for there actions. I realize there was probably many decent individuals that truly cared and wanted to help them and for those I am thankful to.
I did learn a lot about Toronto 100 years ago, the Toronto I know and the Toronto them are so different, but some areas are almost the same. Moss Park area, Regent Park were homes for the disadvantaged then as it is now.
I also learned there were other institutions I never knew about. Which has piqued my curiosity to learn more about them.
I’m glad I read the book. It gave me a lot to think about and greater appreciation for those who lived to tell their story. We owe them more than any dollar amount could ever be paid for their pain and suffering.
November 24, 2023
"And Neither Have I Wings to Fly" is a shocking and disturbing true account of life at the Ontario Hospital School (Huronia Regional Centre) in Orillia. The author does not hesitate to describe the worst of family circumstances as well the neglect and abuse at the hospital, so the book is a difficult read at times. Thankfully, the centre closed in 2009.
April 20, 2021
Well written shocking account of treatment of people with disabilities in Ontario from the turn of the century to well into the 80s.
August 5, 2013
A painful yet necessary read. It is always with 20/20 vision that we can look back on the choices of yesterday and see how they affect the lives of today.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews