Winner of the 2019 Minnesota Book Award for Minnesota Nonfiction
The stirring story of the reform movement that laid the groundwork for a modern mental health system in Minnesota
In 1940 Engla Schey, the daughter of Norwegian immigrants, took a job as a low-paid attendant at Anoka State Hospital, one of Minnesota’s seven asylums. She would work among people who were locked away under the shameful label “insane,” called inmates—and numbered more than 12,000 throughout the state. She acquired the knowledge and passion that would lead to “The Crusade for Forgotten Souls,” a campaign to reform the deplorable condition of mental institutions in Minnesota. This book chronicles that remarkable undertaking inspired and carried forward by ordinary people under the political leadership of Luther Youngdahl, a Swedish Republican who was the state’s governor from 1946 to 1951. Susan Bartlett Foote tells the story of those who made the crusade a Engla Schey, the catalyst; Reverend Arthur Foote, a modest visionary who guided Unitarians to constructive advocacy; Genevieve Steefel, an inveterate patient activist; and Geri Hoffner, an intrepid reporter whose twelve-part series for the Minneapolis Tribune galvanized the public. These reformers overcame barriers of class, ethnicity, and gender to stand behind the governor, who, at a turbulent moment in Minnesota politics, challenged his own party’s resistance to reform. The Crusade for Forgotten Souls recounts how these efforts broke the stigma of shame and silence surrounding mental illness, publicized the painful truth about the state’s asylums, built support among citizens, and resulted in the first legislative steps toward a modern mental health system that catapulted Minnesota to national leadership and empowered families of the mentally ill and disabled. Though their vision met resistance, the accomplishments of these early advocates for compassionate care of the mentally ill hold many lessons that resonate to this day, as this book makes compellingly clear.
Truer words were never said when it comes to mental illness. The time period dealt with in this book is not that long ago, and it is chilling to think that treatment such as this took place on a regular basis in Minnesota.
The word "asylum" does not mean a safe place when it comes to the facilities described in this book. Treatment was minimal, and often, brutal to people who had been committed for such varying conditions as penury, senility, desertion, physical deformity, and mental illness. Straight jackets were euphemistically called "camisoles," and patients so constrained were blindfolded and had their feet bound together.
The administrators were a varying lot. Ugh. Then lobotomies came onto the scene, and some of the administrators saw this as a way to control patients. Double ugh.
Not easy to read.
However, seeing that the biggest crusader for the patients was a Norwegian woman who had a varied background (including being in the Salvation Army) and a driving spirit on compassion, I took heart that the day would be saved. Thank heaven for the Unitarians and Governor Luther Youngdahl.
BTW: the author gives recognition to the wonderful collection and staff at the Anoka County Historical Society.
Susan Bartlett Foote writes a compelling story about the work done to reform Minnesota's mental institutions mostly during Luther Youngdahl's governorship from 1947 to 1951. After conscientious objectors doing alternate war work in mental hospitals brought national attentional to the deplorable conditions in mental institutions nationally, Minnesota's small but activist Unitarians chose to focus on the appallingly overcrowded and brutal Minnesotan mental institutions, relying on inside information from Engla Schey, an attendant then at the Rochester State Hospital. Bartlett Foote makes excellent use of Schey's diary and other first-hand accounts of the abuse, neglect, restraint, nakedness, idleness, the lack of medical or robust psychological treatment, the unpaid labor of hospital residents, the lack of incontinence care, and everything else, but Bartlett Foote is also able to compellingly tell the less lurid details of Unitarians, interfaith leaders, women's groups, politicians, volunteers, family members, concerned citizens, University leaders, medical professionals, and everyone else who came together in committees to lobby the governor and educate the public on why mental health reform was a priority, and this is the bulk of the book. (The U was so involved in advocacy and the advancement of the state back then; what happened?) The bill that these masses of citizens made happen was signed by Governor Youngdahl in 1949, only to be undone by stupid Governor C. Elmer Anderson (not to be confused with Governor Elmer L. Andersen, who was awesome) and his evil Director of Public Institutions. The destigmatization of mental illness, to a certain extent, is a legacy of this activism, and Minnesota remains at the top of a deplorable inadequacy of mental health care across the United States. We should invest in doing better instead of Walz checks.
As I have lived in Minnesota my whole life, I found this book familiar in many ways. I recognized many of the names of politicians and I am familiar with the various institutions, mainly from hearing about them in negative terms. This book was extremely well researched. The author covered every aspect of the efforts made to improve the terrible conditions in Minnesota mental institutions: the religious, political, medical and the individuals who were so dedicated to improve the patients' lives. It saddened me to see the failure brought about by C. Elmer Andersen's administration to appoint Jarle Lierfallom as commissioner of public welfare. I remember my dad complaining about Andersen as governor of Minnesota when I was a kid, and after reading this book I can definitely see what a weak man he was. Mental health, like child welfare must be constantly monitored. They must be protected because they don't have a voice to speak out for themselves.
Wow. This is an era not talked about enough. It's wild that I drive past the Anoka facility practically every day. What incredible people who fought for this to change. We still need to improve our access to treatment for mental illnesses and erase the stigma of disability and mental health. We're headed in the right direction. My gen z kid talks so openly about mental health and awareness with their peers. This gives me so much hope.
Powerful description of a time in MN history that gets little attention. Fascinating insight into the political machine and the work necessary to achieve public policy change. Powerful statements about the importance of individual advocacy and commitment to values. This book will stay with me for some time.
Highly readable account of the movement to reform Minnesota's mental health system, in the mid-twentieth century. Sadly, many of the vexing problems and tragic inequities continue today, given the fact that the criminal justice system has been asked to take over for the now-dismantled system of asylums for those confronting mental health issues.
I loved this book that gave me a window into the Minnesota state hospital world that my grandmother inhabited during that time. I also appreciated learning about the heros, often women with little power but great determination and courage.
This book is about the effort to reform Minnesota's mental health institutions in the late 1940's. Significant progress was made though much fell off with a new state government administration after 1954.
Something interesting here for you if you care about mental health, human rights, politics, especially Minnesota, citizen organization for making change, or Unitarians.
I was expecting (hoping?) this book would focus on the daily lives of patients in mental hospitals in the 1940s/50s. Instead it was more about the politics of reform. Not my cup of tea.