May 31, 2015
Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness month and I want to tell you about my grandmother, Jennie May Evritt Reasner. She was born March 6, 1863 and died August 25th, 1922. My mother never talked to me about Jennie and so my only clue to Jennie’s life was through her autograph book and a few bits and pieces of information that my mother told my sisters. In 2006 I began my search for Jennie – I wanted to know this woman who was my grandmother – a woman I felt close to primarily through the words in her little black autograph book.
Jennie was deaf and dumb (as they put it back in those days). She was born in Shelby Twp. Michigan and attended the Flint Institute for the Deaf in the late 1800’s. I believe she was in the class of 1883 but I’m not sure. It’s obvious she was well liked, I found these autographs from friends at the Institute, “Remember me as one of your best friends. Your friend Matilda Bezter, Inst. April 8th, 1883” and “Friend May (some called her by her middle name), I heartily endorse all the kind wishes expressed in this little book. Your friend, Jay W. Sutton”.
There were also autographs from many family members – it’s obvious she was loved, “Dear sister, I long to see your face. I miss the darling Sister May…how I love the thought of that little Christian face. Aggie”.
Jennie married my grandfather, Richard Reasner and gave birth to my mother in 1906. Jennie wrote to her niece Florence, “Our baby is such a good and sweet child. I will be glad you will be here some Saturday to see our darling Martha.”
Three years later my Grandmother was institutionalized – she was taken away and never lived with her “darling Martha” again.
I obtained her medical records from the Clinton Valley Center (formerly Pontiac State Hospital and in Jennie's time The Eastern Michigan Asylum for the Insane). The first time she was admitted, she was out in one month and considered recovered. The second time she was admitted in 1910, it appears she never left. Her “insanity” - she was manic-depressive or as it’s known today, bi-polar. This was all complicated by the fact she was deaf – little ability to speak and she used sign. She was case 7388 – the mental examination – “Expression of countenance is rather stolid. There are no peculiarities of dress. She can articulate only a few words, such as tea, coffee, etc. These are uttered in a high-pitched voice, and articulation is quite indistinct. She finds some difficulty in comprehending, i.e. she is rather slow, and in communicating with others she uses a pencil and paper. “ (Note: This is how her inability to hear and speak worked against her. Imagine dealing with a mental illness and not being able to communicate.) “The history would indicate that there was some variation in her moods; that she was lacking in self-control; that she was unhappy, depressed and suicidal. Her statements indicates some apprehensiveness and fear for the future. Here she controls herself well and shows neither elation or much depression. She is tidy in her habits, appreciative of her surroundings and willing to cooperate.”
When I read about Jennie in 1910 and the decline of happiness and total loss of any quality of life, I think thank God for modern mental health practices, the therapy and the medications that are available today. Thank God that research continues to provide improved treatment in the future. I can’t even imagine the nightmare of being in the black hole of depression and not getting treatment and spending 12 years in an institution totally separated from family and for Jennie separated from her “darling Martha”. My sister Ada told me that they would take my mother to see her mother but eventually this had to be stopped because Jennie would become too upset.
I don’t know why my mother never talked to me about my grandmother – maybe I didn’t ask questions, maybe it wasn't something she thought important – maybe she was angry or ashamed, I don’t know. What I do know is that my mother kept the autograph book, the letter her mother wrote to Cousin Florence, her mother’s picture and a pincushion with a tag that reads, “To Martha, Love, Mother”. I believe that these were her only connections to a mother who was lost to her from age 3 on.
It’s very difficult for me to spend much time in Jennie’s lost world. I understand only too well the devastation of depression. It’s a huge black hole and for Jennie, one that she never left.
Why did I write this - it's a very personal story but one that should be shared to demonstrate the horrors of mental illness as it was in 1910 so that we can appreciate the treatments we have now and to know that people suffering from mental disorders have even more hope as we move into the future.
Why did I write this - primarily because I love Jennie and "To be remembered, that alone may be the secret to immortality." My grandmother lives through the words I have written. Margaret
Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness month and I want to tell you about my grandmother, Jennie May Evritt Reasner. She was born March 6, 1863 and died August 25th, 1922. My mother never talked to me about Jennie and so my only clue to Jennie’s life was through her autograph book and a few bits and pieces of information that my mother told my sisters. In 2006 I began my search for Jennie – I wanted to know this woman who was my grandmother – a woman I felt close to primarily through the words in her little black autograph book.
Jennie was deaf and dumb (as they put it back in those days). She was born in Shelby Twp. Michigan and attended the Flint Institute for the Deaf in the late 1800’s. I believe she was in the class of 1883 but I’m not sure. It’s obvious she was well liked, I found these autographs from friends at the Institute, “Remember me as one of your best friends. Your friend Matilda Bezter, Inst. April 8th, 1883” and “Friend May (some called her by her middle name), I heartily endorse all the kind wishes expressed in this little book. Your friend, Jay W. Sutton”.
There were also autographs from many family members – it’s obvious she was loved, “Dear sister, I long to see your face. I miss the darling Sister May…how I love the thought of that little Christian face. Aggie”.
Jennie married my grandfather, Richard Reasner and gave birth to my mother in 1906. Jennie wrote to her niece Florence, “Our baby is such a good and sweet child. I will be glad you will be here some Saturday to see our darling Martha.”
Three years later my Grandmother was institutionalized – she was taken away and never lived with her “darling Martha” again.
I obtained her medical records from the Clinton Valley Center (formerly Pontiac State Hospital and in Jennie's time The Eastern Michigan Asylum for the Insane). The first time she was admitted, she was out in one month and considered recovered. The second time she was admitted in 1910, it appears she never left. Her “insanity” - she was manic-depressive or as it’s known today, bi-polar. This was all complicated by the fact she was deaf – little ability to speak and she used sign. She was case 7388 – the mental examination – “Expression of countenance is rather stolid. There are no peculiarities of dress. She can articulate only a few words, such as tea, coffee, etc. These are uttered in a high-pitched voice, and articulation is quite indistinct. She finds some difficulty in comprehending, i.e. she is rather slow, and in communicating with others she uses a pencil and paper. “ (Note: This is how her inability to hear and speak worked against her. Imagine dealing with a mental illness and not being able to communicate.) “The history would indicate that there was some variation in her moods; that she was lacking in self-control; that she was unhappy, depressed and suicidal. Her statements indicates some apprehensiveness and fear for the future. Here she controls herself well and shows neither elation or much depression. She is tidy in her habits, appreciative of her surroundings and willing to cooperate.”
When I read about Jennie in 1910 and the decline of happiness and total loss of any quality of life, I think thank God for modern mental health practices, the therapy and the medications that are available today. Thank God that research continues to provide improved treatment in the future. I can’t even imagine the nightmare of being in the black hole of depression and not getting treatment and spending 12 years in an institution totally separated from family and for Jennie separated from her “darling Martha”. My sister Ada told me that they would take my mother to see her mother but eventually this had to be stopped because Jennie would become too upset.
I don’t know why my mother never talked to me about my grandmother – maybe I didn’t ask questions, maybe it wasn't something she thought important – maybe she was angry or ashamed, I don’t know. What I do know is that my mother kept the autograph book, the letter her mother wrote to Cousin Florence, her mother’s picture and a pincushion with a tag that reads, “To Martha, Love, Mother”. I believe that these were her only connections to a mother who was lost to her from age 3 on.
It’s very difficult for me to spend much time in Jennie’s lost world. I understand only too well the devastation of depression. It’s a huge black hole and for Jennie, one that she never left.
Why did I write this - it's a very personal story but one that should be shared to demonstrate the horrors of mental illness as it was in 1910 so that we can appreciate the treatments we have now and to know that people suffering from mental disorders have even more hope as we move into the future.
Why did I write this - primarily because I love Jennie and "To be remembered, that alone may be the secret to immortality." My grandmother lives through the words I have written. Margaret
May 31, 2015
Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness month and I want to tell you about my grandmother, Jennie May Evritt Reasner. She was born March 6, 1863 and died August 25th, 1922. My mother never talked to me about Jennie and so my only clue to Jennie’s life was through her autograph book and a few bits and pieces of information that my mother told my sisters. In 2006 I began my search for Jennie – I wanted to know this woman who was my grandmother – a woman I felt close to primarily through the words in her little black autograph book.
Jennie was deaf and dumb (as they put it back in those days). She was born in Shelby Twp. Michigan and attended the Flint Institute for the Deaf in the late 1800’s. I believe she was in the class of 1883 but I’m not sure. It’s obvious she was well liked, I found these autographs from friends at the Institute, “Remember me as one of your best friends. Your friend Matilda Bezter, Inst. April 8th, 1883” and “Friend May (some called her by her middle name), I heartily endorse all the kind wishes expressed in this little book. Your friend, Jay W. Sutton”.
There were also autographs from many family members – it’s obvious she was loved, “Dear sister, I long to see your face. I miss the darling Sister May…how I love the thought of that little Christian face. Aggie”.
Jennie married my grandfather, Richard Reasner and gave birth to my mother in 1906. Jennie wrote to her niece Florence, “Our baby is such a good and sweet child. I will be glad you will be here some Saturday to see our darling Martha.”
Three years later my Grandmother was institutionalized – she was taken away and never lived with her “darling Martha” again.
I obtained her medical records from the Clinton Valley Center (formerly Pontiac State Hospital and in Jennie's time The Eastern Michigan Asylum for the Insane). The first time she was admitted, she was out in one month and considered recovered. The second time she was admitted in 1910, it appears she never left. Her “insanity” - she was manic-depressive or as it’s known today, bi-polar. This was all complicated by the fact she was deaf – little ability to speak and she used sign. She was case 7388 – the mental examination – “Expression of countenance is rather stolid. There are no peculiarities of dress. She can articulate only a few words, such as tea, coffee, etc. These are uttered in a high-pitched voice, and articulation is quite indistinct. She finds some difficulty in comprehending, i.e. she is rather slow, and in communicating with others she uses a pencil and paper. “ (Note: This is how her inability to hear and speak worked against her. Imagine dealing with a mental illness and not being able to communicate.) “The history would indicate that there was some variation in her moods; that she was lacking in self-control; that she was unhappy, depressed and suicidal. Her statements indicates some apprehensiveness and fear for the future. Here she controls herself well and shows neither elation or much depression. She is tidy in her habits, appreciative of her surroundings and willing to cooperate.”
When I read about Jennie in 1910 and the decline of happiness and total loss of any quality of life, I think thank God for modern mental health practices, the therapy and the medications that are available today. Thank God that research continues to provide improved treatment in the future. I can’t even imagine the nightmare of being in the black hole of depression and not getting treatment and spending 12 years in an institution totally separated from family and for Jennie separated from her “darling Martha”. My sister Ada told me that they would take my mother to see her mother but eventually this had to be stopped because Jennie would become too upset.
I don’t know why my mother never talked to me about my grandmother – maybe I didn’t ask questions, maybe it wasn't something she thought important – maybe she was angry or ashamed, I don’t know. What I do know is that my mother kept the autograph book, the letter her mother wrote to Cousin Florence, her mother’s picture and a pincushion with a tag that reads, “To Martha, Love, Mother”. I believe that these were her only connections to a mother who was lost to her from age 3 on.
It’s very difficult for me to spend much time in Jennie’s lost world. I understand only too well the devastation of depression. It’s a huge black hole and for Jennie, one that she never left.
Why did I write this - it's a very personal story but one that should be shared to demonstrate the horrors of mental illness as it was in 1910 so that we can appreciate the treatments we have now and to know that people suffering from mental disorders have even more hope as we move into the future.
Why did I write this - primarily because I love Jennie and "To be remembered, that alone may be the secret to immortality." My grandmother lives through the words I have written. Margaret
Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness month and I want to tell you about my grandmother, Jennie May Evritt Reasner. She was born March 6, 1863 and died August 25th, 1922. My mother never talked to me about Jennie and so my only clue to Jennie’s life was through her autograph book and a few bits and pieces of information that my mother told my sisters. In 2006 I began my search for Jennie – I wanted to know this woman who was my grandmother – a woman I felt close to primarily through the words in her little black autograph book.
Jennie was deaf and dumb (as they put it back in those days). She was born in Shelby Twp. Michigan and attended the Flint Institute for the Deaf in the late 1800’s. I believe she was in the class of 1883 but I’m not sure. It’s obvious she was well liked, I found these autographs from friends at the Institute, “Remember me as one of your best friends. Your friend Matilda Bezter, Inst. April 8th, 1883” and “Friend May (some called her by her middle name), I heartily endorse all the kind wishes expressed in this little book. Your friend, Jay W. Sutton”.
There were also autographs from many family members – it’s obvious she was loved, “Dear sister, I long to see your face. I miss the darling Sister May…how I love the thought of that little Christian face. Aggie”.
Jennie married my grandfather, Richard Reasner and gave birth to my mother in 1906. Jennie wrote to her niece Florence, “Our baby is such a good and sweet child. I will be glad you will be here some Saturday to see our darling Martha.”
Three years later my Grandmother was institutionalized – she was taken away and never lived with her “darling Martha” again.
I obtained her medical records from the Clinton Valley Center (formerly Pontiac State Hospital and in Jennie's time The Eastern Michigan Asylum for the Insane). The first time she was admitted, she was out in one month and considered recovered. The second time she was admitted in 1910, it appears she never left. Her “insanity” - she was manic-depressive or as it’s known today, bi-polar. This was all complicated by the fact she was deaf – little ability to speak and she used sign. She was case 7388 – the mental examination – “Expression of countenance is rather stolid. There are no peculiarities of dress. She can articulate only a few words, such as tea, coffee, etc. These are uttered in a high-pitched voice, and articulation is quite indistinct. She finds some difficulty in comprehending, i.e. she is rather slow, and in communicating with others she uses a pencil and paper. “ (Note: This is how her inability to hear and speak worked against her. Imagine dealing with a mental illness and not being able to communicate.) “The history would indicate that there was some variation in her moods; that she was lacking in self-control; that she was unhappy, depressed and suicidal. Her statements indicates some apprehensiveness and fear for the future. Here she controls herself well and shows neither elation or much depression. She is tidy in her habits, appreciative of her surroundings and willing to cooperate.”
When I read about Jennie in 1910 and the decline of happiness and total loss of any quality of life, I think thank God for modern mental health practices, the therapy and the medications that are available today. Thank God that research continues to provide improved treatment in the future. I can’t even imagine the nightmare of being in the black hole of depression and not getting treatment and spending 12 years in an institution totally separated from family and for Jennie separated from her “darling Martha”. My sister Ada told me that they would take my mother to see her mother but eventually this had to be stopped because Jennie would become too upset.
I don’t know why my mother never talked to me about my grandmother – maybe I didn’t ask questions, maybe it wasn't something she thought important – maybe she was angry or ashamed, I don’t know. What I do know is that my mother kept the autograph book, the letter her mother wrote to Cousin Florence, her mother’s picture and a pincushion with a tag that reads, “To Martha, Love, Mother”. I believe that these were her only connections to a mother who was lost to her from age 3 on.
It’s very difficult for me to spend much time in Jennie’s lost world. I understand only too well the devastation of depression. It’s a huge black hole and for Jennie, one that she never left.
Why did I write this - it's a very personal story but one that should be shared to demonstrate the horrors of mental illness as it was in 1910 so that we can appreciate the treatments we have now and to know that people suffering from mental disorders have even more hope as we move into the future.
Why did I write this - primarily because I love Jennie and "To be remembered, that alone may be the secret to immortality." My grandmother lives through the words I have written. Margaret
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