Do you believe that you have a destiny or a calling? One of the greatest reformers in U.S. History, left a legacy in word and action that continues to inspire me today. Of her motivation, she explained “In a world where there is so much to be done, I felt strongly impressed that there must be something for me to do.”

Dorothea Dix was born on April 2, 1802 in Hampden, Maine. As a young woman, she established and operated a school for girls and wrote several books. As significant as those accomplishments were she did not find her destiny until she was thirty-nine years old. Having volunteered to teach a Sunday School class for female inmates at the East Cambridge, Massachusetts Jail, she was horrified to discover the mentally ill huddled together with criminals and drunks on the straw covered floor of an unheated, unfurnished, room. Appalled, she began to ask questions. She was told that the insane do not feel heat or cold. Propelled by outrage and compassion, she pursued action through the courts. After a series of battles, she won. She began to visit jails and almshouses in other parts of Boston and throughout Massachusetts. She took careful notes, compiled her data, and prepared a report for the state legislature. Impressed by her powerful conviction, the legislature voted to expand Worcester State Hospital.

Next, she traveled to other states on fact finding trips, reporting her findings, and advocating for the humane treatment of the mentally ill. In October of 1847, her travels brought her to Tennessee to lobby for improvements at the Lunatic Asylum of Tennessee. By the end of February 1848, the state legislature had not only agreed to build a new facility, but had passed a resolution in her honor. Opening in 1852, the new asylum burned during the Civil War, on March 13, 1863. The cause of the blaze was never established, but eight “inmates” burned to death. More buildings were constructed over the years. Known today as Middle Tennessee State Mental Health Institute, the facility relocated to much smaller quarters in 1995.

East Tennessee Asylum for the Insane opened, west of Knoxville, on Lyon’s View Pike, in 1886. Known for many years as Eastern State Psychiatric Hospital, and more recently as Lakeshore Mental Health Institute, this facility closed in July of 2012. With an executive fiat from Nashville, we have come full circle since the days of Dorothea Dix, with the insane back in correctional facilities.

Over 500 patients were admitted and discharged the last six months that that Lakeshore was open. The need has not gone away. We are not saving any money by housing the mentally ill in penitentiaries and local jails, as claimed by proponents of the closure, but have simply, in the case of local jails, transferred the role of tax collector, from state to local government, and in doing so have exposed local government to liability. Law enforcement officers generally are not qualified to care for the mentally ill. A psychotic young man was allegedly beaten to death, by those of who had been entrusted with his care, at the Washington County Jail last year. His family has filed a $20 million dollar plus lawsuit against the Washington County Sherriff's Department. The human cost is incalculable.

I was witness to the beginning of deinstitutionalization of the mentally ill in the early 1970s. My father’s oldest brothers, Olaf and Hubert, had spinal meningitis. Hubert died. Olaf suffered damage to his central nervous system. My grandparents could not take care of him at home. By the time my father was born in 1925; Olaf was already a patient at Eastern State. I don’t think my father ever questioned the wisdom of taking his children with him to visit Olaf. I am very grateful. It was a family experience and an educational experience for me.

The main building at Eastern State, resembling a medieval castle, had two wings extending on each side of the administration. One was for men. One was for women. Both wings were demolished, almost as quickly, as they were emptied during the first mass discharges. I recall that the walls, built of solid brick, fell in one piece. Obviously, the purpose of destroying such majestic edifices was to eliminate the option of reusing them once more to house patients.

Like Dorothea Dix I believe that “In a world where there is so much to be done.... there must be something for me to do”. It is my hope that I, like Dorothea Dix, might inspire others to join me in addressing the social ills of our time. As Catherine Booth, Mother of the Salvation Army, said “If we are to better the future, we must disturb the present.”

It is unacceptable that in an affluent society, such as ours, that many who are unable to fend for themselves, wander the streets and sleep outdoors in subfreezing temperatures while others are incarcerated with and victimized by hardened criminals.