I have mentioned I began writing these blogs as a means of just telling my story. My thought being if I don’t tell the story someone else will, and they might not get it right. I’m the authority on this particular subject, I have a PhD in me. And I read that blogs are supposed to center upon your area of knowledge. So, that’s what I write about, my opinions, thoughts and the truth as I see it. Sometimes it is quite unpopular and that’s alright. There are those that really don’t like me at all, and yes, sometimes that feeling is mutual.

Yesterday as I scrolled down my Facebook page I saw pictures of the no kings protestors. One picture was a bunch of women, with blue hair crawling on the ground as a form of protesting. I just laughed and shook my head at that. In another a group of women were dressed like the characters in the Handmaidens Tale, a regular cosplay convention was going on. All of this is crazy as far as I’m concerned. And crazy is what came to mind.

Now when I was about 14 the neighbors husband passed away. Aunt Francis is what I called her although she wasn’t related in any way. She and her husband, Uncle George lived in a one bedroom bungalow, very frugally and very old fashioned. Aunt Francis had told me she couldn’t have any children and it was just her and Uncle George. After his passing Aunt Francis began acting a little strange. It was near the holidays and she ordered several cases of eggnog. This was when it still came in glass bottles and was delivered by the milkman. Some other behaviors followed that raised quite a bit of concern from my parents. I won’t go into all of that. Suffice to say Aunt Francis took her vehicle and was driving at a rather high speed circling our local clinic. She just kept driving in a circle and the police were called but didn’t know what to do. They wound up waiting until the vehicle ran out of gas! Then she was taken into custody and subsequently admitted to the state hospital.

That was about 1967 and at that time those under the age of 16 were not allowed into those places. I remember riding with my Mom and sister to go to the hospital to visit Aunt Francis and having to sit in the car. All I could do was look at the barred windows. After a time Aunt Francis was released from the hospital having been declared sane. My parents naturally went and brought her home. She stayed at my house for a few days while her home was reopened, the water and electric turned back on and the phone connected.

Aunt Francis was a no nonsense kind of woman and just told things as she saw it. In talking about going to the hospital she always said, ” I went off my nut” She had a variety of funny phrases to describe everything. She told my sister and I about being in the nut house, as she called that hospital. The court had ordered she be placed in there. There was no choice, no debate, no hearing or anything like that, the judge simply ruled she needed mental health services and the state provided that. Aunt Francis said, well he was right, I was nuts. Then she said in a reassuring way, I not anymore though.

All that came to mind as I looked at those protestors. They look like they have all gone off their nut! I’m thinking if it was 1967 they would have all been committed. I’m thinking a lot of folks today would be committed. It was in 1967 when a law was passed that stopped that practice and led to the closure of those state hospitals. Yes there were abuses in those places, we’ve all heard about that. In the only case I know of, Aunt Francis, she wasn’t abused in any fashion. She told me the doctors just talked to her a lot and she did crafts while she was there. She told us she knew when she was right again and the doctors agreed.

Aunt Francis had made a doll while in that hospital. It was just one of several crafts she was allowed to do. I remember this doll quite well and my sister accepted that gift but was creeped out by it at the same time. She never let on to Aunt Francis that she felt that way about it. Aunt Francis told my sister that baby was born in the nuthouse! To the best of my knowledge my sister kept that doll her entire life. What has happened to that doll since her passing I don’t know. It was in her home the last I knew, but her husband has remarried and I’m certain a great deal of that sort of stuff just has to go.

As I said I remember that doll quite well. I went on the internet to see if I could find a picture of that particular style of doll. Turns out it is called a YO-YO doll and was quite popular in the mid sixties. There are other things associated with this YO-YO since that time that has nothing to do with dolls. All that was about sixty years ago now. I was reminded however when looking at those pictures. I’m thinking we need to reopen a bunch of those hospitals, especially for all those demanding free health care! It just might restore some sanity to this crazy world we are in.

This is a YO-YO doll. Just little circles of material threaded together in that shape. Born in the crazy house as Aunt Francis said.