Dust in the Wind

Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. -- Ecclesiastes 1

Nothing is permanent in this world. This is a law of nature that transcends all things, including blowhards about to become President of these United States.

In my little New Jersey town I only have to walk a few miles to what used to be the property of the state-run Greystone psychiatric hospital. I have not written much about Greystone lately because once the old Kirkbride building came down, all the protests and shouting ended. The hospital moved to state land at the western-most part of the property and the much of the rest was sold for $1 to become Central Park of Morris County.

Kirkbride, as it was. (Margo D. Beller)

MH and I took our walks, thinking it odd that there was just a lot of space at the end of the road behind a storm fence instead of the hulking, stone building, a building it took close to a year to take down because it was put up to last.

There had been plans to build housing here, doing lip service to the preservationists by promising to use part of the old building to house a mental health museum. However, the whole plan died, thankfully. It would've created too much traffic and cost to provide services in one of the few, large, open spaces in a crowded part of northern Jersey. 

The other day I drove us to the end of the road and discovered the fences were gone and big boulders or huge tree logs lined the edge to keep out ATVs. However, there were no signs saying people could not walk in there. And that is what we did.

Looking south -- The ground had been frozen but recent rain made it muddy and spongy in parts. (Margo D. Beller)

Looking north -- It is hard to believe I am standing where one of the largest, continuous foundations in the world once stood. (Margo D. Beller)

Looking west -- You can't see it well here but there is a road between the hill and the field. On the other side of the road and to the right is what is now Greystone hospital. (Margo D. Beller)

Looking east -- You can see the rocks and logs put in to keep ATVs out. Beyond is Central Ave. heading back to my town. (Margo D. Beller)

I stood on this field for a long time, even as MH went back to the car. It took a very long time to take the building down, remove the mountains of stones, fill in the former foundation, put in grass and then leave it all alone until it was deemed time to remove the fences, that the danger to people like me was past.

I stood here, thinking of the human condition. Here was this huge building, built to last as I said, and then it's gone, as if it never even happened.

Dust in the wind.

We can build our monuments to ourselves, our legacies, but when circumstances intervene - a change in presidential administration, global warming, a nuclear holocaust or just everyday dying - it all means absolutely nothing in the long run.

This field, where I look forward to hiking and looking for birds when winter is finally done, is proof of that.

The Road to Nothing

February 2016 (Margo D. Beller)

You might wonder what you are looking at. Obviously it is a road on a snowy day. The road seems to go on forever but if you look closely you see it ends at a fence. Through holes in the fence you can see much dirt and rubble.

This is Central Avenue, a road that begins in Morris Plains and runs into Parsippany, N.J. Until recently this street led to the front door of the administration building, known as Kirkbride, at what was once the Greystone Park psychiatric hospital. Unless you are a local, as I am, it's nothing worth noting.

However, the calm belies the history of the place. This was a major psychiatric facility at a time when it was considered healthy to let patients walk and work in the open air. There was a farm here, behind the administration building, but soon people complained about "inmate labor" and the more common practice of keeping people in massive wards took its place. Then the deplorable conditions were publicized, the facility closed down and the hospital moved to the west. Most of the land was sold, for a $1, to Morris County to turn into a park.

But while the stone wards came down on the county property, the buildings on the state land, including Kirkbride, stood and deteriorated while there was debate on what to do with them.

There were battles, public hearings, newspaper columns and court fights to "save" the second empire structure that is Kirkbride. But in the end, the State of New Jersey, after talking to consultants and developers, decided it would cost too much to keep the old hulk standing and there were too many protests by local area governments against letting a private group buy the building and turn it into a massive housing complex. Luxury housing, yes, but housing all the same, whose residents would put a major strain on Parsippany for services while increasing traffic everywhere, especially into nearby Morris Plains.

The building came down in pieces all summer - those grey stones were built to stand the test of time - until the front door and the central tower were all that was left. Then that was gone.

Despite winter's dark, cold and snow, every morning at 6:30am trucks start picking up rubble and move dirt around. We still don't know what will go on the site. The land on either side of the road leading up to the destruction site is owned by Morris County. What had been Greystone has become Central Park filled with playgrounds, soccer fields, a dog park and even a couple of walking trails.

When the above picture was taken, we had had a blizzard that dropped several feet of snow. The county crew plowed the streets but not much else so one had to walk in the street unless you were wearing boots or cross-country skis.

(Margo D. Beller)

So MH and I were walking along the avenue. When we turned around I beheld what you see and took the picture. We had used Kirkbride as a landmark, the way some in Boston use the Kenmore Square Citgo sign not far from Fenway Park. It made an otherwise drab, uninteresting area more distinctive.

Now, Central Ave. is just another road.

When the state let Kirkbride deteriorate after building the smaller, more modern facility in the western part of its property, I knew it was a matter of time before it was taken down. The state has pulled this before. I wish it could've remained standing but that would create a liability, an attractive nuisance, an eyesore.

Still...

So the state pulled down the old trolley station along with the "cottages" on the state land and finally Kirkbride. There are no longer any traces of the old hospital. Even the "road to nowhere" that once was the driveway of one of Greystone's biggest wards, Curry, no longer has the street sign I photographed above.

This is the road to nothing now.

Kirkbride, end of Central Avenue. (Margo D. Beller)

The End Has Come (Goodbye at last, Kirkbride)

October 16, 2015 (Margo D. Beller)

It was not long after MH and I moved to our home that I was curious enough to walk up Central Avenue to the front door of what had been the administration building of the Greystone Park pyschiatric hospital.

That Second Empire-style building where the road led was grand and imposing but, because it had been abandoned years before, it had a haunted look. So did the stone hulks of the old wards and the "cottages" for the patients who were considered getting better and so were removed from the general population to halfway houses.

I have been writing about Greystone and that administration building, known as Kirkbride, for some time since then, both on this blog and elsewhere. It has been an interesting time since the hospital was closed, the much-reduced patient base moved to a more modern and smaller building on property still owned by New Jersey and the 600-plus leftover acres sold to the county transformed into a park known as the Central Park of Morris County.

There were battles to keep Kirkbride standing, to turn it into, variously, housing, a mental health museum, office space, shops and all of the above. But the state of New Jersey, which allowed the buildings on its land to fall into ruin, finally decided it would cost too much to keep them up and so slowly but surely they have been demolished.

The last to go has been the central tower. MH and I had wondered if there was a deal being worked out to keep just this central portion - which would need significant renovation as well as new walls once the extensive wing system was removed. However, the head of Preserve Greystone finally said there was no use fighting anymore because the destruction was too far along.

And so the picture at the top shows what is left of the old tower. What it looked like is below.

Kirkbride before the wrecking ball. (Margo D. Beller)

I have mixed feelings about the whole business. As I've written many times, including this year, every plan put forth by developers - those sought by the state at first and then those brought in by the preservationists - included housing - apartments or condos - to pay for the cost of all the work that would be needed to make the place livable. Kirkbride was a sizable building, at one point with the largest continuous foundation in the world. It could've held hundreds of people, all of whom would need a place to park their cars, schools to send their children and roads for driving to jobs.

The effect on my little town, literally down the road, would've been catastrophic. Traffic on streets that have never seen a stop light would back up as it already does on the main drag, Route 202. Even the township where Greystone is located, Parsippany, NJ, came out against any residential plan because of the increased costs it would face in providing services, including schools.

I had said back in 2012 it would be better to tear the hulk down because the only things that could live in it were birds and ghosts. Now that it is almost down I am wondering what happens next once the debris is removed and the fences come down. Walking trails? Yet more ball fields? Untouched and left to overgrow?

In 2012, woods where I had seen several types of flycatchers, bluebirds and hawks were ripped up for soccer/lacrosse fields. When I step out my door in the evenings now I can hear the shouting from competitions. If there are low clouds or fog I can see the bright lights reflecting off them, adding more light pollution.

I can do without more soccer/lacrosse fields but this is a minority viewpoint. Most taxpayers will pay for a park only if they can use it for what they want -- so that means dog parks, soccer and lacrosse fields or a cross-country track. This park has all three, as well as a disc golf course.

What it doesn't have is a lot of quiet, open land for old-fashioned things like taking a walk.

By contrast there was another battle going on in Somerset County between the Duke Farms Foundation, which had been running the property since the death of heiress Doris Duke, and about 100 people who didn't want to see the mansion where she had lived be torn down. They said it had historic significance. The foundation said it had been added to so often over the years any historical features were long gone. It had sat empty since Duke's death in 1993 at age 80.

What I could see of the Duke mansion from a trail. (Margo D. Beller)

The Hillsborough Township Historic Preservation Commission agreed with the foundation and the mansion will be razed.

This is another case where I side with those who want to tear the building down. Right now, it is in a remote corner of a huge piece of property that is already used for hiking, biking and quiet contemplation of an astonishing number of birds, including nesting bald eagles. The foundation plans to open the area up to visitors and join it to the rest of the park.

This is a good use of land. But that is a private foundation that has an environmental plan running things. I have no idea what New Jersey or Morris County have in mind for the land once the Kirkbride debris is cleared beyond "open space," whatever that means.

I fear the worst.