With an incredibly busy few weeks at work, and having to give up a vacation in Cape Cod as a result, how to console myself? How about a trip to jail? Well, with little time to plan a more suitable Z4 tour, that's what I did—specifically, the Eastern State Penitentiary in the heart of Philadelphia, PA.
On the way there, I made a slight detour through Havre de Grace, MD. Despite having lived in Maryland for most of my life, I'd somehow never visited this historic town that is situated at the mouth of the Susquehanna River, where it empties into the Chesapeake Bay. The town got its start sometime in the mid-1700s, but it didn't gain its current name until the Revolutionary War, when General Lafayette visited and commented that it reminded him of the French seaport by that name (now Le Havre).
Havre de Grace (pronounced, inelegantly, as "haver dee grace") proved to be quite interesting and well worth a more leisurely trip. It had spectacular houses…
…scenic churches (the St. John Episcopalian Church in this instance)…
…the Concord Point lighthouse (the longest continually operating lighthouse in the country)…
…and an honorable history of trying to prevent an invasion by the British in the War of 1812, using the cannon shown near the base of the lighthouse. Despite cannoneer John O'Neill's best efforts, the defense failed, he was captured, and the town was sacked and burned. But 14 years later, when the lighthouse was built, John became its first keeper. See, bravery and fortitude
do pay off—at least in the 1800s…
Continuing on to Philadelphia, and slogging through a nasty traffic backup on I-95 where the Broad Street Bridge was undergoing repairs, I eventually arrived at the imposing Eastern State Penitentiary. When it was built in the early 1800s, it was located in the countryside outside of the city. Over the years, the city expanded steadily, and the penitentiary is now closely surrounded on all sides by residences and businesses.
I'd never thought about the word "penitentiary" before, but it derives from the word "penitent." In fact, Eastern State Penitentiary was the first prison to be based on the principle of prisoner confinement and isolation for the purpose of bringing out one's "inner light" through reflection on his or her crime and God's forgiveness. It was a principle developed by the Philadelphia Society for the Alleviation of Miseries on Public Prisons, which included Benjamin Franklin as a member.
This experiment in criminal redemption originated with Eastern State and was adopted by numerous other prisons in the U.S. and other countries. It proved to be a colossal failure, driving a significant proportion of the inmates insane through isolation from all human contact, cruel punishment for talking to anyone (including oneself!), and barbarous restraining devices.
The penitentiary was designed by British architect John Haviland, who went on to draw up many other well-known buildings in Philadelphia and elsewhere. The arched ceilings and skylights were intended to invoke a church-like atmosphere.
Charles Dickens visited the prison in 1842 and later wrote, "The system here is rigid, strict, and hopeless solitary confinement. I believe it, in its effects, to be cruel and wrong. I hold this slow, and daily, tampering with the mysteries of the brain to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body." The grand experiment was eventually terminated, although not until 1913, by which time it had been in place for almost 85 years. Growth in the size of the prison population was more responsible for ending the practice of total isolation than any recognition of its adverse effects—the warden needed to starting putting 2 prisoners in each cell.
This was the Chaplain's Office.
Another innovation of the prison was use of a central guard observation room, with all the cell blocks radiating off from the center, so that the hallways could be continuously monitored from one vantage point.
Despite the heat of the day (95º outside of the penitentiary), there were a large number of people touring around (including quite a contingent of SmugMug photographers—this place is a photog's dream).
Originally, all of the cell blocks were single story. As the number of prisoners increased, a second tier of cells was added to some. Thereafter, the skylights for the lower cells weren't quite as effective as before…
A number of artists have contributed paintings, sculptures, etc. to the penitentiary. "Hooding" was part of the isolation treatment, anytime a prisoner had to be led from one part of the facility to another.
The prison walls are 30 feet high—but that didn't stop Leo Callahan (Harry's dad??) from building a 30-foot tall wooden ladder and escaping in 1923, along with several others. The ladder was built in interlocking 5-foot sections, for convenient concealment in the prisoners' cells.
A small number of women were also incarcerated at Eastern State, including 19-year-old Helen Eiker, who was sentenced to 5 to 10 years for 2nd-degree murder.
The prison finally closed in 1971, due to riots, unsafe conditions, high costs of operation, and the voiciferous complaints of the adjoining townspeople, who were getting a little tired of the escapes, riots, and so forth. The facility sat vacant and falling apart for over 20 years before a preservation group was formed. Some areas were stabilized, including several complete cell blocks such as this one, so that people could tour without fear of sudden death.
Other areas are off-limits except under special arrangements. Note the "ghost cat" prowling the floor. While E.S.P. was abandoned, it became home to a huge number of feral cats.
Every so often, I ventured outside to tour the grounds and grab a quick picture before the heat drove me back inside. The building in the distance was the chapel and also served as a movie theatre in later years. Note the wooden projection booth placed safely outside the building, upstairs and on the left.
To me, the original, unstabilized corridors were the most interesting. Wait, wasn't that Ghost Cat on the floor before??
Eastern State Penitentiary was home to a number of famous inmates. Willie Sutton, the notorious bank robber was one of them. (When asked why he robbed so many banks, Willie famously answered, "Because that's where the money is.") He and 11 others escaped in 1945 through a tunnel that went down 15 feet, then 97 feet laterally beyond the prison walls, and then back up. The tunnel had electric lights and wooden supports, but escaping involved crawling through one section that was completely filled with water… Willie, incidentally, was arrested about 5 minutes after reaching freedom, only 2 blocks away from the prison. Eleven of the escapees were eventually captured—and one returned voluntarily. The tunnel was supposedly blocked off and filled in, but researchers found it largely intact, wooden supports and all, in 2006.
No, Wilfred, this isn't the
electric chair, it's the
barber's chair.
Don't ask me why there is pale blue light eminating from some of the skylights and not others. Of course, the prison
is famous for its paranormal activities…
This shower facility was a later addition. In the early years of operations, inmates were allowed to bathe once per month. :becca:
Imagine when the abandoned penitentiary was first re-entered after all those years. There must have been a ton of Cool Stuff just sitting around. On the other hand, maybe it all looked like this:
While the walls were plaster-covered stone or brick, most of the ceilings were wooden. This is the ceiling of the junction of cellblocks 8 and 9, which were added as the population increased from its original 250 to over 1,800.
Another famous resident was "Scarface" Al Capone. Apparently if you were sufficiently well-to-do and generous (he bought uniforms for all of the prison's baseball teams), then you could have an upgraded cell. His cell has been furnished to match newspaper accounts of its features.
The hospital wing is off-limits to visitors, due to its unsafe condition. This is the entrance, marked by a red cross.
This is what the hospital's recovery room looked like when the prison was opened back up. And, as best I can tell, it still looks exactly like this. (Photo courtesy of
Images of America: Eastern State Penitentiary, by Francis X. Dolan.)
Many of the original prison cells had a second door, in the back wall, that led out to a private outdoor exercise area. During the isolation experiment, a prisoner could use this area for one-half hour, twice a day—but not when another penitent was nearby.
The beauty of HDR photography in a haunted prison setting is that, every so often, a wraith-like person wanders into one of your bracketed shots. This little girl was alive and well, although she might have been terrified if she knew what she looked like in the picture!
And this somewhat-older young lady would certainly have set off the Mother of All Riots had the prison still been populated!
Fearing said riot, it was time to brave the 95º temperature outside, walk back to the patient Z4, put the top back down, and motor off into the sunset. As I drove through Philadelphia, I couldn't resist a few more pictures, including this apparently abandoned building…
…this clearly abandoned building (and exactly
what was the razor wire protecting??)…
…and, of course, the famous Philadelphia City Hall in the distance.
Once back on I-95, I went tearing off for home, since my friends Cathy and Nevin were taking me out to Al Pacino's Café and a movie that evening. But I figured I had just enough time to go find an abandoned railroad bridge that I'd seen from a distance on an earlier trip to Port Deposit, MD. (See
Mason-Dixon Winter Wonderland.) Soon enough, I found such a bridge—but it wasn't the right one.
There were also some nifty old houses along Basin Run Road.
Eventually, after a couple more false starts, I found the actual bridge I was looking for. My Spirit of Adventure really wanted me to walk across the narrow support girder in search of more pictures. But my Sense o' Doom kept me from doing so, thankfully.
Basin Run itself was a pretty little stream.
Farther downstream, and shortly before Octorara Creek empties into the Susquehanna, there is a spectacular, 5-arch railroad bridge. And it has the unique feature that the abandoned Chester Creek Branch of the Pennsylvania Railroad crossed the stream on its own little bridge that ran underneath the fourth of the large bridge's arches. Not something you see every day.
Did I mention the 95º temperature? Swimming in the shade of the railroad bridge looked very appealing, and, in fact, several families were doing exactly that.
After one more picture, it was time to really hustle home. I arrived safely, just in time for a 2.37-minute shower and a 0.49-minute change of clothes before heading off to meet my friends.
My trip to the Eastern State Penitentiary ended up being more about the destination(s) than the journey. But all aspects were tremendous fun. Although, at one point while avoiding a traffic jam in Philadelphia, I ended up in perhaps not the very best part of town. I quickly put the top up at a stoplight, to keep stray hands from borrowing my camera and other things sitting on the passenger seat of the Z4. With the AC cranked up, I thought things would cool down quickly, but my back still seemed to be very hot against the seat. After 10 minutes of this, I discovered that I'd inadvertently turned the seat warmer on—to high, of course—when I'd raised the top.
Well, if you've made it this far through my trip report, then you certainly have enough stamina to drive your Z4 to Philadelphia and tour the penitentiary. Be sure to take your camera and any extrasensory-measurement gear you've got…