Wyoming Sisters Spend 40+ Years In 1900s Mental Health Institutions
Strange odds land the Slack sisters from Wyoming two life sentences in the state asylum. Then, both patient-inmates die within days of each other in this family history mystery.
Family historians wonder about the contributing factors for the sisters’ mental health collapse or outbursts, though, due to the historically taboo nature of this subject and tight restrictions on access to medical information, it is difficult to confirm what truly put sisters Melissa (1881–1964) and Jennie Slack (1888–1964) inside for 42 and nearly 50 years, respectively.
It’s a heartbreaking tale that resonates deeply with the author, whose own great-grandmother, Martha Gruening Nasch, spent 7 years in a Minnesota insane asylum, along with her great-uncle, Leo Gruening, who joined her and remained until his death in 1934.
The Slack family in Wyoming
The Slack family came to Wyoming from New York (via Wisconsin) shortly after 1880 and settled in Cody, in the Big Horn Basin. A neighboring homesteader and upstanding citizen, George Wesley Bloom (1859–1909) took notice of Melissa Slack a few years after his first wife and one child died in a drowning incident [1]. The arrangement made sense. Melissa, who was twenty-two years younger than Wesley, may have been a convenient replacement bride. At age sixteen, she could keep house and help raise the widower’s two remaining children (who were 10 and 11).
The neighbors married in 1897 and Melissa bore Wesley four more children. There has never been any reason to believe this union was anything but happy, claims Melissa’s great-granddaughter, Aileen Gronewold. Aileen has shared that beyond the practicalities of having a wife in the home, Wesley may have felt sorry for Melissa [2]. Some source records indicate that she was somewhat immature compared to her peers, though other evidence reveals Melissa to be a complex, creative mind.
Was she “crazy” enough to be committed?
Present-day mental health literature has since found that some neurodivergent thinkers present with challenges in day-to-day “normalcy,” but are gifted with remarkable talents and incredible intellects. This paradox was not recognized or supported in the early 1900s health field and offensive behaviors (regardless of intent) were reason enough to be committed). And, as is well documented, women were already routinely over- or misdiagnosed as being mentally unfit for society based on the slightest offenses, such as reading too much or being outspoken.
In the author’s case, Mrs. Martha Nasch from St. Paul, Minnesota committed the offense of claiming that she could no longer taste her food and lost her appetite. As a result of her 1927 aberration, her concerned husband signed her committal papers to the St. Peter Hospital for the Insane, where she stayed for the next seven years (until he signed to release her). In a journal of Martha’s poetry, she wrote of her situation:
“Weak and helpless, I was left, I could never get well … I was forsaken, by husband, child, and friend, and put into a dungeon, to suffer with no end.” (“Forgotten,” circa 1932–34, in Poems from the Asylum by Martha Nasch, 2021) *Click here to read more on Martha’s strange condition.
If Martha Nasch could be committed for losing her sense of taste (which she was considered delusional for even though we now know she suffered from Dysgeusia), it may be easier to feel compassion towards others who are sent away for even more benign concerns.
In short, almost anything Melissa Slack Bloom did or said that did not fit the current mold of how a proper wife should behave could have been upsetting enough to seal the deal, like in Martha’s story. But this wasn’t the case with Melissa’s husband Wesley, who was known to be nothing but kind and loving to her.
Unfortunately, the marriage ended abruptly
Wesley Bloom died in 1909 from a terrible fall accident [3]. Wesley’s eldest son John (who was twenty-eight at this point) became the executor of the estate. In the final arrangements, Melissa was appointed a legal guardian in Cheyenne to manage her portion of the inheritance. This protective measure may indicate that Melissa’s differences were more noticeable than not.
“The family always felt like John had not done right by Melissa and his stepbrothers and stepsisters, and had somehow taken advantage of them,” Aileen shared with the author [4]. Because inheritances are a delicate family matter, she continued, “there’s a lot of emotion attached to what people believe as true.” In her research, however, Aileen found that the portion of the estate left to Melissa was carefully divided into monthly stipends that supported her and the children for many, many years.
To offset the burden of responsibility, Mr. D.W. Gill, the guardian, dispatched Melissa’s two oldest children to the Cathedral Children’s Home (ie. orphanage) in Laramie. Melissa and the younger two children lived under the guardian’s care for approximately five years while she worked as a laundress to make ends meet.
Eventually, Melissa demonstrated a need for more support than could be provided. While family researchers have not yet settled on where Melissa fell on the spectrum of a true-to-perceived psychiatric condition, the courts made the call in a 1914 sanity hearing.
Melissa’s fate was decided for her
At the sanity hearing, a psychiatrist determined thirty-three-year-old Melissa to be delusional. A judge signed off on the plan for institutionalization.
Curiously, Melissa’s psychiatric evaluation from 1928 (as shared by Aileen Gronewold) stated she struggled with “introversion,” and a lack of movement; being “immobile at times but converses fully” [2]. Again, anti-social, introverted behaviors were enough to be considered a mental illness at this time. Melissa’s behaviors would typically fall under the outmoded diagnosis of Melancholia, a far cry from the delusions she was sent in for.
Upon the conclusion of this hearing, Melissa’s other children were removed, and Melissa was given a treatment plan that involved a stay at the Wyoming Insane Asylum in Evanston (presently the State Hospital).
…But Melissa never reached Evanston.
Rerouted to Lander
On Melissa’s court order, this planned destination was crossed out and replaced with the Wyoming School for Defectives in Lander. This school was originally designed to house and equip children with special needs (the “retarded,” “epileptic,” and “feeble-minded”).
The school operated with the hope that a training program (an early version of occupational therapy) could give the children opportunities to be “productive members of their communities” [5]. In the 1910s, this was a radical way to address mental and developmental health issues compared to the well-documented and frequently unchecked isolation, restraint, and painful experimentation practiced in many American insane asylums [6].
Later, Melissa’s descendants would learn from an administrator of the school that, “she never belonged here in the first place” [2]. This leads to many questions about the circumstances of the insanity hearing and diagnostic practices of the time.
Melissa makes the most of her days
Atthe school, Melissa assisted with the laundry chores (continuing in her occupation prior to admission) and embroidered intricate lace tatting strands to be used in various sewing projects.
While published literature on the school’s specific treatment protocols is lacking, it was common for patients who were of no harm to themselves or others to have off-campus opportunities to work in the local neighborhood. Boys/Men could find themselves joining in on a local farm’s Fall harvest. Girls/Women could help with simple household tasks and babysitting. Whether Melissa was afforded this opportunity or not is unknown
Her hospital record indicates Melissa was a “pay patient,” with a monthly contribution of $20.00 USD (This equates to $585 in 2022). In comparison, the author’s great-grandmother’s asylum stay had no costs associated. Family historians believe Martha’s husband petitioned to be released from the financial obligation. This was likely approved because the Nasch family was on state welfare due to a lack of work.
Writing reveals a deeper connection
While at Lander, Melissa composed thoughtful short stories and song lyrics expressing how she missed her family and children. “It’s [mostly] romanticized fairy tale type writing about the white knight,” says Aileen, the current owner of the notebook containing these writings [4]. The original, thirty-page, twine-bound, cardboard-covered book of Melissa’s writings inspired Aileen to consider how acutely aware of her circumstances Melissa was.
Besides the imaginative short stories, “A lot of the things she wrote in [the book] are very dark, but some of them are just tragically sad,” says Aileen [2]. One chorus of a song reads:
Do they miss me at home, do they miss me? It would be an assurance most dear for to know that this moment some loved one were saying, ”I wished she were here.” - Melissa Slack Bloom, circa 1914–39, Lander’s School for Defectives
These words echo the pain felt by Martha Nasch, the author’s great-grandmother. Martha also composed a notebook of memories from her stay in an asylum. In one excerpt from “Too Poor For Freedom” by Martha Nasch, she recorded a fellow patient’s woes which are eerily similar to Melissa’s situation:
It is a crime and sorrow to be away from home, for children there, who need my care, are now left all alone. … My daughter, in tender age, must be more like mother, to try to earn a living for sister and her brother. They, now, are left as orphans. Their father: two years dead. — Martha Nasch, circa 1932–34, St. Peter’s State Insane Asylum.
Melissa also played the harmonica “quite well” according to her family’s recollections [2]. It is thought that her musical talents may have kept her spirits up and provided some entertainment to the other children (and adults, if any) who lived at the school.
Finally, in 1938, Melissa is paroled
Mental health reforms prompted institutions to find a community-based support system that could help patients return to civilian life. New psychiatric medications allowed former patients to manage their symptoms from home — or at a guardian’s home.
By the time Melissa was released, her four children with Wesley were 39, 36, 33, and 30. For perspective, they were only 15, 12, 9, and 6 when she was first admitted. Missing out on one’s children growing up is a truly terrible loss that cannot go without notice.
Fifty-seven-year-old Melissa was cared for by her daughters, who tried their best to make the outpatient situation work. One of Melissa’s granddaughters later shared with Aileen about the times when Melissa lived with them. She was mostly quiet and withdrawn, which matches with what was reported in her psych eval, but there were enough difficult moments to raise concerns in the family.
In 1947, Melissa was re-admitted for hospitalization
This time, Melissa ended up in the Colorado State Hospital for the Insane in Pueblo, Colorado, near one of her daughters. Per the 1950 U.S. Census of the Hospital, Melissa Bloom is listed as a patient-inmate at the age of sixty-eight [7].
Descendants hope to find clarity on this second institutionalization, but the journey to discover the truth has been an ongoing challenge, Aileen has shared [2]. The little information they have has led the family to believe Melissa remained hospitalized for the rest of her life, leaving only to be transferred to a nursing home in Littleton, Colorado where she passed away on February 19, 1964.
The one thing that certainly stands out as remarkable in this story is the possibility for a common link in the Slack family, especially considering what happened with Melissa’s sister Jennie [2].
Click Here to Continue Reading, “Jennie Slack, The Sister Who Never Got Out”
Note: There is still much more to be learned about the mental health practices of the early 1900s. It is both a great privilege and responsibility to share the testimonies of patients. As a matter of due diligence, the author has provided Aileen Gronewold full authority to preview this article's content and correct it for any issues with information or tone. Any follow-up questions about the Slack family history in Wyoming should be directed to her. *Click here to be redirected to her blog, Come On, Aileen
Learn More
- Aileen Gronewold, “Finding Wesley Bloom,” blog at Come On Aileen, dated Aug. 22, 2018: https://comeonaileenblog.com/finding-wesley-bloom/
- Aileen Gronewold, Women of Wyoming, Then & Now episode, recorded Dec.22, 2022: https://youtube.com/watch?v=B4YgN9zdm_8&si=EnSIkaIECMiOmarE
- “Mr. Bloom passed away in April 1909 on the ranch while loading baled hay the rope broke causing him to fall and break his neck.” Quote comes from the obituary, “Melissa Slack Bloom Passes Away Tuesday in Littleton, Colorado,” in Pinedale Roundup Newspaper, Feb. 20, 1964.
- Aileen Gronewold communication to Janelle Molony, Oct. 25, 2022.
- “History of the Wyoming Institute for Disabilities 1994–2019,” WIND (University of Wyoming: Laramie), n.d.: https://www.uwyo.edu/wind/_files/docs/history-brochure-spreads.pdf
- “The Wyoming State Hospital used several methods for caring for their patrons that would today be considered barbaric, but were the best available at the time. Some of these included insulin-induced comas, electroshock therapy, lobotomies and psychotropic drug therapy.” From Debbie Cobb, “Wyoming State Hospital in Evanston,” Haunted 307, Oct. 15, 2018: https://y95country.com/haunted-307-wyoming-state-hospital-in-evanston/
- See the 1950 United States Federal Census; Record Group 29; Pueblo, Colorado; Colorado State Hospital.
About the Author
Janelle Molony, M.S.L., is a family historian and co-biographer of her great-grandmother’s story and poetry anthology, Poems from the Asylum (2021, Nonfiction by Martha Nasch). Her writing has been featured in magazines and journals such as Harbinger’s Asylum, The Michigan Historical Review, Minnesota Genealogist, Annals of Wyoming, Women’s History, and more.
See more from the author by following on Medium and on social media. More publications by Molony can be found on her official author webpage.
