With Wings Widespread

New Hampshire Hospital opened in 1842 as the New Hampshire Asylum for the Insane. It was located in Concord, the capitol. Later it became known as “the state hospital.” Still later the word state was omitted. However, the popular phrases remain. Someone is sent to Concord. Another person is at the state hospital. Then of course there are less polite phrases for a hospital whose legend, like all state hospitals, probably is far more outlandish than its actual services over the years. When I arrived at New Hampshire Hospital, I came to a large campus steeped in history and in mythology. At first I was a student, an associate pastor from a local parish located also in the center of the city. This was the summer of 1982 and I was taking a five-day a week course in Clinical Pastoral Education. Chaplain’s services were located in a large brick building at the top of a hill, Brown Building. We were on the first floor. The offices were small, newly renovated and in a great location that was easily accessible to everyone in that building. I began working as an employee at the Hospital in the fall of 1985. At that time there were three chaplains in the Pastoral Services Department. Our offices were located on the third floor of the Main Building. To get to Pastoral Services one had to travel through the first part of an old patient unit that now held the maintenance and grounds department. This was a good thing. There were many benefits to being located next to maintenance and grounds not the least of which was that the people in that department were sociable, down to earth, and eager to assist our department in any way possible. I had been working half time at the Youth Development Center in Manchester and supervising students at the hospital the year prior to coming on board as staff. Plus, I was still in transition having left parish ministry. I was excited about being a chaplain but I still missed the church. As the first official act I asked the Merrimack Association of the United Church of Christ to install me as chaplain. The service took place in the large chapel sanctuary also on the third floor. To my delight the chapel looked like a New England Congregational Church. It was in fact a religious building within a larger public building. The first two years of chaplaincy continued to involve the supervision of seminarians. I am less sure of my own pastoral care efforts at that time as supervision in a clinical pastoral education program is often a full time job. However, by 1987, there were fewer students and I had moved on to become director of the department. At the same time I was working on a doctoral degree in pastoral counseling and parenting two teenage boys. It was at this time that I wrote the following poem. Seventy Years Somewhere up a country road we travel, hearse and I, past stone on walls and horses fed midst all the beauty earth can show. Back through time to a place unmarked, except a distant relative found stones beneath a tree whose arms outstretched all orange and gold - they wait for her. Gone is the quilt once cuddled up against her neck the eyes peering out to catch a glimpse of unknown folk who seem to know what to wash and feed and hold. “Ninety-Nine or is it eight,” says a son who remembers painful days seventy years ago when mother hurt and went to stay somewhere very far away. Eleven more stand gathered bout to hear the words of Book and life. Two families gather, one employed. Somewhere up a country road she lies. Dolloff Building Fall of 1987