"Grandpa taught us that the proper name was Allen County Infirmary, not the Poor Farm. He was superintendent there from March 1, 1908 to 1920. The institution which I shall refer to as the Infirmary, was located south of Fort Wayne, Indiana, on the Bluffton Road between Brooklyn Avenue and Engle Road. A school, commonly referred to as the Poor Farm School, was located on the southwest corner Brooklyn Avenue and Bluffton Road. South of the school, and facing the Bluffton Road, was the house of the Superintendent and his family. It was a brick structure with a large front porch and a basement in which all the cooking was done for the employees and the family; a main floor with a large entrance room, open stairway, parlor, dining room, two bedrooms and Grandpa's office; a second floor with five bedrooms and one bath; and an attic reached by a rear stairway. The attic was floored and had a large open copper-lined water storage tank and lots of trunks, boxes, clothes, hats, furniture and miscellaneous discards.

The Main building was south of the Superintendent's house and farther back from the road. The north wing was for women, the south for men. The center section was reception room, dining room, and kitchen. There was a wide front hall connection the two wings and the reception room. It was in this hall that the dead were laid out to await the undertaker after they had been cleaned and clothes in a new suit of long white cotton underwear. I remember that during the influenza epidemic there were several bodies at one time waiting to be picked up.

The front yard of the infirmary was along with flower beds and elm trees, all enclosed along the front with a rather high ornamental iron fence. I climbed it many times and hung on it waiting for someone to come back from town and maybe bring what my grandfather called a “poke “of candy from Clapsattle's Drug Store at 2514 Broadway. Outside the fence was the interurban tracks, then the Bluffton Road and the St. Mary’s River. across from the river was Foster Park. Looking north of the road towards the bridge leading to Broadway was the orphans home located between the road and the river.

As the background, you should remember that the whole family lived in one house with six active bedrooms and only one toilet, which had two doors, an overhead tank with pool chain and hanging overhead electric bulb. The bathroom was large with tub and washbasin. Now with at least nine people in the family you can understand what a busy place that must’ve been.

The food for the family was moved from the kitchen to the dining room floor on the main floor with a “dumb waiter.” it was a little hand operated elevator. Meals were always served at the appointed time if you were not there on time too bad; you waited until the next one, although Auntie Rook or someone could usually provide at least a cookie. Always the table was set with white linen cover and linen napkins and Grandma's silverware. Grandma or Grandpa always said grace before eating. Arguing at the table was not approved. The hand-cranked telephone hung on the dining room wall. Adda played the piano in the parlor after dinner and sometimes everybody sang. It was mostly church music that they sang."

"Nearly every employee lived and ate at the Infirmary. Their rooms were on the second floor of the men's and women's wings. The food for the family and the 28-or-so employees was prepared in the basement of the Superintendent's house. The outside basement entrance was a wide set of steps leading down into a hall. To the left was a room with a kitchen sink and a roller towel where the men could wash up. I remember one time there was a flap because a young farmhand was seen squeezing pimples out on the towel. To the right was the employee's dining room with a long table seating 12 on each side. Alongside was the kitchen where the cook and some patients prepared the food. My mother was part of the time. Her salary was $10 a month. I think Superintendent received $100 per month and Grandma received $50 as Matron.

Bill Moore was a popular employee. He was a red head and a veteran. I think he served at the Mexican Border and also in World War I. I have been told that originally a plot was laid out at Covington Cemetery to be used for the free burial of veterans. Bill Moore was buried without charge but after that all were required to pay.

When guests were present, they always praised the bread. Assisted by one or two patients, William Otting the baker, and later Walter Erne, baked the bread. I think they baked some dinner rolls that could be pulled apart for special occasions, but the basic product was large loaves or bread. On rare occasions Grandpa would bring a load of Perfection bread from town and we ate it like cake.

When my father reached his last years, he one time said that he thought of the County Farm as a friendly, comfortable place."

"Some people came to the Institution against their will. Only a few were placed int he Insane Ward. My opinion is that the Ward was not a punishment facility, but a place to hold people until they were finally committed to a mental institution. Some were not wanted at the jail downtown because of their constant yelling and loud obscenities. In some cases, patients were probably locked up for fighting, but not for long and not often. The building was two-story, with a right wing for women and the left for men. The cells had iron bars and a door facing the inside and a screened window on the outside wall. I believe each wing had eight cells on each floor, making 32 total. The long-term attendant on the men's side was William Dornte.

My Aunt Gladys says that a female patient whose husband was a conductor on the Pennsylvania Railroad attacked Grandma and got her down. She might have been injured but she was helped by another patient named Grandma Landski whose son was a professional baseball player. Grandma Landski was ordinarily quiet and peaceful but when she was needed, she gave support.

The yelling is what I remember most about the Insane Ward. There was a high wood fence around the exercise area in the back of the Ward, but the noise came from the cells of individuals who were inclined to call sometimes night and day. The calls might be for help or might just be a strong profanity or just yelling. When particularly violent patients were confined, my mother would be afraid. In the 1920's I have the privilege of touring a part of a mental hospital in Ohio and the yelling of some patients there reminded me of the noise from the Insane Ward."