Central State Hospital

Milledgeville
A sketch of the Georgia State Lunatic Asylum when it opened.

On November 4, 1834, the General Assembly convened in Milledgeville, and then Governor Wilson Lumpkin made a plea on behalf of “the lunatics, idiots, and epileptics.”  In 1837, Georgia legislators passed a bill for the creation of a state-operated insane asylum. After five years of construction, the Georgia State Lunatic Asylum opened in 1842. Over the years, the campus underwent several name changes including Georgia State Sanitarium, Milledgeville State Hospital, and Central State Hospital.

Tillman Barnett, a 30-year-old farmer from Macon, was the first patient admitted to the new asylum in December 1842. He was brought to Milledgeville chained to a horse-drawn wagon by his wife and family, described as violent and destructive. Unfortunately, Barnett died of “maniacal exhaustion” by the following summer. Tillman Barnett became the first casualty in a long and dark history of one of the nation’s most notorious institutions.

Central State Hospital
A 19th century photo of the Powell Building (courtesy of Georgia Archives)

Central State Hospital operated on an “institution as family” model that asserted that hospitals work best when they resemble extended families. Head physician Dr. Thomas Green abolished chain and rope restraints, allowing patients to roam freely. Many of the patients were Civil War veterans whose families were unable to care for them. Black patients were admitted after the Civil War but were placed in segregated buildings until the 1940s. In the 1950s, Central State Hospital was the largest insane asylum in the country, some say the entire world. There were more than 12,000 patients housed on the grounds. Its campus resembled a small town, complete with a fire and police department, a school, a church, and its own power, water, and steam plants.

Thousands of people were sent to Milledgeville over decades, often with unspecified conditions, or disabilities that did not warrant a classification of mental illness. The hospital outgrew its resources, and the patient-physician ratio was a miserable 100:1 in the 1950s. Patients were subjected to inhumane treatments including lobotomies, insulin shocks, hydrotherapy, and early electroshock therapy. Children were subject to confinement in metal cages. Adult patients were forced to take steam baths and cold showers. Some were confined with straitjackets and treated with douches.

In 1959, the Atlanta Constitution’s Jack Nelson investigated reports of a “snake pit.” Nelson discovered that the thousands of patients at Central State were served by only 48 doctors, none a psychiatrist. To make matters worse, some of the “doctors” were actually patients who were hired off the mental wards. The series rocked the state. In the wake of the scandal, asylum staff were fired, and Nelson won a Pulitzer. The state, which had ignored decades of pleas from hospital superintendents, began to provide additional funding. By the mid-1960s, as new psychiatric drugs allowed patients to move to less restrictive settings, Central State’s population began to steadily decline. A decade before the national movement toward deinstitutionalization, Georgia governors Carl Sanders and Jimmy Carter began emptying Central State in earnest, sending mental patients to regional hospitals and community clinics, and people with developmental disabilities to small group homes. However, this approach has been riddled with tragedies, such as homelessness and drug abuse.

A 1999 U.S. Supreme Court ruling in a Georgia case allowed patients with mental health problems to choose community care over institutionalization if a professional agrees. Following a 2010 agreement with the federal government, Georgia moved all mentally and developmentally disabled patients to community facilities. The same year, Central State stopped accepting new patients. After legal battles and federal investigations revolving around patients’ rights, Central State Hospital and the entire Georgia mental health hospital system were downsized in 2011. Once encompassing more than 200 buildings, the actual state hospital part of Central State occupies only a half-dozen buildings on roughly 65 acres and currently serves about 150 criminal justice system defendants deemed mentally unfit to stand trial.

As the asylum buildings were vacated, four were converted into prisons and eventually closed. The Central State Hospital Local Redevelopment Authority (CSHLRA) was created in 2012 by the state to revitalize and repurpose the property. Led by Milledgeville native Mike Couch, the authority has worked with real estate experts to develop a plan for reusing the property for businesses, schools, and recreation. By the end of 2015, the Georgia Department of Behavioral Health and Developmental Disabilities (DBHDD), which operates at Central State, occupied only nine buildings. The CSHLRA has brokered several building sales for commercial uses and done such other work as erecting historical markers, but it has not taken control of all of the buildings. In 2021, CSHLRA unsuccessfully sought federal funding to acquire and either demolish or preserve several buildings, as reported in the Milledgeville Union-Recorder. That plan would save the Powell, save the facade of the Walker while razing the rest, and razing the Green and Jones buildings, an apartment building, and the steam plant.

In October 2022, it was announced that asbestos abatement would begin on the Jones, Walker, and Green buildings, and each one was fenced off. DBHDD claimed at the time that the abatement was an urgent response to trespasser-related safety issues and separate from any potential demolition or other long-term plans. But contractor documents obtained by SaportaReport showed the abatement was an interrelated part of demolition plans that only had yet to be approved and funded.

In July 2023, Governor Brian Kemp signed an executive order, clearing the way for the demolition and razing of four buildings on the Central State Hospital campus. These buildings are the Jones, Green, and Walker buildings and a fourth building known as the Wash House building which is located behind the Powell building. According to the state behavioral health board, the work could happen as early as the fall. DBHDD spokesperson Ryan King, explaining that the “timeline is to be determined.” King said that demolition was found to be “the only viable option” for the buildings and that a revitalization plan is still on the table that will have the Powell Building as a “centerpiece.” Kemp’s executive order states that the DBHDD had requested authority to demolish the structures via a June 29 resolution. A slideshow of items presented at the board’s June meeting says that demolition of the buildings “improves property marketability.” In the case of the Green, Jones, and Walker Buildings, trespassing issues were also given as reasons for seeking demolition authority.

The Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation and the Atlanta Preservation Center (APC) are voicing opposition. Georgia Trust President and CEO Mark C. McDonald noted that his group put the hospital campus on its “Places in Peril” list of endangered historic sites in 2010. “Since that time, we have been constant advocates for the preservation of these culturally and architecturally significant buildings, even going so far as to make grants to projects on the campus,” he said. “We would like to ask for a reprieve of this order to allow all parties to meet to pursue any avenues to avoid the demolition of these structures.” APC Executive Director David Yoakley Mitchell, in a July 27 letter to state officials, noted the complex history of the 180-year-old, 1,400-acre hospital campus, which was a pioneer in mental health in its day before becoming notorious for abuses and a focus of reforms. “The complexity and challenge of this discussion is fraught with emotion,” he said. “Yet the ultimate loss will be the experience of the patients that lived and died there, the families and residents affected by this place, and most of all, what it exposed of who and what we are. The removal of these buildings will be an erasure of all of that and more.”

Central State Hospital
The Powell Building is the oldest surviving building at Central State and was designed to resemble the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. The building was originally named the Center Building but was renamed after Dr. Theophilus Powell who served as superintendent from 1879-1907.
Central State Hospital
Patient wards are located in the wings and the central structure housed administration offices.
Central State Hospital
A patient wing inside of the Powell Building. Each door has these unique “bubble windows” that gave staff an unobstructed view inside the room. Over the years, the windows have slowly disappeared. Today, there are only two left in the patient wings.
Central State Hospital
Central State Hospital
Once admitted, patients who needed calming were placed in a special blue-colored room, if the soothing color was not enough, they would be chained to a chair in the corner.

Central State Hospital

Milledgeville
A quad of pecan trees is located in front of the Jones Building which has been vacant since the 1970s.
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Georgia’s state seal is on the facade of the vast and imposing Jones Building, a general-purpose hospital that served the asylum as well as the surrounding community of Milledgeville.
Central State Hospital
The interior of the Jones Building has been used for filming TV shows and movies like CW’s The Originals, a Vampire Diaries spin-off. The ornate plaster trim in the main lobby has disintegrated over the years from heat and humidity.
Central State Hospital
A row of autoclaves were once used to sterilize medical equipment. The square doors were coolers for patient remains.
Central State Hospital
A nurses’ station inside the Jones Building.

Central State Hospital

Central State Hospital
Morgue drawers sealed with metal doors once held the corpses of patients in the basement of the Jones Building. Today the building collapses from the top down, and falling debris covers the morgue floor.
Milledgeville
In 1883, the white female convalescent building was erected. The back portion of the building was razed, and a modern auditorium was erected in its place in 1949. The front portion was saved because it has a cornerstone inscribed with the hospital’s original name, Georgia Lunatic Asylum.
Central State Hospital
The Green Building opened in 1947 and housed schizophrenic patients who were likely to never leave. The building was in use for 30 years before it was closed and given to Baldwin County. It was last used by the Department of Children and Family Services and Head Start for gifted students and adult literacy.
Central State Hospital
Constructed in 1884 and opened in 1886, the Walker Building housed white male convalescent patients until it closed in 1974. Recently, the exterior was used in the opening credits of The Walking Dead.
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The Binion Building housed those deemed by the courts to be criminally insane.
Central State Hospital
The Brantley Building housed nursing staff and was once a certified nursing school. The school taught over a 100 female students to become nurses. At the corner of the Brantley Building was a light pole known as the “hang out” for many single men. Many first dates started at the light pole.
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These buildings were constructed in 1937 and converted into Rivers State Prison in 1981.
Milledgeville
As parts of Central State Hospital closed, several buildings were converted into state prisons. These prisons made up for the jobs that were lost, however, the buildings were not efficient and were also later abandoned. 
Milledgeville
Rivers State Prison held 1,100 medium-security inmates. The prison abruptly closed in October 2008.
Milledgeville
A guard tower overlooking one of the abandoned prison buildings.
Milledgeville
Some 2,000 iron markers at Cedar Lane Cemetery commemorate the 25,000 patients buried throughout the hospital grounds.
Milledgeville
The original markers, with numbers instead of names, once identified individual graves but were pulled up and tossed in the woods by unknowing prison inmates to make mowing easier.

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For more photos of Central State Hospital and other locations from across Georgia, check out my books Abandoned Georgia: Exploring the Peach State and Abandoned Georgia: Traveling the Backroads.

29 comments

  1. Really cool piece! (Saw your post in the community pool) There was an abandoned asylum not too far from where I grew up that I and others visited many times in our teen years. There is definitely a unique appeal and draw to those kinds of places.

    -John

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The Rockwell Mansion has been partially restored, and is on the market for $350, 000. I grew up in Milledgeville, now live in Atlanta, so that price seems like a steal.

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      1. It’s a steal, but you have to have VERY deep pockets to restore them as they should be done. No mass produced overseas crap can be used and real craftsmen should be doing it.

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  2. I’ve actually seen all these buildings myself while i was at a military school in Baland circle which is the entrance to the lunatic asylum . We were told that all the abanded prisons and hospitals, and mansions were haunted

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My grandmother died there. During her child bearing years she started loosing her hearing and became completely deaf. No one could communicate with her and she was always lost. Her family put her there because nobody took time to try to help her learn to communicate. Mother said she wasn’t crazy, only deaf . So sad, very sad.

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  3. After I initially left a comment I seem to have clicked the -Notify me when new comments are added- checkbox and now each time a comment is added I receive four emails with the exact same
    comment. Perhaps there is a way you can remove me from that service?

    Cheers!

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  4. I graduated from Georgia College in 1990. Part of my teaching degree was to log so many hours at Central State. I could not tell the staff from the insane. I even played checkers with a man that had killed his brother. I will never forget going there…

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  5. The reason I have family in Milledgeville is a few decades ago, on my mom’s side we had somebody who got shorted on their paycheck and took an axe to the boss’ house, broke down the door and killed him with said axe. He was sent to Milledgeville Asylum. Even after being deemed fit to leave, he chose to stay as a janitor there, as he was afraid he’d kill again. It’s neat to actually see it.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. My Aunt worked in one of the buildings that has been repurposed at Central State. Specifically, she worked in the giant kitchen that is right across from the original morgue. Her back dock looks over most of the grounds there. Also, back in the 80s, my uncle worked in the hospital itself. They had all sorts of people who were confined there, but one of the worst, at least for him, was a patient that was bed-bound obese. She also was HIV positive, and would attempt to bite anyone who attempted to move her. It would take at least 8 guys to get her moved from one point of the hospital to another for various doctors. It was not a great job.

    Finally, my aunt and uncle obviously live in Milledgeville. They have four daughters, and my uncle would get scared out of his mind when they were teenagers every morning. Their hair dryers had the same tone as the alarm for an escaped prisoner from the hospital.

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  7. I was once an inmate at Rivers in the 80s. The place was so primitive. Basically, not fit for human beings, but that’s what is expected from a state like Ga. They still have slavery, it’s simply instituted via the prison system. They should have torn that building down decades ago. Most of the crime committed there was by the administration. I discovered the warden at the time was using inmate labor for pay he received. I was there for years, and got a check for $25 minus tax. The eating area only held about 15 people at a time, it rained inside, only 3 people could use the toilet at a time, and you sat, side by side. The place was full of bugs, due to window problems. If it was meant to be a place for lunatics, by the time you left, you’d fit the bill. Tare that mother—— down.

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  8. In the 1940’s. there as a young girl who lived near us who was committed to this hospital . She never returned home. When they closed the hospital she was declared unfit for any type of rehab. Maybe she remained until she died. Gerri

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