"You'll Like It Here"-Book Review

“You'll Like It Here” The Story of Donald Vitkus Belchertown Patient #3394

2016

200 pages, plus 40 pages of pictures and documents

Levelers Press

Ed Orzechowski

Memoir

From the department of uncomfortable pasts comes this real-life account of a boy who lived through the inhumane conditions of the Belchertown State School.

For the uninitiated, my new hometown has some horrible blemishes. One of the many such stories from mismanaged state institutions over the past century. The Belchertown State School was closed in the 1990s, but long before that it lost its soul. Initially founded in 1922 as the School for the Feeble Minded, the 900-acre property changed its name over the years to accommodate fluctuating mores. At its onset in the school was well managed and fit with care. By the time Donald Viktus arrived in 1949 it was understaffed and overrun with pharma’s initial drug push, human experiments, sycophants and a general air of disdain for human life.

Donald was abandoned at one month old and spent six years in foster care at which point he was committed to the Belchertown State School. Years the boy waited for someone to come get him, for anyone to even so much as to write to him. This lack of contact could ruin even the most-stout of hearts, but Donald would suffer far worse treatment at the hands of his ‘protectors’. While any single act described by Donald via Ed, would be enough to induce vomit, you'll want to stay the course and get all the way through the school days section of the book. If you do, you will find out, the school days of Belchertown never left Donald.

Bullied and bandied about the ‘campus’, Donald Viktus was one of the better treated patients at the school. He witnessed other atrocities which hardened the heart, some of which will never be explainable. For 11 years Donald was a member of a place that categorized him as a moron, reduced him to a patient number and a series of medical notes in a file. Being part of the captive population, he was also ripe for various biological tests. From high fluoride in the water to frequent radiation exposure the students of Belchertown had little be happy about.

Keys meant access, access was denied to the many boys. Segregated from women their entire life aside from 2 dances every year. No fans, no space. Boys heaped upon each other with little regard for the individual or privacy. No toilet paper, no stanchions, no running water in the sink lavatories, ever. No Recess, no toys. Bad food, bars on the windows. Disgusting treatment of even minor offenses. Solitary confinement, starvation, neglect, that’s if they were not too drugged to act out. Scenarios I will not repeat here but no it unsettles the soul to know they occurred.

The sheer lack of guidance is what kills me about this story. The adults in the room lead this to happening. Further research into the school led me to a book called Crimes Against Humanity by Edward Ritchie. Ed was parent of a student at the school and was responsible for the lawsuit filed in 1972 that shined the light on the Massachusetts Department of Health and their many errors. He details the root maladies of installing psychiatrists as the head of the 15,000 person system rather than physicians. That, and coupling mental illness and the developmentally disabled had ruinous effects we are still feeling today. Labeling the students patients, as the school did should have been the only red flag needed.

The good news is that Donald got out. He tried running away more than once, but it wasn't until he learned to trust adults that he expanded himself enough to leave the institution with confidence. After being abandoned at one month old, and surviving six years in foster care and six more with no one writing or calling or sending any kind of care. Without one hug or touch of love for two decades, Donald got out. He went to Vietnam, got married and had kids of his own, but Belchertown never left him. One of the heart wrenching admissions he makes was of being jealous of his own children for the birthday parties they held. Close quarters, touch, smiling, so many things triggered intrusive thoughts for the rest of his life

Thanks to Donald and others who share their story, we can spread the weight of this amongst many shoulders. No one should have to curate grief and unease like this alone. For years before his death Donald Victus spoke with incoming health providers about his experiences so that they will never be repeated. With our help it never will.