By Renae Ison • Photos by Josh Ison
Time, an inevitable, uncontrollable obstacle forged on perspective. In perpetual flux between cherished and endured, it moves. My initial impression when driving this narrow road beside a golf course, as the massive structure that is Waverly Hills Sanatorium gradually revealed itself, was a unique experience. It was an unforgettable experience. It was as if exiting time.
Upon arrival I gazed in complete awe at this place that seems to have always existed precisely as it stands despite the many hats it wore. What is now Waverly Hills Sanatorium was purchased by Major Thomas Hays in 1883 with the intent to establish a residence containing a schoolhouse, as options for education in the area were limited. Inspired by her fondness for the Waverly novels of Walter Scott, teacher Lizzie Lee Harris named it Waverly School. The area later became known as Waverly Hills. (Waverly Hills Sanatorium, 2024)
As anyone who has ever lived in Kentucky can attest our climate created an ideal environment for Tuberculosis to thrive. In response the Louisville Anti-Tuberculosis Association formed the Board of Tuberculosis Hospital in 1906 to establish a treatment center for Jefferson County, Kentucky. (Explore | Waverly Hills Sanatorium, n.d.) The Board of Tuberculosis Hospital acquired the property and Waverly Hills Sanatorium officially opened July 26, 1910.
As tuberculin increase as they wage their war through lungs, the outbreak increased. By 1915, Kentucky had one of the highest death rates from tuberculosis in the United States with 201 cases per 100,000 citizens. (Connolly & Gibson, 2011). Those infected were sent to
Waverly Hills Sanatorium for treatment. Though the exact number has been debated, over 50,000 patients succumbed to the disease within these walls. What is now referred to as “the Death Chute” was erected to transport the deceased, as not to alarm the patients. As I made the dissent into through tenebrous tunnel, a weight was felt. The immeasurable burden of those who posthumously made this journey, as well as those guiding them, was felt. Despair replaced now with a stillness so complete it needed no other context.
Waverly Hills Sanatorium formally closed in 1961. After being vacant for almost a year, the building was reopened in 1962 as Woodhaven Geriatric Center, a nursing home primarily treating aging patients with various stages of dementia and mobility limits, as well as the severely mentally handicapped. Woodhaven was closed by the state of Kentucky in 1982 after a Grand Jury inspection found several patient abuses, and the degrading state of the facilities. (Waverly Hills Sanatorium, 2024)
Many souls have been rumored to have never left, preternaturally existing as a moment in time. Waverly Hills Sanatorium is now known for various tales of ghost sightings. One of the most notable has been given the name “Timmy”. Sauntering through the halls you may come across balls strewn about the floor. As one of Timmy’s favorite games has been said to be catch, visitors leave these balls. Eagerly waiting with bated breath to see if, out of the ploutonia contained within the doorways, one may return. Waiting for the abyss to stare back. (The Ghosts of the Waverly Hills Sanatorium in Louisville, 2022) Some stories told are rooted in melancholy. It has been speculated a nurse (who in some iterations has been thought to be Mary Hillenburg) ended her life via hanging due to the fear of the stigma associated with an unexpected pregnancy in Room 502. Guests have been said to encounter unexplained occurrences attributed her presence, commonly a disembodied voice screaming the phrase “Get Out!” (Sonja,2021) Room 502, and the mythos surrounding it, have become the most recognized when discussing Waverly Hills Sanatorium,
When ascending to the fifth floor, which is the top floor, I looked out the many windows providing a very open view. The view, nothing but forest, can fill one with a sense of isolation (unsurprising as essentially Waverly Hills Sanatorium became a sort of self-sustaining community in effort to mitigate the spread of unrelenting and unforgiving disease). It was a sense of isolation accompanied not by forlornness but undisturbed tranquility. The same view as the many who called this place divorced from cacophonic modernity a home.
Waverly Hills Sanatorium is an exercise in history and the confrontation of mortality, and the pensiveness it invokes. Rather than the fear the ghosts roaming the expansive corridors, perhaps it’s the fear we will one day join them.
When leaving, my impression was somewhat different than the one held upon my arrival. When settling into our car on the gravel parking lot I was left with a sense as if I had just visited someone, and found an eagerness to return. I encourage anyone make the trip to Waverly Hills Sanatorium a place unencumbered by time.
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