Love Ann Lane

Ann Lane

I was named after my mother's sister, Ann.
The recent discussions surrounding Bull Street and the potential to develop the site have sparked my interest in my Aunt Ann's story.  She was a patient there from 1951 - 1970.
My mom - who keeps everything "important" shared some letters that Ann had written while  there.  They are touching and sometimes sad, but reflect the life of a young girl living in a tragically unique environment.

Ann Roma Lane's life began normal... an "A" student with a solid group of friends and a loving family. Shortly into her teens things began to unravel and became troubling and confusing to this small town family in Latta, SC.
Ann's slow descent into irrational behavior as she was entering adolescence was at first automatically accounted for as overactive hormones.  One of her childhood friends said she became "boy crazy" at a very early age.   At 16 she became pregnant, was taken to Florida to have the baby,  but when the father became aware of her pregnancy - he came to get her.  They were married and lived together until the baby came.  Her irresponsible behavior and total disregard for the baby's well being was more than he could handle and he brought Ann and the baby back and left them, literally, on her parent's doorstep.  Life for the family was chaotic.  My mom was away at college so the burden mostly fell on grandmother who tried to keep up with Ann and her young baby, grandmother's own pre-school son and her job at the local bank.  Ann's behavior became more and more irrational.  She would appear at the bank in only her housecoat, barefooted.  She smoked constantly and sometimes set things on fire with careless cigarettes.  She would get in the car with any stranger.   She dangerously ignored her baby.  According to a diary my grandmother kept she also threatened suicide and had to be watched constantly or she would "slip away".  It was obvious that something was dreadfully wrong. There were no mental health clinics or psychiatrists to turn to at the time in their small town.  The local doctor recommended that she be taken to Duke Hospital for testing.
They did and she was diagnosed with encephalitis (swelling of the brain), progressive and incurable.

Her baby was adopted by loving and close relatives.

November 2, 1951 at 18 years old, Ann was admitted to The State Hospital or "Bull Street" as it is called and remained there except for one trial home visit in October of 1952. The visit proved impossible.


My grandmother mourned for Ann and was a faithful visitor.  My grandfather could not seem to bear this tragic twist in his family's life and my mom does not remember him mentioning her again after she was admitted.  Although it suggests in one of her letters early on that  he had come to get her to take her home at one point.

Ann's letters came just after she entered the hospital.  They are tough to read because she is often pleading to come home.  What appears to be her first letter dated Jan. 2, 1952 says:  "They transferred me from Williams to the Center Building (Babcock?) and so I have made new friends over here and they all seem very nice." There are two letters both dated Jan. 14th, 1952.  One to "Dearest Mother," and one to "Dearest Dad,"  The one to Mother says:  "Well they moved me over here just because I was out in the yard.  When you left they called me to the main office and said I should not talk to every man that went by.  It is no fun whatsover." Dad's letter says: "I wish we could convince mom that I will stay at home if I do ever get there.  When and if I do finally get out I would like to go up and stay with the baby a little while.  After all, I have just about forgotten how he looks."

Some of the letters are just asking for money,  for candy, the state newspaper, cigarettes (she mentions cigarettes a lot) or a perm for her hair while another talks of "Myron" who she wants to marry and says he loves her too while another talks of a girl that died of epilepsy.  A letter dated  Feb. 1952 she signs off by saying "I'm getting as crazy as a bat."   She often changed her sign off name from Ann Lane, Ann Campbell, Angie Lane and Angie Campbell.

It must have been heart breaking for my grandmother to read those letters knowing that she couldn't handle or help her very sick child.

I recall one time she came to our house - I must have been 4 or 5 and thinking what an interesting character she was.   Loud, giggly and wacky.  I also remember visiting her at Bull St. once with my sister - we sat outside on a bench with Ann, and her tourette like speech was peppered with explicit language.  She was totally uninhibited in her speech and behavior.  

My dad went into Psychiatric Social Work and eventually worked at Bull Street.  Mom felt he made that choice partly because of Ann.

Ann died at The State Hospital after an extended period of being bed ridden at age 32,  in 1970. I remember Dad brought mom the news of Ann's death in the driveway of our Forest Acres home.

Having had a facility to house Ann, to give her medical care and something of a life and a community for a while brought a small measure of comfort to the family and still does.
I'm grateful.
It was a place for people who had no other place to go.

The State Hospital's history is incredible, unmatchable, compelling and often uncomfortable, but holds a wealth of stories like Ann's.

I have a few letters that inspired me to look closer into her life and what life was like at Bull Street.


By Betty Lane Kornegay-Kaneft and
 Lee Ann Kornegay