A photo taken at Crittenton General Hospital in 1965 shows young infants in the care of nurses (photo courtesy of Patricia Ibbotson’s Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers and the Detroit Public Library collection). Most infants born here were placed for adoption.
This week I read a wonderful photo history book on the hospitals, orphanages, and mental health facilities that were built and operated in Detroit and the surrounding area from the 1800s through the late 1900s. The slim tome, called Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers, by Patricia Ibbotson, is a great piece of storytelling. It shows how our society, in one major metropolitan area, cared for the sick, the infirmed, and the needy.
Ibbotson notes, “All of the hospitals, as well as homes for the aged and orphans, evolved from the poorhouse system.” She also notes most were founded by religious orders. Orphanages stand out for me because I am by historic reckoning a child placed in institutional care: in my case, I was given up for adoption and put into foster care for more than five weeks, making me a bastard, orphan, and foster kid all at once.
Patricia Ibbotson’s 2004 photo history book, Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers.
Ibbotson’s book documents nearly a half-dozen orphan facilities, describing the “illegitimately born” and discarded infants as “foundlings,” and their shamed mothers as women who had “fallen by the way.” In the United States, society viewed both groups as outsiders and, like most of Europe, treated them poorly, if not lethally well into the 20th century.
According to Ibbotson’s research, Detroit had more than a half-dozen orphanages for homes for “unfortunate ones”— meaning the discarded infants—before 1900. Detroit’s long history of dealing with foundlings or so-called illegitimate babies resembled approaches used in other major cities, like New York City and its New York Foundling Hospital. The treatment or maltreatment of these infants left at these facilities in big cities helped spur the creation of the U.S. Children’s Bureau and reforms to address well-documented abuses of discarded infants in the early 1900s. That organization played a key reformer role making adoption a safer system in the United States, which personally impacted my life after I was born.
Detroit, a city of fallen women and foundlings
A shot from 1912 of the Detroit Woman’s Hospital and Foundlings Home shows some of the many illegitimately born babies in its care (photo courtesy of Patricia Ibbotson’s Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers and the Wayne State University collection).
Like New York City, Detroit was home to a large hospital dedicated to women and their “foundling” kids called the Detroit Woman’s and Foundling Home, which opened in 1869, created by a religious order to care for these socially scorned outcasts. It later became Hutzel Women’s Hospital.
Detroit also had multiple Florence Crittenton maternity homes and hospitals, which first opened in 1897 and later in grander fashion with opening of the Crittenton General Hospital in 1929, north of downtown. There were five homes and hospital/homes in all. Crittenton General Hospital, with three wings and dormitory facilities that also housed single pregnant mothers, became a future epicenter of adoption promotion in Michigan in the boom adoption years after World War II.
My life story began there, and that story was hidden from me for decades until I untangled the mystery, found my birth records, and put together the pieces of a tale showing how infants like me were part of a national system that separated millions of families in every state and territory. I recount this complex, national story in my newly released memoir, You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are (purchase here).
Crittenton General Hospital of Detroit is shown in a photo, taken shortly after its opening in 1929. I was born and relinquished into adoption here.
I requested Ibbotson’s book through my local library, hoping to find an image of the maternity hospital where I was born and then given up for adoption. That facility, Crittenton General Hospital of Detroit, was one of the nation’s largest maternity hospitals—it had 115 dormitory beds and two wings devoted to maternity care, according to Crittenton records. The Florence Crittenton Association of American and National Florence Crittenton Mission, which ran it and dozens of similar homes and hospitals for single pregnant women, promoted adoption in the three decades after World War II. I describe the significance of the hospital in my memoir and study of the American adoption system and experience called You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are.
A picture and its meaning
The picture included in Ibbotson’s book of Crittenton General Hospital could not have been more meaningful. It is a shot reportedly taken in 1965, the year of my birth, in front of the hospital. It shows six nurses in white outfits, each holding very young infants, all presumably being future adoptees. The cut line described the facility as a place for “’unfortunate women and girls’ and their babies.”
That same shot shown above, taken of Crittenton General Hospital in 1965, shows likely future adoptees in the care of nurses, though not every child born here was relinquished. Note, the cut line information has some inaccuracies from the source (photo courtesy of Patricia Ibbotson’s Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers and the Detroit Public Library collection).
On my computer, I zoomed in on the faces, wondering if I am in the half-dozen infants in the shot. I would have big ears, and I did not see that in two of the faces that are visible. The chances are perhaps one in several hundred I could have been captured in this unknown still, that is with the historical collection at the Detroit Public Library.
Unfortunately the picture and Ibbotson failed, like nearly every official source I have consulted, to even mention the word adoption, despite the hospital’s central role in that institution for the entire state and region.
My efforts to find the number of relinquished babies all failed, which I describe in my book in more detail. However, I peg the number of relinquished number of infants from Crittenton General at well over 20,000, mostly in the decades after the war, til the time of the hospital’s closing in 1974. It was torn down in 1975.
Based on all records I’ve found and my own original birth certificate, the cut line for this picture listed the wrong address for the photo as East Elizabeth Street, which is the address for the former Florence Crittenton Hospital, near downtown Detroit. Crittenton General Hospital was located at 1554 Tuxedo Street. Also the date of the hospital’s closure, according to the Detroit Free Press and other sources I consulted for my book, is 1974. The cut line lists 1976.
For additional information on the history of the National Florence Crittenton Mission, I can recommend a couple of sources:
Kunzel, Regina. Fallen Women, Problem Girls. Unmarried Mothers and the Professionalization of Social Work, 1890–1945. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1993.
Wilson, Otto, Robert South Barrett, and National Florence Crittenton Mission. Fifty Years Work With Girls, 1883–1933: A Story of the Florence Crittenton Homes. Alexandria: The National Florence Crittenton Mission, 1933.
