The Three Christs of Ypsilanti

by Milton Rokeach

  April 25. The ground card issue is brought up again. Leon says he had one in 1955, but that it was taken away from him. He says he doesn’t need a ground card, that Divine Providence will issue him another one.

  April 26. Dr. Donahue, resident psychiatrist on Ward D-16, joins us today for the daily meeting. Our object is to explore further the men’s attitudes toward the idea of the group ground card.

  “I want the old kind of card that you carry yourself,” Joseph persists. “I don’t need anybody to carry my card for me. Hell, I want to go out alone!”

  Leon substantially agrees. “I want to be an individual. I think your psychology is warped. I’m not going to bite for this. I don’t want no part of it.”

  Joseph points out to Dr. Donahue that Leon isn’t going to co-operate, so it won’t work. It is suggested to the men that since they cannot agree, the question of the ground card will have to be brought up again for further consideration in staff conference. Joseph becomes angry at this and says, in a manner which is unusually direct: “I don’t like this kind of punishment. I can’t go out when I want to go out. I don’t care for one!”

  Again Leon is in agreement with Joseph. “He was right when he called it punishment. It’s depressing psychology. I don’t care for it. I’ll get a cosmic ground card.”

  “I’m not crazy about this new system,” Joseph observes. “Soon it will be you can’t take a shit unless they agree with you. Hell, I want to take a shit and a leak on my own.”

  April 28. Since I have not attended the meetings for the past few days, I suggest the men tell me what this ground-card business is all about. Leon explains to me how Joseph feels and says Joseph is right. Joseph agrees with Leon. They are standing firm—individual ground cards or nothing!

  The two men shake hands but then Leon, to make sure we do not make too much of this show of camaraderie, says: “I don’t want any prejudice or jealousy to get into you persons, because truth is my friend.” I suggest that Joseph and Leon draft a joint statement stating their position, so that we can study it. Both decline.

  I then ask Leon what kind of ground card he would accept. He sets impossible conditions: (1) It must be made out to Dr. R. I. Dung. (2) It must be signed by the same resident psychiatrist who signed his original card five years ago, a doctor who has now been gone for three years. (3) It must not be signed by the current resident psychiatrist, who, in Leon’s opinion, is no doctor at all.

  —You’re really saying that you don’t want a ground card.—

  Leon replies: “I’ve already stated that I will get one signed by Dr. Black. I deserve a ground card and I know it.”

  Joseph reminds him that it is Dr. Donahue who is now the ward doctor.

  “That’s your belief, sir,” Leon replies.

  May 5. An aide, coming into the sitting room during meeting time, brings three individual ground cards made out to Clyde Benson, Joseph Cassel, and Dr. R. I. Dung. Clyde and Joseph accept theirs, but Leon, after inspecting his, refuses it. He states that he appreciates having his correct name on the ground card and he thanks the long-since-departed psychiatrist Dr. Black for signing it. (Actually, we had signed it for Dr. Black.) Nevertheless, he said, he must decline the card because it also contains Dr. Dukay’s signature. (Dr. Dukay is clinical director at Ypsilanti and his signature was obtained in place of Dr. Donahue’s, in deference to Leon’s objections. But Leon does not recognize Dr. Dukay as a doctor either, an attitude he maintains toward all the doctors at Ypsilanti.)

  May 6. Joseph gulps down his lunch hurriedly and with a big smile shows his new ground card to the nurse, asking to be let out. The nurse lets Joseph out. Leon and Clyde continue with their lunch. Leon says to Clyde: “Excuse me, sir, for that big burp. There is more tea, sir. Would you care for more?”

  Clyde finishes his lunch and goes out, using his ground card. Leon spends the afternoon alone in his sitting room.

  Meeting time, before supper. Leon is unusually friendly, greeting ward and research personnel with lilting salutations. Clyde is chairman and the meeting opens with a song. Leon invites the research assistant to join in the singing. He is very cheerful and lights everyone’s cigarette. He thanks Joseph—calling him Joey for the first time in many months—for washing the walls in their sitting room. He then asks what Clyde and Joseph saw outdoors. They talk in a friendly way about the pleasant spring weather and about the squirrels, birds, bushes, and insects.

  An aide comes in and offers Leon another ground card, this one without Dr. Dukay’s signature. Leon looks at it and says: “My intuition tells me there is no offense. I accept it. Thank you, sir.”

  May 9. Leon says he walked sixteen miles yesterday. He is very cheerful. Clyde and Joseph have also made good use of their newly issued passes. But, once outdoors, the three men go their separate ways.

  May 25. A letter arrives signed by Dr. Yoder[1] and addressed to all three men, appointing them to the Flora and Fauna Commission, and suggesting that they map out the flora and fauna to be found on the hospital grounds, preparatory to entering a float in the annual Patients’ Carnival which will be held in late June. Leon and Joseph express interest and pleasure. Clyde says that he will let Dung and Joseph take care of the request and he will take care of the money. He says that fourteen more cars of money arrived today and this will keep him very busy.

  Leon seems really interested, mobilized and organized. He is animated as he talks to Joseph about plans for the project. He expresses his ideas in a straightforward manner and accepts suggestions from Joseph and us without his usual negativism. A slight sour note is introduced when he suggests that to prepare a float they will need a list of materials and that he will see the occupational therapist about it. We suggest that he and Joseph go together. Leon balks momentarily but gives in.

  May 26. To help them with the task of identification, we bring the men two paperback books, one on birds, the other on trees. Leon accepts, saying the books will be very helpful in preparing the float. He appears more relaxed than I have seen him in a long time. But Joseph seems to be apprehensive and unsure whether or not he will be able to do a good job. (This fear of failure is a typical reaction for him.) He and Leon discuss the float, talking about trees, the leaf specimens they will collect, and the albums they will put them in. I suggest to Clyde that he get in on the project, to which he replies: “I’m all right; I listen.” When Leon asks Joseph for cigarette papers, Joseph pulls out a whole wad and gives them to him. Such generosity is unusual. During this interchange Clyde has fallen peacefully asleep.

  May 26

  Dear Dr. Yoder:

  As per your letter of May 25th instant, in regard to appoint the three of us, Joseph Cassel, Dr. R. I. Dung, Clyde Benson, I have followed suit: That is, so far.

  Mr. Dung will write you anent the birds.

  We shall do our best for everything.

  Yours truly,

  Joseph Cassel

  May 27. During the noon meal Joseph reminds Leon of their appointment with the occupational therapist. The two men leave the ward together immediately after lunch. They are seen shortly afterward, walking the grounds together, books in hand, examining some leaves and apparently conferring.

  May 31. Leon tells us he wishes to make an announcement. Instead of collecting actual specimens, he has decided to collect only photographs—cosmic photographs! He shows us his cosmic camera and his cosmic pictures, consisting of several layers of blank pieces of paper which he says are photographic plates, photographs, etc. Joseph says he can’t see anything on a paper which Leon has labeled the photograph of an elm tree. Leon laughs. “There’s nothing real about it,” Joseph says flatly. He says he will refuse to co-operate with Mr. Dung. “He’s too full of friction.”

  Leon then admits that he can’t see the pictures either. But he says he knows they are there. We point out that his approach may not meet Dr. Yoder’s expectations, since no one will be able to see the pictures. I offer him a real camera, which he refuses; Joseph can use it,
he says. He then shows us the cosmic album he is working on. “This book,” he asserts, pointing to the blank album, a home-made affair consisting of brown papers neatly stitched together, “shall be solvental to inner and outer problems.” He tells us that he has already returned a basket he had borrowed from the Occupational Therapy Department to hold the specimens. He won’t need it, after all.

  I ask him whether he is pulling our leg with his tale of cosmic pictures. At this he gets upset and says he doesn’t like to be ridiculed. To prove his point, he takes a cosmic picture of a lady visitor. He tells her to look “moderately serious,” and goes through all the motions of a commercial photographer, adjusting lights, camera, pose, and finally shooting the picture. He does all this with a seriousness far too grim to be classified as dead-pan comedy.

  June 1. It turns out that only Leon went to see the occupational therapist—without Joseph, after all. Here is her report:

  Patient came to O.T. after working hours in Vegetable Room and explained to me he was going to write a book. He had paper to make his own book, but needed materials to put the book together.

  1st. He would like for me to take him to the Furniture Dept. to ask them to drill holes one eighth inch apart through the paper to make it easier for him to lace the pages together.

  2nd. Now he would like to go to the sewing dept. to get enough thread for the book.

  3rd. “Will you please take me to the shoe shops, for I will have to have some wax for the thread to make it stronger.”

  4th. Patient asks if I would help hold thread while he runs the wax over it.

  5th. “Now Ma’am, will you please give me a needle and thread it for me, as most women are used to threading needles in sewing.”

  6th. He sat down in my dept. working very hard to pull the thread through the paper. I asked him if he was having troubles. He said, yes. The thread seems constipated, and he could now understand why book binders have ulcers.

  7th. “Ma’am, I am through. Will you please let me out and I will go upstairs and have this trimmed.”

  8th. The following morning he wanted to speak to me. He said, “Ma’am, yesterday you introduced me to the ladies upstairs as Doctor Dunn. I beg to differ with you, it is Doctor R. I. Dung, or just call me Rid.” I apologized and he thanked me. “I knew you would help me,” he said.

  June 3. Leon looks better than I have seen him for a long time. He smiles more often and is more friendly. Also, since he has a ground card he does not run off to the toilet as much as he used to.

  June 6. By bringing up the question of the float, we try to direct the men’s activities into more realistic channels, suggesting that they make a large map of the grounds and buildings and glue on leaves to represent different trees in their proper location. They all begin to talk about how to do it. Leon becomes almost enthusiastic about the project. Joseph is less enthusiastic, but agrees to help sketch the map showing the roads, walks, and buildings. Clyde says he will help collect the leaves. Leon, eager to begin the project, asks that the meeting be adjourned so they can get started right away. We try to get Joseph and Leon to go outside together. Neither wants to. They seem enthusiastic about the project—at least Leon is—but they will not co-operate with each other. Is it because they have special attitudes toward each other, or is it because they are schizophrenics and have great difficulty in relating themselves to a task co-operatively with other human beings?

  June 8

  Dear Dr. Yoder:

  This afternoon, I took in, to your secretary, my records on the trees and enough shrubberies, so that you and your secretary can assemble a record as you wanted, and as stated in your letter.

  And now, I’ll give you a list of the birds, which fly the hospital grounds. [Long list of birds follows.]

  Yours truly,

  Joseph Cassel

  June 9. Leon Scotch-tapes a large sheet of brown wrapping paper onto one wall of their sitting room. He explains that he had planned to draw a map of the hospital and the grounds for their float. But the paper is not big enough, so he tears it down and replaces it with a larger sheet—a roll of paper hung from one end of the wall to the other.

  Joseph wants to tear up the paper they have taken down. He asks Leon if he can tear it up, and Leon gives his permission. Joseph tears up the paper. Later we ask why he did this. “I’ve been tearing up paper right along,” Joseph replies. “I’m guilty of everything in the world—everything a man can do in the world I’m guilty of! And I don’t care. Just tore up the paper that was greasy. I’m not guilty of anything. I’m just in a mental hospital. You feel guilty but you’re not.”

  When I ask how they are progressing with the float, Leon explains his plans and says he is about ready to make the sketch, but, he adds, Joseph had become impatient and started putting in the buildings without measuring. This has not worked to Leon’s satisfaction. I then ask if they can co-operate using a new sheet of paper. They agree to try.

  In the course of gathering the material for the float, Leon uses the telephone. He speaks into it with some wonderment, and says afterwards that it was the first time in five years he had talked on a telephone.

  June 13. Leon talks about his cosmic book, which is nearing completion; he says he needs one more blessing to finish it. Joseph says he doesn’t think that people will believe in Leon’s book. “People don’t believe in unfacts.” Leon replies that Joseph’s foster father is a barracuda, and Joseph in turn retorts: “Why pay to see a comedy when we have a comedy right here?”

  June 16. I ask Joseph if Leon is ready for dismissal. He replies that Dung could get a job on the outside, that the last couple of weeks he’s been much better than he was. “You gave him an occupation and that makes him feel better.”

  It is clear that Leon and Joseph are getting along better now, even though they do not really want to work together on the Flora and Fauna Commission. And, with all his apprehensions about the success of the Flora and Fauna Commission and the float, Joseph is far more reality-oriented than he has ever been before.

  Today he sends a letter to Dr. Yoder.

  Dear Dr. Yoder:

  I have just been the recipient of a letter from you informing me, as it were, of the fine work I have performed for the commission.

  Yes, I have done my very best for the commission.

  I want and wish to thank you for the fine letter, which you have forwarded to me, giving me, as it were, recognition for the fine work which I have effected!!

  Yours very truly,

  Joseph Cassel

  June 23. A letter arrives from Dr. Yoder, addressed to Clyde Benson, Joseph Cassel, and Leon Dung,[2] reminding them about the approaching carnival on June 27. Leon answers immediately, apologizing for not answering sooner, describing the various trees, flowers, and birds they have discovered in their explorations, and discussing his progress in taking cosmic pictures. He ends the letter by politely pointing out that the first two initials of his name are R. I.

  June 26. Leon spends the whole day in the little sitting room, working on the wall mural. It is a highly detailed drawing of A building, with every brick in place, every window, every door drawn to scale.

  June 27. Carnival Day. By the middle of the warm, sunny afternoon, hundreds of people—patients, doctors, nurses, aides, other hospital personnel, and visitors—have gathered on the main street that runs through the hospital grounds, to listen to the band and to watch the parade go by. Gaily costumed patients, men and women, push gaily decorated hospital beds on wheels down the street. The floats depict various themes, mostly simple ones inspired by popular television programs—Have Gun, Will Travel; Wagon Train; I Love Lucy; Gillette Cavalcade of Sports. In this last, two prize-fighters, dressed in shorts and wearing gloves, box with each other down the street, inside a ring moved slowly along by four patients, each of whom holds up a corner. These floats are the result of a lot of hard work by occupational therapists, aides, and nurses, who have prepared them with whatever help they could mobilize amon
g the patients.

  The last float in the parade is pushed by Leon and Joseph. It is a box-like affair, simpler and less colorful than the others, covered all the way around with brown paper. From a distance it is impossible to see Leon’s painstaking duplication of A building. But one can clearly discern the few leaves and branches which have been Scotch-taped onto it. The two members of the Flora and Fauna Commission smile as the crowd greets them with a round of applause.

  Later in the day, Joseph and Leon prepare separate reports for Dr. Yoder.

  Dear Dr. Yoder,

  The float for the tree commission, as you wanted, has appeared in the parade.

  We were last on the parade.

  Mr. R. I. Dung and I pushed the cart in the parade, i.e., I helped Dung.

  Dr. Dung worked hard for or by putting or placing the leaves and flowers upon the paper, as he did the flag and a sketch of A Bldg., which he both sketched.

  Mr. Benson helped by carrying the leaves when I picked them.

  Yours truly,

  Joseph Cassel

  P. S.: Dr. Dung also built the rack—wooden rack. Dr. Rokeage and Dr. Spivak started with us to pick leaves, but they had to go somewhere. In other words, they helped to get started.

  Addendum

  You have just sent a letter in which you say that you want a joint report “final joint report”—“signed by all of you.”

  We are all happy over the work we have completed for the Flora and Fauna Commission.

  This our final joint report for the letter on the float is in this letter.

  Clyde Benson

  Joseph Cassel