I did some exploring this weekend!
This is an update to the post I made a while back about the Maryville
Center for Medically Complex Children. I had recieved information
from the Shadowlands Haunted Places index. The original information
is this:
"Chicago - Maryville Center For Medically Complex Children - The
Maryville Center For Medically Complex children was an institute for
drug addicted, handicapped, insane, and foster children. It was
mysteriously shut down, and boarded up for reason related to
asbestos. Located at Oak Park Rd. and Forest Preserve Rd. (Montrose
ave.) in Chicago, you must park about a mile away and make the trip
to the entrance on foot. Once inside you must pass numerous buildings
marked: A, B, C, etc. Follow the main concrete path and follow it off
to the left until you see a run down playground once used by the
children who lived at the center. Go past the swing set and the 2nd
slide you see and go between the two building before you. All but one
of the windows around you will be boarded up. The one window that is
not boarded up leads into the indoor pool. A main hallway can be
reached through a room called the 'pool office'. From there you will
find numerous stairwells that provide access to about 75% of the
entire center. There are many reports of people hearing the sounds of
children laughing, and in some instances even seeing people in white
robes walking around. Lots of paranormal activity takes place in this
abandoned asylum."
Anyway, my girlfriend and I made the drive over to Irving Park and
Oak Park (the correct intersection). It was broad daylight (about
3:00 PM) when we went in. We parked across the street from a gas
station on Oak Park Ave. by some houses. This way, the truck wasn't
conspicuous.
We casually marched through the wide open gate/driveway of the
facility. Hiking in towards the buildings, we were totally hidden by
the trees and brush that had overgrown and wrapped around the
buildings.
There were many outbuildings on the grounds. They were small, one-
story structures with odd pitched roofs that reminded me of Pizza Hut
or older A&W restaurants. These were villas. They contained
classrooms, and probably living quarters for the kids who used to
live there. I didn't explore any of these because I could see in the
windows that there was nothing much of interest inside.
I was looking for the building with a swimming pool.
My girlfriend and I continued walking and soon found a larger, two-
story building. There was some spray paint on the sidewalk regarding
some kind of tunnel pumps. THis sounded like steam tunnels to me.
Every single window on the building was sealed with a panel of
plywood. I didn't see any swimming pool looking area, but there was
a greenhouse in view. A panel had been pryed off by a previous
explorer, revealing a ragged, broken window. The window appears to
be lined with jagged broken glass. Indeed, on first view it appears
to be glass. In reality, its just pliable plastic, which snaps apart
at the slightest touch. It's not dangerous at all, and this is the
window we entered through. Crawling quickly through a small,
overgrown greenhouse, we climbed through a large open window and into
the building.
We soon found ourselves in an old classroom. It was apparently a
botany class. There were posters about growing seeds and stuff.
There was a little bit of light coming from the greenhouse windows,
and some coming from a securily locked up entry door by the hallway.
Other than that, the entire place was dark.
That's what struck me most about the complex. Everything is pitch
black dark, even in the daylight. This is because of the tightly
covered windows. Without a flashlight, you cannot explore this place
at all.
This is probably why there is very little vandalizing. There are
broken windows and stuff strewn on the floor, but not as bad as you
might expect. Practically no graphitti either. This is probably due
to the fact that most people can't explore without a flashlight, so
they leave the place alone. Except for a couple beer bottles (and I
do emphasize only a couple), the place is obviously not a party spot
either. This place is largely left alone. You'll have the comfort
knowing you aren't exloring the local party hangout. This place is a
perfect example of ideal urban exploration locale.
It is very creepy, walking around in this facility. It holds the
look of a high school, though many tell-tale signs indicate it
educated all ages. There is stuff left over from the old days of the
school. It litters nearly every room. Some rooms are full of art
materials, including paints and plaster casts. Other rooms are
obviously science rooms complete with the laboratory counters most of
us are familiar with since junior high. Other rooms were
mathematical, still containing calculations written on the chalk
boards. Some rooms are for younger kids. We found a room full of
board games, and a couple with toys.
This is all very disturbingly haunting in the darkness. You never
know what your light will reveal next. We were walking in a strange
chamber and suddenly came upon the warped timbers of a stage.
Shining my light out across the stage revealed a giant gymnasium
behind it. Whoa! The gymnasium was mammoth, and had an elevated
press booth and roller skates plastic hockey sticks strewn about.
There was even a flipped over pool table!
We found the swimming pool too. It was kind of neat. The area it
was in was better illuminated than most of the place. This is due to
the higher frequency of large broken windows (most explorers enter
through this room).
We explored the basement too. Long branching steam tunnels stretch
out beyond the building's foundation. We only explored a portion of
the tunnels. One direction featured about two inches of water which
we didn't feel like walking through. Another just kept twisting and
turning. I got creeped out by the sight of a totally submerged
boiler room also. Seeing the rusty stairs lead down into water and
disappear in the murkiness... Well, that kind of thing always gives
me the creeps. We soon returned to the first floor and continued
exploring.
The creepiest part of the whole complex was the stuff that seperates
it from most high schools. I'm talking about the stuff that shows
this place treated the mentally ill. There are grates on the
staircases so kids couldn't fling themselves off the edge. There
were numerous little showers too, for purposes I fear to imagine.
One section of the facility had little rooms connected by what at
first appeared to be windows. A couple were broken out by earlier
vandals (and now the rooms were locked up). I quickly realized it
wasn't a window but a two-way mirror. A person could be placed in
the small room while a psychologist examined them from the
neighboring room by looking through the mirror. There was even a
larger group version of this. It had a big long mirror extending
most of the room's length. Wierd.
The scariest thing we found is the room my girlfriend
called "lockdown." While walking in this section, we found a small
room with a window on the door. I could see in the window that the
room was tiled. At first, I thought it was a staircase going down to
the basement. Nope. It wasn't a janitor's closet either. It was a
room where an out-of-controll patient could be locked in and isolated
from everything and everyone. My girlfriend saw a small blanket on
the floor. Very creepy. Since the room was locked, we figured it
hadn't been entered since the place closed down, and the blanket
belonged to the last patient locked inside. Reflecting on this later
at night, I became quite emotionally disturbed and had trouble
sleeping.
The entire upper floors were bright and well lit, thanks to the
absence of plywood coverings. Most of the chalkboards still
contained some of the teachers' last writings. Numerous ones had the
date. One said "June 22, 1994. We're out of here!" Magazines and
newspapers on site indicated that this indeed was probably their last
day of school.
A couple of names were written on the board with a 1996 date. I
wrote my handle, "Captain Gambit 2003" on one of the upstairs chalk
boards, using the same chalk used by that room's teacher. I felt
like a vandal, tagging the place. I really am against all vandalism
during exploration. But since it was an erasable chalk board, I
didn't think I was doing any harm. Heehee.
There was a Bush/Quayle election poster... Heehee.
There was an open refrigerator up there too. It had a pie tin with
the fossilized remains of whatever cream pie it had. Ten years in
the open elements does wierd things to a slice of cream pie.
On the main floor there was a locked room. Inside the little window,
we could see two chairs with a rotary telephone, still plugged into
the wall. Since nobody had broken in and stolen the phone, I figure
this room has been untouched like this for the last nine years.
Nearly a decade, frozen in time! That's the coolest thing about the
school. So much stuff is still sitting, untouched, where they were
last left ten years ago! Cupboard, drawers, etc. Stuff still sits
where it was placed when the building was still full of life!
Anyway, I highly recommend checking this place out. It is full of
artifacts. It has a creepy history. People probably died there.
The atmosphere is spooky, and there is much to learn about the place
simply through examination of the artifacts. Not many people have
been inside since it was closed a decade ago. In urban exploration,
it's a great feeling to know you are seeing something very few people
get to enjoy.
I highly recommend checking it out, everybody. The facility is
wonderful. It's easy for beginners (this was my girlfriend's first
exploration of anything) and also extremely interesting/satisfying
for a veteran (I loved the place).
For gear, I recommend a flashlight, and possibly some boots if you
plan to explore the entire steam tunnel system. A breathing mask
would be a good idea too, since there are signs on the doors warning
of asbestos. We didn't see much asbestos stuff, though, so the risk
might be low. I dunno. If we return, we'll probably have masks.
Now what are you people waiting for? Go out there and explore!
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