Histories and Mysteries at the Grand Traverse Commons

Are these commonly-told tales about the former asylum myths, facts, or something in between?

By Greg Tasker | Jan. 25, 2025

It’s no surprise that a complex of distinctive aging buildings constructed to house and treat the mentally ill more than a century ago continues to pique the interest and imagination of visitors and locals alike. Old or new, true or false, the former Traverse City State Hospital is a treasure trove of stories.

Shut down as a state mental health institution nearly 40 years ago, the complex today is the home of the Village at Grand Traverse Commons, a repurposed campus of restaurants, stores, coffee shops, offices, and craft beverage establishments. 

Catherine Allen-Goodwin, a Traverse City native who lives near the former hospital and has served as a long-time tour guide, walked us through some of the myths and shared interesting tidbits of history from the property.

Myth: The hospital tunnels connect to downtown Traverse City.
Nope, you can’t get there from here. At least not by tunnel. Probably thousands of feet of tunnels were constructed at the former state hospital, but none of them ever connected to downtown Traverse City. The tunnels were primarily used for utilities, transporting heat, electricity, and hot water between buildings. Some tunnels were also used by staff to move from one building to another.

“We hear that every now and then from someone who has heard the tunnels connected from the asylum to downtown,” Allen-Goodwin says. “There was no tunnel connection to downtown. They wouldn’t have wanted patients getting into the tunnels and getting into trouble. It would have been a great way for patients to escape.”

The tunnels did, however, connect to the Munson Medical Center, which was once part of the state hospital complex. Most of the tunnels are blocked or have caved in and are full of hazardous materials. Visitors can experience a cleaned out stretch—a 400-foot-long steam tunnel—during public tours. “It’s the crown jewel of the tour,” Allen-Goodwin says. “It’s located under the parking lot area behind Building 50.”

History: Perry Hannah helped bring the hospital to TC.
Lumber baron and legislator Perry Hannah is one of the folks responsible for the state hospital being built in far-flung Traverse City in the late 19th century. Aware that Michigan needed another asylum—the two in southern parts of the state were full—he lobbied for Traverse City. He formed and headed a search committee to find a site, and although other more centrally located spots were considered, Traverse City won out. One of its key selling points was the abundance of water, artesian springs, in the hills above the property. 

Hannah knew that the lumbering industry in the region was waning and that another source of work was needed or people would begin leaving Traverse City, a place he loved. The Traverse City State Hospital became the city’s biggest employer for 75 years.

“Traverse City as we know it would not be here without this asylum in our backyard,” Allen-Goodwin says. “That generation of the Gilded Age was always contributing to their communities. They knew they couldn’t take their wealth with them. Hannah helped bring the library here too.” 

Myth: The walkways of the property were the inspiration for the Yellow Brick Road.
The Yellow Brick Road did not begin or end at the former asylum. While the bricks are, indeed, yellow, they have nothing to do with the children’s classic, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Still, every once in a while, a story surfaces about how the distinctive yellow bricks inspired author L. Frank Baum. The story goes that Baum vacationed with his family in Traverse City while the asylum was under construction. The sight of a long line of flatbed rail cars stacked with yellow bricks was a vision for the famed Yellow Brick Road.

“In reality, there is no connection between Traverse City, northern Michigan, and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, but it sure does make a great story,” Allen-Goodwin says.

Baum did spend time in Michigan, but much farther south in Holland. The inspiration for the Yellow Brick Road may have been a real stretch of yellow brick road outside the Peekskill Military Academy, a military school he attended.

(By the way, the bricks used to build the former asylum came from a brick yard in Greilickville, which is now the site of the Pathfinder School.)

History: The asylum housed a famous cow.
With a name like Colantha—wait, that’s Traverse Colantha Walker—how could a Holstein-Friesian possibly lead an ordinary life as a dairy cow? Named by the patients at Traverse City State Hospital, Colantha was born on the grounds in 1916. Until recently, Colantha held the Guinness Book of World Records for producing the most pounds of milk in a single year: 22,918 pounds of milk in 1926.

Colantha was part of the farm’s successful Holstein herd. In a 16-year period, she produced more than 200,000 pounds of milk (not to mention 7,500 pounds of butter). 

More than one dairy farmer has noted that Holsteins must be happy to produce milk. “She must have been ecstatic then,” Allen-Goodwin jokes.

Colantha died in 1932. Her tombstone can be found between two pine trees on the property of the Botanic Gardens at Historic Barns Park. There’s also a life-sized bronze statue of Colantha nearby in the Children’s Sensory Garden. 

Her legacy is about more than being a record-earning dairy cow; she was an example of the hospital’s successful efforts in running a self-sustaining farm with the help of patients and staff.

Myth: Nearby houses were built from stolen bricks.
The identical yellow brick houses opposite each other at the corner of Division and Seventh streets were not built from bricks stolen during the three-year construction of the asylum.

Although made of the same bricks, the owners of the homes—both masons—purchased the bricks from the supplier and retrieved some that had fallen off rail cars as the train rounded sharp curves on route from Greilickville.

Bonus fun fact: The state had to build a railroad to transport the bricks from Greilickville to the hospital. Nine million bricks were used in the construction of Building 50 alone.

“They were making bricks like crazy,” Allen-Goodwin says. “People had to ride on the flat bed to keep an eye on the bricks. They knew they were going to lose some, but once they hit the ground, they couldn’t use the bricks. They were considered inferior.”

Many masons were tapped to help build the campus. “The masons involved in doing this were set for life as far as jobs,” she adds.

History: Drug therapy got its start at the Traverse City State Hospital.
Traverse City State Hospital was not unlike other mental asylums. Many practices were standard procedures, including lobotomies and electric shock. These procedures were part of efforts to rehabilitate patients instead of just warehousing them.

During the mid-20th century, Dr. John (Jack) Ferguson, known for his speed in conducting lobotomies, arrived in Traverse City. What also made Dr. Ferguson stand out, however, was that he could relate to the patient’s predicaments. He had been a barbiturate addict and had spent time in mental institutions as well. Dr. Ferguson came to believe lobotomies and other procedures were not cures for mental illness.

His experimentations led him to drug therapy. He learned how to properly measure and administer doses of drugs, including combinations, to help patients. He has been noted as the first doctor in the country to treat his nursing staff like colleagues, allowing them to administer drug therapies as well.

“The results were phenomenal,” Allen-Goodwin says. “Patients were able to go home. They could now calm down and get a job. The state was so impressed they began sending the most disturbed patients to Traverse City.”

Myth and History: Division Street divided the city.
The street’s name, “Division,” might suggest the route divided one section of Traverse City from another. But that’s not the case.

“Growing up here in Traverse City, I could not figure out what the street was dividing,” recalls Allen-Goodwin. “It wasn’t until I became a tour guide that I learned how the street got its name.”

The route that would eventually become Division Street or U.S. Route 31 separated the expansive hospital grounds from other properties. “It makes more sense,” she says. “It was not dividing the city of Traverse City but dividing other property from the state grounds.”

The asylum encompassed 1,000 acres and was home to a working farm with animals, crops, orchards, and vineyards. It stood on its own at what is now the city’s western end. The property stretched from Front Street to the north to beyond Meijer to the south and west beyond the hills behind the campus. “It was all farmland,” Allen-Goodwin says. “That’s hard to imagine now.” 

History: The Administration Building, also known as Building 50A, is new (ish).
Building 50A stands out among the cluster of yellow brick, spired structures of the former hospital for a good reason. It’s not the original building.

The state demolished and replaced the original five-story, spired building in the 1960s because the structure could not meet fire codes. Among other things, the original building was known for its beautiful grand mahogany stairs. 

“The stairs were gorgeous, and people always ask what happened to them,” Allen-Goodwin says. “They ended up in a burn pile.” 

Designed in a Victorian-Italianate style, the 19th-century version of Building 50 was the first structure constructed and served as the original asylum. Some staff were also housed there. 

“If you’re going to work with them, you should live among them, [medical superintendent Dr. Munson] believed,” Allen-Goodwin says. “It made sense for the staff to keep an eye on what was going on, what triggered their behaviors. It also kept [patients] safe.” 

The repurposed two-story building doesn’t match the architecture of the wings on either side. There are hopes to one day restore Building 50A to its original design—blueprints still exist—somewhere down the (not yellow brick) road.

Myth: The Hippie Tree is haunted.
The Hippie Tree exists on the grounds, but it’s not the original Hippie tree. And none of the paranormal stories associated with either tree are true.

The original Hippie Tree, a Copper beech tree, stood along a sidewalk in front of Building 50. It became a gathering spot for students to hang out and smoke until it was chopped down. In later decades after the state hospital closed, students began congregating around a tree in the hills behind the buildings. That tree, a huge cottonwood, stills stands, noticeable because it’s been spray painted over the years.

“That tree was hidden, and students went up there to smoke and started spraying peace signs and other stuff on the tree,” Allen-Goodwin says. About some of those paranormal claims, she points out that “being a state hospital often brings on that sort of mystique. People want to know about ghosts and other things. That’s just the nature of what it is.”

History: Staff and tradesmen signed bricks.
Back in the day, the hospital did not have lounges for staff to rest and relax. Most of the staff worked 16 hours a day, six days a week. They escaped to the attic for breaks and a cigarette. They also would write their names on bricks. 

The oldest known signed brick was found in the attic of one of the cottages, with the name of an assistant chef who came to Traverse City from Florida. Patients also were known to scratch things on bricks, including poems. Throughout the campus, patients were encouraged to be creative, paint, write, or draw. Some of them were also non-verbal, and this was a method of communication. 

Allowing patients to paint murals was a precursor to art therapy, and there were once murals of cartoon and Disney characters all over the complex. A replica of one has been painted on a wall near Cuppa Joe in Building 50A.

To learn more about the myths and histories of the Village at Grand Traverse Commons, visit thevillagetc.com.