A phrase used by many local newspapers, “over the hill to the poor house,” embodies the distaste toward poorhouses from the communities they were situated in. The phrase not only has geographic connotations referring to the idea that the poorhouse existed “over there” but also played off the phrase of a person aging and being “over the hill” at some point. Despite these socially charged views from mid-nineteenth-century America, the poorhouse was an essential institution in the medical infrastructure of the country. So important, in fact, that some institution of its kind was mandated by the final governor of the Northwest territory, prior to Michigan’s statehood (source: Tri-Cities Advance, July 14, 1981). What seem as mainstay institutions of the modern medical landscape– nursing homes, psychiatric care facilities, hospitals, and the like– are rooted in what David Wagner calls this “Forgotten Institution" (Wagner's book is entitled The Poorhouse: America's Forgotten Institution). 

It is essential to note that the poorhouse– also called the poor farm, community farm, or a plethora of other names– is distinct from a workhouse or any other mandated, typically of a disciplinary nature, work-life program. Patients, referred to as inmates, admitted to the Ottawa iteration of the poorhouse are no different from those taken in all over the country. The name itself (poorhouse) is a bit of a misnomer. While the concept was invented with the idea to care for those who fell on hard times financially, it evolved into a catch-all concept for all persons who were unable to care for themselves independently. The provisions branched out to those who were, by late 19th-century and early 20th-century standards, "poor" of mind, morals, or health. 

The Ottawa County Poor Farm (or, in short, Poor Farm), on which this project is based, is no exception in this regard, but was unique in comparison to nearly all other poor houses across the nation, let alone the state. Located just north of the Grand River on Leonard St., formerly Grand River Rd., the Poor Farm began operation in 1866 (Announcement of Purchase of Really Farm on February 14, 1866). Beginning as a crude form of what it would end as, the Poor Farm employed a superintendent and a few other employees to care for the residents. These superintendents served, on average, 20 years. (E.g. for more about Mr. Lillie, the first superintendent, see Lakeside Register, May 3, 1876). In the institution's closing days in the 1970s and 1980s, Sara and Glen Collison, a nursing graduate and an agricultural graduate, respectively, served as the final superintendents (source: Tri-Cities Advance, July 14, 1981).

The quality of a poorhouse, though, is judged beyond its superintendents, and rather on its productivity and hospitality. Like many poorhouses at the time, the Ottawa County version featured an operating and lucrative farm. A 1932 report of its total finances shows a sale of poultry, livestock, eggs, and harvested crops for $687 at the end of the year (source: Coopersville Observer, September 3, 1932). Though cast away by society, some residents taken in were still able-bodied, some limited in work they could do, and others completely bed-ridden. But work was not only stacking bales of hay or milking cows; for some residents, work meant changing bedsheets, or even providing entertainment. This was the heart of the Poor Farm: work was purpose, and purpose was life. 

By the 1950s, only one other poorhouse in the state operated a similar farm, being Midland’s poor farm, though not nearly to the same degree of productivity (source: “New Haven,” Proposal for improved buildings on the poor farm campus). Not thirty years later, 1977 to be exact, the Ottawa County Poor Farm was the only remaining operating poor house in Michigan (source: Detroit News, February 10, 1977). This period of time saw the closure of a majority of poorhouses throughout the country. Medical care, primarily psychiatric care, places became commonplace and social security was the standard for the newest generation; and sending off loved ones was no longer required or recommended. Ottawa County's Poor Farm, renamed as Community Haven, remained in operation for twenty-three more years before closure in 2000. During this last leg of its tenure, the Community Haven became the gem of the community, with people not seeing it as a chore to live there, but instead, as a privilege. Those who lived and worked at the Poor Farm were there nearly completely of their own accord. The turnaround done by this institution through its astounding 134 year history is unprecedented, and thanks to it, helped to destigmatize the culture of poorhouses.