52 Ancestors: Institutionalized: The Tragic Story of Jay "Jaybird" Roe

Some relatives leave behind stories of triumph and success. Others, like my 2x great grand uncle Jay "Jaybird" Roe, leave stories that reflect the harsh realities of a different era – stories that remind us how far we've come in understanding and treating medical conditions, yet how far we still have to go.

Born around 1900 in Kansas, Jay first appears in the 1910 census as a 7-year-old boy living with his father Jerry Rae in Otoe, Noble County, Oklahoma. The family, though they attempted to claim Native American heritage on census records, were actually Romani Travelers. Like many nomadic peoples throughout history, they faced prejudice and struggled to find acceptance in mainstream American society.

Jay's life would be marked by his epilepsy – a condition deeply misunderstood in early 20th century America. During the 1920s and 1930s, epilepsy was heavily stigmatized and often conflated with mental illness or intellectual disability, even though many people with epilepsy had normal intelligence. The prevailing medical understanding, societal attitudes, and lack of effective treatments meant that people with epilepsy were frequently institutionalized, regardless of their actual mental capacity.

Newspaper articles mention that Jay was a World War I veteran. While I've found no military records to confirm this service, it's quite possible that his epilepsy resulted from a head injury sustained during the war. Many veterans returned from WWI with traumatic brain injuries that later manifested as seizure disorders, misunderstood and stigmatized in that era.

The first documentation of Jay's institutional journey comes from newspaper accounts in April 1924. Multiple Oklahoma newspapers reported that "a petition was filed against Jay Roe, of Cement, charging him with insanity." Following a hearing on April 16, 1924, he was "ordered sent to Norman" – referring to the Central Oklahoma State Hospital in Norman, Cleveland County. He was only about 24 years old.

The Norman facility had opened in 1895 and became Oklahoma's largest mental health institution. By the 1920s, conditions there were grim. The hospital was severely overcrowded – by 1938, it housed 2,598 patients, far beyond its intended capacity of 1,803. Beds were double-decked, and patients were packed into wards, porches, and even near hydrotherapy tubs. The facilities suffered from poor maintenance with broken floors, cracked walls, falling plaster, and inadequate ventilation. During the Great Depression, budgets were slashed, and staff shortages led to excessive use of physical restraints. The hospital housed not only those with mental illness but also elderly individuals and others for whom the state had no other facilities, creating what was described as a "hopeless, tired atmosphere."

Six years after his commitment, the 1930 census confirms Jay was still a patient at the State Hospital in Norman. The record shows him as a 28-year-old single man, born in Kansas. Like many institutionalized individuals of that era, he had effectively lost his freedom and autonomy due to a medical condition beyond his control.

The poor record-keeping at these institutions is evident in the inconsistencies and gaps in Jay's records. The 1930 census lists him as 28 years old, but based on the 1910 census, he would have been closer to 30. Later, his death certificate would mark his age with question marks and list many details of his life as "not known" – a sad testament to how these institutions failed to maintain even basic information about the people in their care.

The most heartbreaking chapter of Jay's story unfolds in a newspaper account describing him as a "stranger sent to asylum." While working as a berry picker, Jay suffered a seizure while sitting at a campfire. He fell into the fire, severely burning his right leg below the knee – the flesh "fairly baked to the bone." Without money for private medical care, he was initially sent to the county farm after treatment by a Dr. Newman. Later, it was discovered that Jay "was of unsound mind and had previously been in an asylum."

The county physician determined that Jay's injured leg would require amputation. Since he couldn't afford medical care, he was ordered sent to an asylum where the amputation would be performed "free of charge." The article mentions that a county clerk had contacted one of Jay's brothers who requested he be sent to a government hospital in Texas. This brother was likely Piere, who lived in Texas at the time. Despite the distance and years of separation, Jay's family clearly still cared about and stayed in touch with him. His other siblings – Frank in California, Jess in Colorado, and Bessie in Oklahoma – were scattered across the country, making Piere the most logical family connection for the Texas request.

Despite his brother's wishes, Jay was taken to Nevada State Hospital #3 in Missouri. This institution, which opened in 1887, was one of Missouri's major psychiatric facilities, serving the southern part of the state. Like Norman, the Nevada facility reflected the era's limited understanding of mental health. Treatments were rudimentary and often harsh, including bloodletting, leeching, insulin shock, ice baths, sensory deprivation, and prolonged restraints. Many practices would be considered inhumane by modern standards. Patients could be tied to chairs for days or otherwise restrained due to lack of effective treatments or staff. The reasons for admission were broad, ranging from genuine mental illness to behaviors deemed socially unacceptable or misunderstood medical conditions like epilepsy.

It was at Nevada State Hospital where, on May 27, 1932, at just 32 years old, Jay died of tetanus. His death certificate lists his occupation as "not known," and many details about his birth and parents were recorded as "not known" – further evidence of the dehumanizing effect of institutionalization. Jay was buried in the Nevada State Hospital #3 cemetery, one of countless patients laid to rest in anonymous institutional grounds.

Jay's story raises questions about how his life might have been different had he been born in a later era, with access to modern epilepsy treatments and better understanding of war-related brain injuries. The fact that his family maintained contact with him – with his brother Piere even attempting to arrange his transfer to Texas – shows that despite the institutional separation, family bonds remained.

Jay's short life, spent largely within institutional walls, reminds us of the countless individuals throughout history who were hidden away due to conditions we now understand and treat. His story deserves to be remembered and told – not just as part of my family history, but as one example of how society's treatment of those with epilepsy and other neurological conditions has evolved over time.

His life was difficult enough being a Romani Traveler – then add his condition to it, and one can only imagine the sad and difficult life he endured, not led, but endured. For those interested in learning more about Jay's family and their Romani Traveler heritage going back to his great-grandparents, I've explored this history in my book "The Last Wagon," which tells the story of my Romani ancestors and their journey through America.

As I place this virtual flower on Jay's memory, I hope that by telling his story, some small measure of dignity is restored to a life that society of his time deemed unworthy of freedom.

Sources

Census Records

1. "1910 United States Federal Census." Year: 1910; Census Place: Otoe, Noble, Oklahoma; Roll: T624_1264; Page: 4a; Enumeration District: 0152; FHL microfilm: 1375277. Ancestry.com. https://www.ancestry.com/sharing/25166045. Ancestry Record 7884/153320337. Accessed 27 April 2025.

2. "1930 United States Federal Census." Year: 1930; Census Place: Norman, Cleveland, Oklahoma; Page: 9B; Enumeration District: 0023; FHL microfilm: 2341632. Ancestry.com. https://www.ancestry.com/sharing/25166047. Ancestry Record 6224/47130688. Accessed 27 April 2025.

Death and Burial Records

3. "Missouri, U.S., Death Certificates, 1910-1971." Missouri Office of the Secretary of State; Jefferson City, MO, USA; Missouri Death Certificates, 1910-1969; Certificate Number: 18489. Ancestry.com. https://www.ancestry.com/sharing/25166044. Ancestry Record 60382/549085. Accessed 27 April 2025.

4. "U.S., Find a Grave® Index, 1600s-Current." Find A Grave Memorial ID 65162632. Ancestry Record 60525/25126316. Accessed 27 April 2025.

Newspaper Articles

5. "Stranger Sent to Asylum." [Newspaper title and date unknown]. Details epileptic seizure resulting in severe burn, subsequent transfer to asylum, and planned amputation.

6. "Fort Cobb Record." Thu, Apr 17, 1924, Page 4. Details petition filed to commit Jay Roe to insane asylum, hearing on April 16, 1924, and his transfer to Norman, Oklahoma.

7. "The American-Democrat." Anadarko, Oklahoma, Wed, Apr 16, 1924, Page 1. Details petition filed against Jay Roe of Cement charging him with insanity, trial on April 16, and order to be sent to Norman.

8. "The Apache Review." Apache, Oklahoma, Fri, Apr 18, 1924, Page 1. Notes Jay Roe was charged with insanity on April 14 with hearing set for April 16.

Historical Context Sources

9. "Institutionalization of People with Epilepsy in the 1920s–1930s (Oklahoma & Missouri)." Research compilation with multiple citations regarding treatment of epilepsy during this period. Referenced citations include materials from Oklahoma Historical Society, Minnesota Developmental Disabilities Council, Emory University Department of Neurology, Missouri Department of Mental Health, and various academic journals.

10. "Central Oklahoma State Hospital (Norman, OK) and Nevada State Hospital (Nevada, MO)." Research compilation detailing conditions at both institutions during the 1920s-1930s. Referenced citations include materials from Oklahoma Historical Society, University of Oklahoma, SGF Citizen (Ozarks Alive), Missouri State Parks, Vernon County Historical Society, and various academic and historical resources.