Austin State Hospital

Texas's first mental institution, opened in 1861 as the Texas State Lunatic Asylum. At its peak it was basically its own little city — power plant, ice factory, bowling alley, barbershop. There's a cemetery on the grounds with about 2,900 former patients buried in it.

The Austin State Hospital, established in 1856 as the Texas State Lunatic Asylum, stands as the first psychiatric facility west of the Mississippi River. For over 165 years, this sprawling complex has witnessed the full spectrum of mental health treatment--from the optimistic Kirkbride design philosophy to the horrors of electroshock therapy, prefrontal lobotomies, and hydrotherapy. The spirits of thousands who suffered and died within these walls have seemingly refused to depart.

The original 1861 building, now housing administrative offices, ranks among Texas' oldest standing public structures. Despite the original architect's progressive ideals, the hospital's history includes dark chapters: African American patients were confined to the basement against Kirkbride's explicit wishes, subjected to the institution's earliest and crudest treatments in conditions that defied the era's already limited understanding of humane care.

The cemetery on the grounds holds approximately 2,900 graves, including Dallas founder John Neely Bryan, who was committed for alcoholism and died here in 1877. When portions of the cemetery were relocated, many bodies reportedly remained in place, their resting places paved over by development. Staff and patients continue to report encounters with those whose graves were disturbed--shadowy figures wandering grounds that were once their final resting place.

The East Wing has become the epicenter of ghostly activity. Paranormal investigators have documented pockets of freezing air, moving shadows, and electronic voice phenomena throughout its corridors. The Lady in White--believed to be a former patient who died here--has been spotted wandering the grounds for decades, her sorrowful form appearing most frequently near the old hospital cemetery at twilight.

As an active psychiatric facility, public access remains limited, but staff and patients alike report hearing footsteps in empty corridors, doors slamming in sealed wards, and the unmistakable sounds of suffering echoing from rooms that have stood empty for decades.