A Family Visit to the Institution that Treated his Father for Leprosy Brings Bittersweet Homecoming
In November 2016, a diverse group of family members – including the author and her two young girls - embarked on a journey from New York City to Carville, Louisiana, where her father had spent nine years at the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center as a teenager in the 1950s.
This poignant homecoming was bittersweet for both the author's dad and herself. For him, it marked his first visit back to the institution that had treated him for leprosy, an experience that had left him with lasting physical and emotional scars. As they arrived at the center, now partially occupied by the National Guard, he couldn't help but notice the significant changes in appearance and atmosphere.
"We flew from New York City to New Orleans on November 28, 2016," she recalls. "Our rental car followed the path of the Mississippi northward... snaking past suburbs and swamps, tin-roofed shacks and dirt roads until we reached the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center, formerly known as the Louisiana Leper Home, in Carville."
Their visit was a mix of personal reflection, research, and reunion. The author had recently started writing her novel, "King of the Armadillos," inspired by her father's experience at the center. Her dad had agreed to help access material from the archives of the National Hansen’s Disease Museum.
As they explored the grounds, she noticed how the institution had been transformed over time, with neatly manicured lawns and ornate gardens, yet still surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Upon arrival at the infirmary-turned-military-conference-accommodation, he was greeted by the author's two-year-old daughter.
"I tried to catch my father’s eye," she writes, "but I couldn’t read his face. He was looking down at my two-year-old daughter, guiding her up the concrete steps." Her question about whether it smelled different sparked a thoughtful response from her dad: "No... it doesn’t smell like a hospital anymore."
This bittersweet homecoming allowed them to delve deeper into their family's history and connection with the institution. The author recounts how her father had been diagnosed with Hansen’s Disease at 16 and spent nine years in isolation before being cured. Her research shed light on the complex emotions he must have experienced during his time there, from fear and anxiety to resilience and determination.
A fascinating aspect of their visit was the impact of Stanley Stein's patient-run magazine, The STAR, which helped humanize Hansen’s disease patients and raise awareness about the disease. The author notes how her father met Stanley in the infirmary and became an active participant in the publication process, learning to set linotype and work the printing press.
Their walk through the grounds brought back memories of Mardi Gras celebrations, where her dad had enthusiastically participated, constructing floats, making masks, decorating the ballroom, and performing special numbers with his barbershop quartet. The author reflects on how these experiences – both joyful and challenging – shaped her father's life and helped him survive leprosy.
As they explored the archives and grounds of the institution, the family discovered how Carville had been a formative experience for her dad, one that continued to influence his life after he left the center. He went on to serve in AmeriCorps VISTA, became a social worker, printer, and lab technician, and remained politically active.
Their visit marked an opportunity for healing and reconciliation between past and present, highlighting how the institution had become an integral part of their family's story. For her father, it was a chance to reconnect with his roots, while for herself, it was a way to understand her own connection to this complex chapter in American history.
This poignant journey serves as a testament to the enduring impact of the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center and its former patients on our collective understanding of leprosy, stigma, and resilience.
In November 2016, a diverse group of family members – including the author and her two young girls - embarked on a journey from New York City to Carville, Louisiana, where her father had spent nine years at the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center as a teenager in the 1950s.
This poignant homecoming was bittersweet for both the author's dad and herself. For him, it marked his first visit back to the institution that had treated him for leprosy, an experience that had left him with lasting physical and emotional scars. As they arrived at the center, now partially occupied by the National Guard, he couldn't help but notice the significant changes in appearance and atmosphere.
"We flew from New York City to New Orleans on November 28, 2016," she recalls. "Our rental car followed the path of the Mississippi northward... snaking past suburbs and swamps, tin-roofed shacks and dirt roads until we reached the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center, formerly known as the Louisiana Leper Home, in Carville."
Their visit was a mix of personal reflection, research, and reunion. The author had recently started writing her novel, "King of the Armadillos," inspired by her father's experience at the center. Her dad had agreed to help access material from the archives of the National Hansen’s Disease Museum.
As they explored the grounds, she noticed how the institution had been transformed over time, with neatly manicured lawns and ornate gardens, yet still surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Upon arrival at the infirmary-turned-military-conference-accommodation, he was greeted by the author's two-year-old daughter.
"I tried to catch my father’s eye," she writes, "but I couldn’t read his face. He was looking down at my two-year-old daughter, guiding her up the concrete steps." Her question about whether it smelled different sparked a thoughtful response from her dad: "No... it doesn’t smell like a hospital anymore."
This bittersweet homecoming allowed them to delve deeper into their family's history and connection with the institution. The author recounts how her father had been diagnosed with Hansen’s Disease at 16 and spent nine years in isolation before being cured. Her research shed light on the complex emotions he must have experienced during his time there, from fear and anxiety to resilience and determination.
A fascinating aspect of their visit was the impact of Stanley Stein's patient-run magazine, The STAR, which helped humanize Hansen’s disease patients and raise awareness about the disease. The author notes how her father met Stanley in the infirmary and became an active participant in the publication process, learning to set linotype and work the printing press.
Their walk through the grounds brought back memories of Mardi Gras celebrations, where her dad had enthusiastically participated, constructing floats, making masks, decorating the ballroom, and performing special numbers with his barbershop quartet. The author reflects on how these experiences – both joyful and challenging – shaped her father's life and helped him survive leprosy.
As they explored the archives and grounds of the institution, the family discovered how Carville had been a formative experience for her dad, one that continued to influence his life after he left the center. He went on to serve in AmeriCorps VISTA, became a social worker, printer, and lab technician, and remained politically active.
Their visit marked an opportunity for healing and reconciliation between past and present, highlighting how the institution had become an integral part of their family's story. For her father, it was a chance to reconnect with his roots, while for herself, it was a way to understand her own connection to this complex chapter in American history.
This poignant journey serves as a testament to the enduring impact of the Gillis W. Long Hansen’s Disease Center and its former patients on our collective understanding of leprosy, stigma, and resilience.
I'm still trying to process how emotional it must've been for this author and her family to visit their dad's old institution. Like, can you imagine coming back to a place where your body was broken and isolated, only to see how it's changed into something more... peaceful? The fact that they got to explore the archives and grounds together brought up so many memories of his past, but also showed how he's still here, living his best life. It's crazy how these places can shape us in such profound ways 
I think it's really beautiful how this author is exploring her dad's past with the Leper Home in Carville. It's like she's giving him a chance to tell his story again and process all these emotions he must have had during that time. And it's amazing how much she's learned about her family's history through this research. I mean, who knew that something so serious as Hansen's disease could be tackled with such creativity and positivity? Like, The STAR magazine is a total game-changer 
. It's so cool that her dad got to be a part of it and helped humanize the disease. And can we talk about how much joy Mardi Gras celebrations brought him? It just goes to show that even in the toughest times, there's always room for happiness and connection. 
but it sounds like visiting him there again was really cathartic for both of them... it's crazy how even 60 years later, your parents' experiences can still shape who you are today? 
anyway i wonder if they'll ever get to see the archives of that old patient-run magazine, The STAR... sounds like an amazing resource for learning more about what it was really like to live with Hansen's disease 
but what I find really interesting is how the author's visit helped her understand her own connection to this part of american history... like, she was literally writing a novel inspired by her dad's experience 
and now that she's seen the institution with her own eyes, it's like she can see why he had such a strong emotional response when he visited 
The author was trying to process her feelings while her dad was just trying to cope with being back there again 
Anyway, it's a really powerful story about how this place shaped him & now his own daughter's life 
the way he describes not smelling like a hospital anymore is just heartbreaking 
And the fact that he even got involved in setting up a patient-run magazine to raise awareness is super inspiring 
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... wait what was I saying? Oh yeah, the article about the guy who visited his dad's old leprosy treatment place. It sounds super sad but also kinda cool how they got to explore all these archives and stuff 
...
it's crazy how one place can hold so much significance for someone's life and identity, and yet still be able to evolve and become a symbol of healing and connection 
. And the way he reflects on his experiences during Mardi Gras celebrations shows how even difficult times can be a source of strength and resilience 
. But what really gets me is how this visit helped her understand her own connection to this chapter in American history - it's like she's shedding light on a painful part of the country's past, but also showing how we can learn from it and heal together 
. But at the same time, it's still a place of healing and resilience. My dad was so brave to share his story and help others understand what he went through. It's not easy being the face of something that's still stigmatized or misunderstood.
. I can only imagine how surreal it was to see the place where he spent 9 years of his life, surrounded by barbed wire fences... it's crazy how much history is hidden behind those walls 
.
especially with all the memories he made during Mardi Gras celebrations 
it's like, wow... what an incredible journey his family took together 
like how they transformed it from a hospital into a military conference center is wild