A long, and complexly timely thread: On April 2nd, three days after Virginia’s governor issued a stay at home order, the last remaining resident at The Central Virginia Training Center— what was once The Virginia State Colony for Epileptic and Feebleminded— was transferred (1/9)

and the facility officially ceased operations 109 years after opening. Because of the virus, her parents watched from their car outside the gate; she’d lived there most of her life. The transfer wasn’t exactly a secret, but it happened earlier than planned (2/9)

and, like so much of the Colony’s history, under a weird kind of hush as the rest of the world attended to other things. Today, my father and I drove the Colony grounds. It was the first time I’d left the house at all in six and a half weeks (3/9) – at Central Virginia Training Center

and I was prepared to find the whole facility barricaded and padlocked, but I wanted to go when there was still a chance I could see it, before it was boarded up, bought, bulldozed and gone. We didn’t see anyone; I never see anyone when I’m there. (4/9) – at Central Virginia Training Center

I only got out of the car to peer in at the old chapel, say some small, weird, useless kind of prayer. They’ve padlocked the gates to the cemetery, which seems especially awful somehow: you can get to the admin building, but not to your dead. (5/9)

They’ve also closed the road to the oldest part of the facility, but luckily, my father is willing to trespass, and we drove down a coned-off walkway to get to the original buildings, where the numbers change color. There’s something more to say here (6/9)

about the people the world harms or forgets, even and especially in a time of emergency; about the resonance of this place’s final chapter happening now, when we’re all feeling acutely the weight and fragility of our bodies and brains; about privilege and systemic violence (7/9)

and luck and the way history might not repeat itself, but always rhymes; about how my tie to this place is the weirdest combination of accident and lineage; and, selfishly, maybe about the way, however much running I do, this is always the place I find myself (8/9)

when the ground is shifting. But for now there’s just this, some small offering: a single witnessing, for whatever it's worth. (9/9) – at Central Virginia Training Center