I first visited my oldest sister at Kings Park in 1953. I was shocked at the overwhelming people put there, all the families suffering. I knew what her losses were: freedom, a husband, a brand new infant son, a son aged two, a comfortable home- she had made comfortable, her piano playing and singing and amazing sense of humor, her friendships, her athletisism, her way of having fun, her ability to do a good job. I thought that the sum total of all the losses represented there would fill the whole of Long Island. I was 12 years old. My sister was 26 i'll never forget her screams from the bars of a third floor barred window, her two year old crying back. She was a very mentally ill person before she got her medications and was at Kings Park for 32 years. She would go out and work for a while. Stop taking her meds and end up back at Kings Park. There were good times there and friends over the years. There were hard hurtful times there that she had to endure. In 1985 I had her transferred to a hospital near me and she lived seven happy years ending up with her own apartment job and a sister for a neighbor. I am very grateful for the many staff people and workers at Kings Park who did make my sister's life and losses easier. I hope the people viewing the abandoned hospital understand it is a precious, spiritual place. because no one