Inside the Abandoned Buffalo State Asylum | Disturbing History of a Forgotten Mental Hospital

In the early to mid-1900s, America's asylums were overflowing. Thousands locked away, hidden from society, misdiagnosed, mistreated, and often forgotten. Electroshock therapy, straitjackets, and crude lobotomies were called treatment. These halls echoed with screams, not healing. Today, I've returned to one of those places, the long-abandoned and decaying Buffalo State Hospital. Once a monument to progress, now a decaying reminder of the horrors we tried to bury. Okay guys, we're in. So let's uh, let's see what's going on here. See what this is all about. Okay guys, I found a staircase here. This is the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane, opened in 1880, designed by famed architect Henry Hobson Richardson. It was meant to be a place of hope, part of a new movement in mental health care called the Kirkbride Plan, which believed beauty and structure could heal the mind. But over time, hope gave way to overcrowding, underfunding, and outdated treatments. Lobotomies, restraints, and isolation became the norm. What was once a symbol of progress, slowly turned into a place of silence, suffering, and stigma. And now, only the ruins remain. Cleaned in here. That's where it lost its floor. The Buffalo State Asylum was built following the Kirkbride Plan, an architectural philosophy from the 1800s that believed the structure of a building could help heal the mind. Long staggered wings brought in sunlight and fresh air. High ceilings, open spaces, and serene surroundings were all part of the treatment. It was a radical idea for its time, that mental illness could be treated with dignity, through design. Very rotten on this floor. What a difference. and we'll continue the tour in a minute. There are several harrowing accounts and horror stories, some firsthand, some fictionalized, written by former patients of mental institutions, particularly from the early to mid-20th century. Many detail abuse, neglect, forced treatments, and the haunting experience of being institutionalized. At just 12 years old, former patient Howard Dully was given a transorbital lobotomy at the request of his stepmother. Dully wasn't mentally ill. He was simply considered difficult. His memoir details the betrayal, confusion, and lasting trauma of receiving one of the most brutal procedures in psychiatric history. Dully is quoted as saying, if I'd known what they were going to do to me, I would have run away and never come back. Guys, it's so windy outside. Every possible noise that this building can make, it's me. There's so much rattling and noises going on in here. That's pretty nice, eh guys? commitment and the terror of being medicated against her will. She describes the feeling of being erased, stripped of identity, freedom, and power within the walls of psychiatric wards. She is quoted as saying, once you're labeled mentally ill, anything you do is called part of that illness. Oh, this is different. This whole wing is different. Okay, the layout here is totally different. Look at this thing, eh? Wow. A big safe right there. It's got so many different lids. Okay, look at that. Huh, this is different, guys. Totally different layout here. Look at this door. Just this little screen to see through. Okay, I gotta go back and get my camera and take some more pictures. What happens here? Oh, this is it. It just ends right here. Okay. I see. Okay, you guys can't see anything in here. It's too dark. Okay, I see. Cool wing. I don't think I've ever been in this wing before. This is so awesome with these doors. That's where I came from, and then there's more down here. Guys, this is crazy. Okay, all right. Another staircase right here. Okay, guys, so this place is a bit of a maze, depending on where you are. So I finally made my way to, I think, the main hallway where they do the tours, I think. So get this contraption in here, and I think this floor will be pretty clean. We have some pretty cool stuff to see on this floor. Yeah, it's pretty hard to get around if you're not really familiar with things in this building. So let's see where we're at here, if we are where I think we are. So I think I probably want to go down, and then work our way around and up. What's this? Oh, I know where we are here. Okay. It's amazing here, guys. There's so many different ways you can go. Holy crap. Yeah, now I'm just totally like, holy crap. Okay, I might as well take some pictures while I'm here. By the 1970s, the Buffalo State Asylum had already begun to fall silent. Decades of overcrowding, underfunding, and outdated treatments had taken their toll. What was once hailed as a sanctuary for healing became a symbol of neglect. The rise of psychiatric medications and community-based care led to a shift in how mental illness was treated, and massive institutions like this were no longer part of the plan. By the mid-1990s, the last patients were moved out, and these halls were left to rot. Empty, abandoned, but never truly at peace. Okay, we haven't been here yet. Okay. It's pretty repetitive in here, fresh boards. All right. I hope you guys don't mind these videos where I just sort of walk around and don't say much because I don't have a whole lot to say while I'm going through here, you know? Okay, so this, I think this is just a dead end. Yeah, that right there probably goes into the hotel. That's my guess. I thought this was the top floor. It probably is. I think maybe the attic is above us. Okay, guys, we're still... I kind of know where I am, and what I'm doing is I'm checking out each floor, and then I'm trying to use the same staircase to get up and down, which is this one. So yeah, that's what I'm doing. This will take us to a big square room. Yeah, this is the room with all the desks. Pretty cool, eh? All right, so there should be one more floor underneath us, so we're going to go do one more. I think we have one floor on this level, and then one more underneath us, and then I think I've done everything that I can do on this side of the asylum. So let's go see what's going on over here. So I will just show you real quick that this here, this is where... I can't get in here because they have it blocked on the inside. You can't open it. Blocks of wood there. So that's just basically a whole other hallway with rooms, but there was a fire, so everything's black. Actually might be the last hallway, because I think underneath us is just the basement, and this is just a lot of the same as the other floors. Yeah, I have already been here. Yeah, we already did this floor. Today, parts of the Buffalo State Asylum have been restored, repurposed into a hotel, an architecture center, and public space, but much of the complex still sits in silence, untouched and decaying. As the city looks ahead, these halls stand at a crossroads, caught between preservation and oblivion. The question remains, how do we honor the past without repeating it?