My latest statewide history project has been tracking down Indiana’s surviving county homes. By my count, thirty-eight of the state’s ninety-two are still standing, and I’ve visited twenty-seven of them so far. Today, though, I’m taking a different approach: instead of highlighting one that survived, I want to tell the story of one that didn’t: Huntington County’s Evergreen Manor.
I wouldn’t have given two thoughts towards the Huntington County Home if it hadn’t been for my parents. I was the second child brought home from the hospital to a tiny American Foresquare home on Dodge Avenue, and my mom and dad were always on the lookout for larger, historic quarters. One day, they saw an ad for the old infirmary! At five or six months old, I’m told I accompanied them there on a visit.
The story of the Huntington County Infirmary began in 1853, when county commissioners purchased 160 acres in the northeastern part of Huntington Township1. They quickly erected an asylum on the property, but almost immediately changed course by selling the site in favor of a new location on the north bank of the Wabash River2. Unfortunately, misfortune followed.
The first infirmary at the riverside site burned to the ground in 1864, prompting the construction of a modest 18-by-40-foot replacement. It, too, proved to be only a temporary solution: a larger, $8,000 building eventually replaced it, but officials soon decided to start over once again. In 1876, they invested $17,000 in a substantial new infirmary that would serve Huntington County for well over a century3.
Huntington County’s 1876 poor house was a Victorian structure that featured a steepled tower above an arched entryway. By 1905, however, the building -dilapidated and without bathrooms and other sanitary necessities- was condemned in 19054. A $24,000 remodeling project seven years later appears to have corrected the issues5.
In 1941, the campus received $4,342 from the WPA to demolish the old 1866 infirmary, which had long since been converted into a hog house standing disgustingly close to the newer building6. The project also removed a brick jail known as the “insane ward7,” and salvaged its timbers to build a new garage8. Those improvements modernized the place, but they did little to change what the institution represented. That transformation would take another four decades.
The Huntington County Infirmary was situated well outside of Huntington’s limits, probably intentionally isolated from both the city and most of its residents. By 1981, though, the infirmary’s mission had evolved: no longer viewed as a poorhouse or asylum, county commissioners sought to reinvent it as a long-term care facility with a more welcoming image. They renamed the facility Evergreen Manor, hoping to leave the old stigma behind9. At the time, forty-two residents called the complex home.
The property’s role had changed in other ways as well. County homes were originally intended to be largely self-sufficient farms, but only sixty-five of Evergreen Manor’s 208 acres were able to be cultivated. Farming gradually faded away, and the county ended its cattle operation in 197510.
I’m sorry to say that the changes weren’t long-lasting. In 1990, the county home’s ten residents were moved to a facility in Columbia City and the Irene Byron Center in Fort Wayne11. The facility was recommended to stay open for another six months as county commissioners hemmed and hawed about its future, but the fact was that the elderly structure hadn’t been brought up to modern codes12. With all of its residents sent away, the Huntington County Home went up for auction in 199113. That’s about when my parents visited the place, but the abandoned building remained standing and open to vandalism until 199614.
I don’t think anything remains of Evergreen Manor today. A path through the wood cuts towards the site of an old barn, while a modern structure sits just south of its footprint. The eastern half of the old County Home property sits along Evergreen Road, while a series of baseball fields -Homier Park- stands just west. Mom and I took a break there but were soon escorted out as unwelcome visitors just as I pulled up my map.
Fortunately, the west side of the old Evergreen Manor property is wide open as a public park. Transferred from the county to the city of Huntington in 200315, Evergreen Park features eighty-five acres of trees, a trail, a pavilion, an arboretum, and overlooks above the Wabash River. It seemed like a great place to spend some time.
Today, visitors strolling through Evergreen Park -or accidentally venturing into the less inviting Homier Park next door- would probably have no idea they’re standing on the grounds of the old Huntington County Infirmary. Unfortunately, there’s little to hint that generations of the county’s poorest, oldest, and most vulnerable residents once lived, worked, and died there. The buildings are gone, the farm has disappeared, and even the name Evergreen Manor has largely faded from local memory.
Still, places like the site of the old county home deserve to be remembered- not because every chapter of their history is pleasant, but because they tell us how communities once cared for those with nowhere else to turn. The Huntington County Infirmary evolved from a poorhouse to a home, a farm, an asylum, a nursing facility, and, for more than a century, an institution that reflected changing attitudes toward poverty, mental illness, and public welfare. That’s why I’m writing this post: even though the buildings are gone, the infirmary’s stories don’t have to be.
Sources Cited
1 Bash, F.S. (1914). History of Huntington County Indiana. The Lewis Publishing Company [Chicago, New York]. Book.
2 (See footnote 1).
3 (See footnote 1).
4 Grand Jury Condems Huntington Infirmary (1905, November 21). The Fort Wayne Journal-Gazette. p. 1. \
5 Industry In Indiana (1912, January 24). The Hammond Times. p. 6.
6 Huntington Infirmary To Get $4,342 From WPA (1941, April 12). The Indianapolis Star. p. 18.
7 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Huntington, Huntington County, Indiana (1904). Sanborn Map Company, 1904. Web. Retrieved from the Library of Congress.
8 (See footnote 6).
9 Jackson, L. (1981, December 8). ‘Poor farm’ changing its image. The Marion Chronicle-Tribune. p. 61.
10 (See footnote 9).
11 Cozad, D. (1990, December 18). Huntington County home gets reprieve. The Marion Chronicle Tribune. p. 8.
12 (See footnote 11).
13 Public Auction (1991, May 16). The Marion Chronicle-Tribune. p. 19.
14 Public Auction (1991, May 16). The Marion Chronicle-Tribune. p. 19.
15 Parcel 35-05-26-300-194.400-004 (2026). Office of the Assessor. Huntington County [Huntington]. Web. Retrieved June 20, 2026.
And to think, if things had gone differently you could have told strangers “I grew up in the poorhouse” or “I was raised in an asylum”. OK, maybe not the best icebreaker. 😛