Between Darkness & Light | Millbrook Correctional Centre

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants, too
Well, uh, outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl, hey
– All Along the Watchtower

Once known as the Altraz of Ontario, Millbrook Correctional had an unsavoury reputation among prisoners, citizens, and guards. Millbrook was for the worst of the worst and for those other prisons didn’t want. Set up well outside any urban centre, this is a rare example of a mid-century jail with strange ideas on prison reform. I only made it inside once, but I revisited and never saw the interior again as the locals got wise when some local kids managed to get in and cause some damage. However, I managed to get out with an excellent set of photos for a single visit location.

In 1949, the Department of Reform & Institutions (DRI) took control of the County Jails and Asylums across the Province of Ontario, many of which had been in operation since before Confederation in 1867, the oldest dating back to 1825. The newest having opened in the early 20th Century. The new department also began constructing a series of low to medium-security work farms for low-risk inmates. But the problems facing the many jails in the ProvinceProvince required much more attention, especially after a series of disastrous riots in the early 1950s that came to a head in 1952 with a riot at the Guelph Reformatory resulted in four minor injuries and a million dollars in damages. The minister in charge of the DRI took these matters seriously and brought in several experts to complete studies to help better manage the prison populations across the Province, resulting in the Ontario Plan. Under the plan, prisoners were classified by their crimes and moved to more appropriate settings. The most violent offenders and those who posed disciplinary threats were transferred to a new prison, Millbrook Reformatory. Opened in 1957, Millbrook, located south of Peterborough, Ontario, was a small rural community far from the significant population centres in Ontario. The reformatory, situated outside the town, sat high on a hill. High walls made from Brick and a series of watch towers would house the worst-of-the-worst of Ontario’s prison population. Millbrook would also house any sex offenders who were sentenced. Millbrook also housed inmates who were members of the 2SLGBTQ+ community and, no matter their crimes were placed with the sex offenders. 2SLGBTQ+ inmates faced even worse treatment at the hands of fellow inmates and the guards. The practice of keeping the 2SLGBTQ+ inmates with the sex offenders ended in 1958, but did not end the violence and mistreatment given to them. Upon entry into Millbrook, the inmates were subjected to a sixteen-day stint in solitary confinement with only a Bible to read, limited diet and outside time with no visitors and outside communications. If the prisoners displayed suitable compliance, they would have access to full meals, a single non-fiction book to read, forty-five minutes of outdoor time, a half-hour visit each week, and an allowance for tobacco. If further compliant behaviour was demonstrated, prisoners would be granted full library privileges, a weekly movie, outside communications with inbound letters and a single outbound letter a week, and the ability to take correspondence courses. Despite housing among the worst in the Province, capital punishment was never carried out at Millbrook. Those housed in the sex offender wings were not well treated, often being subjected to electro-shock and injections of Sodium Thiopental. Millbrook quickly gained an unsavoury reputation, and in the 1960s, two prisoners would use a stash of lighter fluid to light their cells on fire. When the word got out, public outcry began to form, and new prison reforms were introduced. Millbrook ceased to use shock therapy and thiopental injections, and more training became available. Prisoners were allowed to work in a sewing shop making prison uniforms, learn automotive repair, or make license plates.

Despite these reforms, Millbrook never shook its reputation; many dangerous offenders were still shuttled out of the main prison population to serve at Millbrook. Through the 1970s and 1980s, things did not improve, and in the 1990s, when the new Progressive Conservative government under Premier Mike Harris began a series of investigations to help modernise and streamline Ontario’s correctional system. A 1996 survey targeted the oldest operating prisons in Ontario to reduce the number of smaller local prisons and move the population into a smaller number of larger super jails. These super jails were either constructed new, like the Central East Correctional Centre in Lindsay or upgraded existing jails, like Maplehurst Correctional Centre in Milton. Construction of the Central East Correctional Centre began in 1999, with the Millbrook inmates scheduled to move to the new jail when it opened. As the population began to shrink at Millbrook, the ageing prison saw a section used as an immigration detention centre for those waiting for deportation. OPSU, the union representing correctional officers, feared that the Harris government planned to privatise the new jails and launched a series of strike actions through 2000. During this time, several unsavoury events took place, including the beating death of an inmate at the hands of other prisoners and a six-day hunger strike by prisoners to protest the beating death of Nguyen Cao at the hands of the guards. The final prison riot in 2003 resulted in twenty-nine inmates breaking out, taking control of the central control room and releasing the locks on all the cells. After local police and tactical forces were called in, the prisoners returned to their cells. Millbrook closed its doors for good shortly after. From 2003 to 2014, there were various plans to reuse the old jail, including a pot-growing enterprise. Ultimately, the jail would be used for police and correctional training, and in 2015, the entire prison was knocked down. Since then, various plans have been to reuse the property, but all would involve a costly environmental clean-up. As of 2024, the property remains empty but is marked as a tobogganing hill on Google Maps.

Despite only one successful trip to Millbrook, it stands out in my mind. We set out from the GTA with a visiting explorer in tow; upon arrival, we found a safe place to park our cars in a small residential street and hiked up the hill. The joy of being in a rural setting is that there aren’t too many prying eyes nearby. The eyes that are nearby often are more likely to call the authorities. Thankfully, this was before the location saw vandalism by local teenagers, so there were not as many close watches on the old prison. The prison was like none I had seen in the past, mainly because the only other jail I had seen was the Don Jail, which dates to 1864. Millbrook was the perfect example of what a mid-century modern institution looked like. Oddly enough, the look and material reminded me of my old high school, that buff/brown brick. Tall watch towers were built into the walls, and a large administration building was at the front. We went in, having a rough idea of where to enter the property. After walking around the entire perimeter of the wall, we discovered the entry was through the front door. Probably for the best because if we had gotten into the prison yard, we may have never gotten into the main prison buildings. The place was huge; we moved through the solitary blocks and into the main prison buildings. It felt weird inside; a lot of anger and sadness filled the space, and after looking into the place’s history, I’m not surprised at all. Not to mention the sheer number of solitary cells that comprised most of the first section. The more communal cell blocks filled with peeling paint, the empty automotive shops. However, the sewing shop and license plate manufacturing section remained fully intact. We never got into the main prison yard, probably for the best because we may have been locked out and trapped inside. But we got up onto the roof, where we even ran into a separate group of explorers, giving both groups a start. We then learned of a fire at Camp 30, and, not wanting to wear out our welcome, made tracks and got out Scot-free. My second trip was en route to Ottawa, with a stop in Lindsay. I wanted to see if I could get into the prison again, but sadly, this was post-vandalism. The entire jail was sealed up, and my car was noticed. An OPP officer rolled up onto the property and warned me off of trying to get in; I took the few shots I had gotten on the Lubitel and made my way back to my car.

Being a single-visit location, I’m rather pleased with how many good photos I got from the place. I was at that in-between period with my photography; I was starting to develop my own style and working with the equipment that I had; this was near the transition from my D70s to my D300, so while I had upgraded my body, I was still working with the Sigma 18-50/2.8 lens, which gave me a constant aperture lens with decent optics. My compositions were my typical straight leading lines, something that I always looked for in abandoned buildings, usually to help show off the scale of the location. Despite working in close quarters and being limited to that 18mm (27mm equivalent), I’m rather pleased with how well the scale of the place is shown off. This is even more visible with the film shots I got, which used my trusty Nikon F80 and 24mm f/2.8D (a lens that would sadly be destroyed in an accident, but I did eventually replace it), and the use of Kodak Tmax 100. The inclusion of Tmax is fascinating because early in 2009, the Film Photography Podcast, which would start to heavily influence my photography and film choices, had yet to begin airing. Until now, I only used colour negative or chromogenic black & white films. But even still looking back, I love how the black & white worked well in this location. Another thing I notice is a heavier hand in post-processing my images. In some cases, presets are extensively used to alter the photos look. In some cases, it works well, but I want to go back and see some of the original images and what I could do with them, considering my different tastes and editing methods.

Millbrook made for an exciting place to visit; I would have never wanted to see what the place looked and sounded like when it was active and operating. The history shows a sad place with a lot of anger. Prisons made for exciting explorations, and Millbrook would not be the only Ontario prison from the mid-century that I would come to explore, including one of the work farms established in 1940 the Rideau Correctional Centre (which will get its own entry in this series), Burwash another large prison farm further north plus having checked out the old Don Jail before those tours stopped. While I am disappointed that I only saw it once, it was worth the trip. Now you’re probably wondering why I have a quote from the song “All Along the Watch Tower” and a YouTube video of a cover version of the song? Well, in 2009 the final season of the reimagined Battlestar Galactica show which used the song as a thematic part of the overall story arch. And with all the watch towers, well it resonated with me. You’ll even find sprinklings of other parts of the lyrics through the titles of the images. You can check out all my images over on Flickr.

Glossary Of Terms
Electroshock Therapy: A psychiatric treatment where a generalized seizure (without muscular convulsions) is electrically induced to manage refractory mental disorders.

Sodium Thiopental: Sodium thiopental, also known as Sodium Pentothal, thiopental, thiopentone, or Trapanal, is a rapid-onset short-acting barbiturate general anesthetic. Thiopental is still used in some places as a truth serum to weaken the resolve of a subject and make the individual more compliant to pressure. Barbiturates decrease both higher cortical brain function and inhibition.

Capital Punishment (Canada): Capital punishment in Canada dates back to Canada’s earliest history, including its period as a French colony and, after 1763, its time as a British colony. From 1867 to the elimination of the death penalty for murder on July 26, 1976, 1,481 people had been sentenced to death, and 710 had been executed. Of those executed, 697 were men and 13 women. The only method used in Canada for capital punishment of civilians after the end of the French regime was hanging. The last execution in Canada was the double hanging of Arthur Lucas and Ronald Turpin on December 11, 1962, at Toronto’s Don Jail. The National Defense Act prescribed the death penalty for certain military offences until 1999, although no military executions had been carried out since 1946.