Is Building Unsafe Or Just Creepy?

Hollywood scriptwriters would go ape over this desolate three-story brick building that looms over a parcel of the Eastern State Hospital grounds in Medical Lake.

It is Stephen King creepy.

Originally a prison for the criminally insane, the structure later became a research facility where scientists injected monkeys with the AIDS virus.

Abandoned since 1996, the old University of Washington primate center is frequented by a part-time work force of guards and inmates from the Airway Heights Corrections Center.

The inmates haul used computers into the cavernous site for sorting and storage. The donated machines are tested, refurbished and given to elementary schools. Since 1998, the “Computer 4 Kids” program has placed nearly 3,000 computers in the schools.

It’s a worthwhile program, but controversy has again found a home in the former monkey house.

Louis LaChance, a corrections officer, last month filed a union grievance against Airway Heights Corrections Center over the building’s alleged lack of safety. According to a Teamsters spokeswoman, LaChance’s beef is shared by 10 others.

There are a number of concerns, ranging from asbestos exposure contamination to any viruses possibly left over from primate experiments.

Bowing to prison protocol, LaChance declined to speak publicly about his concerns. His wife, Debbie, is under no such constraint.

She has been championing her husband’s cause, in fact, writing letters to the governor and state agencies as well as talking to members of the media.

“I’m concerned for my family and I’m concerned for kids who get these computers,” she says, adding that the prison should locate a less-hazardous computer depot.

But are these fears grounded in reality?

A more likely scenario may be that LaChance’s worst trepidations are the result of a runaway imagination.

It’s easy to get spooked inside the dimly lit monkey house. Many of its unheated beige hallways are lined with hair-raising reminders of the building’s cruel beginnings.

It’s horrendous to think of humans warehoused in these 12-by-8-foot windowless cells that were later judged suitable for baboons.

Built in 1955, the maximum security prison held 270 sexual psychopaths and others deemed dangerously insane. Walking past these cells, it’s easy to conjure up a mental picture of deeply disturbed inmates peering through the patch of steel mesh centered in each door.

The prison closed not long after inmates staged a riot in 1957 and many of the institution’s defects came to light. The structure was converted for primate research in the mid-1960s.

Adding to the building’s creepiness are the scientific warning signs still stuck to the walls.

One has the words “Toxic Chemicals” printed under a grinning skull and crossbones. A red “Biohazard” warns any passers-by that AIDS-related viruses are being used nearby.

There is no basis for concern. Before the scientists left, the facility’s interior was doused with two virus-killing agents.

It would take a small fortune to bring this massive place into habitable condition. Storing computers seems as good a use as any.

As for some of the less emotional safety issues, Debbie LaChance notes with satisfaction that her husband’s grievance prompted prison officials to conduct some hurried housekeeping within the last two weeks.

A recent inspection for asbestos found the building well within acceptable limits, says Cly Evans, an administrator for the Airway Heights Corrections Center.

State safety inspectors took a recent tour. They spotted a few routine problems such as a leaky roof, computers stacked dangerously and cells that could lock if you, say, wandered in and accidentally closed the door.

Hmm. Trapped in a dungeon that once held infected monkeys and dangerous psychos?

Someone get Stephen King on the phone.