The

Bees I'm Yeah Waterville and Main is the kind of town that looks like it was pulled from a faded

postcard. Situated along the banks of the town that looks like it was pulled from a faded poster card.

Situated along the banks of the Kennebec River, it grew from a 19th century mill town into a place shaped by quiet industry and small town rhythm.

For generations, families built their lives around the paper mills, the college on the hill and the rituals of everyday life.

Waterville has always prided itself on being a

community where people know one another and where the troubles of the outside world feel just a little

farther away. But like so many towns across New England, its charm is layered over something older

and something darker. Just a short drive south in the state capital of Augusta stands the looming silhouette of the

Augusta State Hospital.

Opened in 1840, it was once one of the largest psychiatric institutions in the country,

a sprawling complex meant to offer care and sanctuary of those deemed mentally ill.

But behind its brick walls and tall windows,

the line between treatment and containment often blurred. In the spring of 1954, a woman from

Waterville was committed to the hospital. Neighbors said that she adored her family. Doctors said

that she was insane. Back then, terms like postpartum psychosis were barely understood.

Mothers were expected to cope, to pray, to carry on.

But nobody could have predicted what would happen next.

Music Constance Fisher was born on the 26th of March, 1929. Her entry into the world wasn't easy.

She had been abandoned by her birth parents and spent her earliest days in uncertainty.

But she was eventually adopted by the serious family,

a loving home where she was treated as one of their own.

...