Hidden Valley Road

Hidden Valley Road Plot Summary

Introduction

In the quiet suburb of Colorado Springs during the mid-20th century, Don and Mimi Galvin appeared to embody the quintessential American dream. A handsome Air Force officer and his refined wife raising twelve children—ten boys followed by two girls—in a spacious home at the end of Hidden Valley Road. From the outside, they represented the perfect post-war family: athletic sons who excelled in sports, a father who trained falcons for the Air Force Academy, a mother who maintained an immaculate household. Their Christmas cards showed a harmonious tableau that friends and neighbors admired and envied. Yet behind this carefully curated image lay one of the most devastating family tragedies of modern American medicine. Six of the ten Galvin boys would eventually develop schizophrenia, transforming their idyllic home into what one family member described as "a kind of horror house." Their story spans the entire trajectory of mental health treatment in America—from institutionalization and shock therapy to the emergence of antipsychotic medications and the bitter debates between biological and psychological approaches to mental illness. More significantly, the Galvin family's genetic material would eventually become the foundation for groundbreaking research that has transformed our understanding of schizophrenia, offering hope not just for treatment but potentially for prevention.

Chapter 1: The Perfect American Family: Twelve Children on Hidden Valley Road

In the quiet suburb of Colorado Springs during the 1950s and 60s, the Galvin family appeared to embody the American dream. Don Galvin, a decorated Air Force veteran and falconry enthusiast who worked at the newly established Air Force Academy, and his wife Mimi, an ambitious and cultured woman, were raising what seemed to be the perfect family. Their home on Hidden Valley Road became the backdrop for an extraordinary family story - one that would eventually contain both tremendous suffering and remarkable resilience. As their family grew to include ten boys and two girls, the Galvins projected an image of exceptional achievement and wholesome American values. The boys excelled in sports, particularly hockey, and participated in falconry with their father. The family attended Catholic mass every Sunday, and their home buzzed with activity - music lessons, team practices, and the controlled chaos of raising twelve children. Neighbors and friends saw them as special - a large, talented, beautiful family that seemed to represent everything right about post-war America. For Mimi Galvin, maintaining order in such a large household became her life's work. She insisted on formal family dinners, enforced strict discipline, and worked tirelessly to ensure her children represented the family well in public. Don, meanwhile, was often absent - building his career, pursuing his academic interests, and later working with the Federation of Rocky Mountain States, a regional development organization. The family's public image was carefully curated, with Mimi orchestrating their participation in cultural events and social gatherings that reinforced their status as an exceptional American family. As the 1960s progressed, the older Galvin boys entered adolescence and early adulthood. Donald went to college, Jim joined the military, and the younger boys continued to excel in sports and academics. But something was beginning to change. The controlled environment Mimi had worked so hard to maintain was showing signs of strain. The boys' roughhousing became increasingly violent, and tensions between them grew more pronounced. What appeared to outsiders as normal sibling rivalry was evolving into something more concerning, though few outside the family witnessed these troubling developments. By the late 1960s, as the counterculture movement swept across America, the Galvin family's perfect facade was about to crumble in ways that would reveal how fragile their carefully constructed normalcy had always been. The coming years would transform them from an exemplary American family into something entirely different - a family that would eventually provide crucial insights into one of medicine's most perplexing conditions.

Chapter 2: Darkness Descends: Six Brothers Fall to Schizophrenia

The first signs of trouble emerged in 1969 when Donald, the oldest Galvin son, began experiencing a series of troubling episodes while in college. His behavior became erratic - he spoke of hearing voices and developed an obsession with religion that bordered on the fanatical. In 1970, the unthinkable happened: Donald threatened his wife Jean with cyanide during a psychotic break. This incident led to his first commitment to the Colorado State Hospital in Pueblo, where doctors diagnosed him with schizophrenia. For Don and Mimi Galvin, this diagnosis was incomprehensible - how could their perfect son, their shining star, have developed such a devastating mental illness? Rather than acknowledge the severity of Donald's condition, the Galvins initially treated it as a temporary setback. Mimi, in particular, seemed determined to maintain the family's appearance of normalcy despite mounting evidence that something was profoundly wrong. When Donald returned home between hospital stays, his behavior became increasingly disruptive - walking hundreds of miles around the neighborhood, preaching loudly, and sometimes becoming violent. Yet the family continued to function around him, with the younger children expected to adapt to his unpredictable presence. Then, in a devastating pattern that would come to define the family's trajectory, Jim, the second son, began exhibiting similar symptoms. By the mid-1970s, six of the ten Galvin boys - Donald, Jim, Brian, Matthew, Joseph, and Peter - would be diagnosed with schizophrenia. The odds of this happening in a single family were so astronomically small that medical researchers would eventually study the Galvins as a unique case that might hold keys to understanding the genetic basis of the disease. But for the family living through this nightmare, there were no answers, only the daily struggle to survive. The impact on the household was catastrophic. The once-orderly home became a place of constant crisis. Violent outbursts, psychotic episodes, and police interventions became routine. One Thanksgiving, Donald and Jim got into a fight that ended with the dining room table overturned and the holiday meal destroyed. On another occasion, Donald removed every piece of furniture from the house and hid it in the hills. The younger children, especially the two girls, lived in constant fear, never knowing when one of their brothers might have a psychotic episode. The tragedy reached its peak in 1973 when Brian, the fourth son, shot and killed his girlfriend before turning the gun on himself. What the family didn't know until later was that Brian had been prescribed an antipsychotic medication before his death, suggesting he too had been developing schizophrenia. This devastating loss further fractured the already struggling family and confirmed their worst fears - that whatever was afflicting their sons could have deadly consequences. For Mimi and Don, the strain was immense. Don retreated into his work and eventually suffered a debilitating stroke in 1975 that left him partially paralyzed. Mimi shouldered the burden of caring for her sick sons while trying to raise her younger children. She became their fierce advocate, navigating the inadequate mental health system of the 1970s, trying experimental treatments, and refusing to institutionalize her sons permanently despite the toll their care took on the family.

Chapter 3: Margaret and Lindsay: Growing Up in the Shadow of Madness

Lindsay and Margaret Galvin, the youngest children and only daughters in the family, experienced childhood as a bewildering nightmare. Born after several of their brothers had already begun showing symptoms, they never knew a time when their family was truly "normal." Their daily reality included brothers who might suddenly turn violent, destroy furniture, or become lost in delusional religious fervor. The girls learned to navigate their home like a minefield, sensing which brothers were stable enough to approach and which needed to be avoided. The psychological impact on the sisters was profound. Margaret, the second youngest, developed a hypervigilance that never fully subsided even in adulthood. She became acutely sensitive to others' moods and emotional states – a survival mechanism developed in a household where a brother's sudden shift into psychosis could mean danger. Lindsay, the youngest, grew up feeling invisible amid the constant crises surrounding her brothers. Both girls experienced the deep confusion of loving their brothers while simultaneously fearing them, never knowing which version of their siblings they might encounter from one day to the next. Beyond the trauma of witnessing their brothers' mental illness, Lindsay and Margaret endured another devastating secret within the family: sexual abuse at the hands of their brother Jim. Already diagnosed with schizophrenia, Jim had been allowed to live semi-independently with his wife and children. Inexplicably, Mimi and Don regularly sent their young daughters to stay at Jim's home on weekends, where both girls were repeatedly molested. This abuse continued for years, with neither sister aware that the other was experiencing the same violation until they were adults. In 1976, when Margaret was thirteen and Lindsay was ten, a pivotal moment occurred that would forever alter their relationship. Nancy Gary, the wife of an oil baron who was friends with Don Galvin, offered to take Margaret into her home in Denver so she could attend a prestigious private school. For Margaret, this represented salvation - a chance to escape the increasingly dangerous environment at home. For Lindsay, however, it felt like abandonment. She was left behind with her parents and sick brothers, including Donald and Peter, who were frequently psychotic. The separation created a rift between the sisters that would take years to heal. As teenagers, both sisters found temporary escape through the kindness of family friends. The Garys provided Margaret with stability and educational opportunities she couldn't have had otherwise. Lindsay would later follow a similar path, though the separation from their parents created complex feelings of abandonment mixed with relief. These experiences gave the sisters glimpses of normal family life that made returning to Hidden Valley Road all the more difficult. By the time they reached adulthood, Margaret and Lindsay had developed remarkably different coping mechanisms. Margaret sought distance, both physical and emotional, from her family of origin. She experimented with different lifestyles before eventually finding stability in marriage and motherhood, though she continued to struggle with the emotional legacy of her childhood. Lindsay, conversely, remained deeply involved with her brothers and parents, eventually becoming their primary advocate and caretaker. Her search for answers about her family's condition would lead her to connect with researchers studying schizophrenia's genetic basis.

Chapter 4: Scientific Breakthrough: How One Family Changed Medical History

In the mid-1980s, the Galvin family came to the attention of two researchers whose work would prove groundbreaking in the field of schizophrenia research. Dr. Lynn DeLisi, a psychiatrist at the National Institute of Mental Health, was searching for families with multiple cases of schizophrenia to study potential genetic links. Dr. Robert Freedman, a researcher at the University of Colorado, was investigating how the brains of people with schizophrenia process sensory information differently. The Galvins, with six affected brothers, represented an unprecedented opportunity for both scientists. DeLisi's work with the Galvins formed part of a paradigm shift in understanding schizophrenia. For decades, the illness had been attributed primarily to environmental factors, particularly poor parenting. The concentration of cases in the Galvin family strongly suggested a genetic component that could not be explained by environment alone. DeLisi collected blood samples from all family members, creating a genetic repository that would later prove invaluable as technology advanced. Though her initial research was limited by the genetic analysis capabilities of the 1980s, these samples would eventually contribute to major discoveries. Freedman's research took a different approach, focusing on how the Galvin brothers' brains processed information. He developed a "double-click" test that measured sensory gating – the brain's ability to filter out redundant or unnecessary stimuli. The Galvin brothers consistently showed impairment in this function, suggesting a neurological basis for their symptoms. This work led Freedman to identify CHRNA7, the first gene definitively linked to schizophrenia, which plays a crucial role in how the brain processes information. The most significant breakthrough came decades later, when advances in genetic sequencing technology allowed for more sophisticated analysis of the Galvin samples. In 2016, DeLisi and her colleague Stefan McDonough identified a mutation in a gene called SHANK2 shared by all the affected Galvin brothers. This gene helps brain synapses transmit signals and neurons react quickly – precisely the kind of function that, when disrupted, could lead to the disorganized thinking characteristic of schizophrenia. The discovery provided a crucial piece in understanding the biological basis of the disorder. Perhaps most promising was Freedman's discovery that a simple nutrient – choline – could potentially prevent the onset of schizophrenia in children with genetic predisposition. His research showed that prenatal supplements of choline could improve brain development in ways that might prevent the illness from manifesting later in life. This preventative approach represented a radical shift from traditional treatments that focused only on managing symptoms after they appeared. In 2017, the American Medical Association recommended that prenatal vitamins include higher levels of choline specifically to help prevent schizophrenia and other brain developmental disorders. The scientific legacy of the Galvin family extends far beyond the specific genetic mutations identified in their DNA. Their case helped transform our fundamental understanding of schizophrenia from a psychological condition caused by bad parenting to a complex neurobiological disorder with strong genetic components. This shift not only removed the burden of blame from families but opened new avenues for treatment and prevention that had previously seemed impossible.

Chapter 5: From Blame to Biology: Redefining Mental Illness

The Galvin family's extraordinary concentration of schizophrenia occurred at a pivotal moment in psychiatric history. For decades, the prevailing theory had blamed schizophrenia on cold, domineering mothers – the "schizophrenogenic mother" hypothesis. Mimi Galvin, already struggling to manage her disintegrating family, faced the additional burden of implicit blame from medical professionals. Yet the sheer number of cases in one family pointed to something beyond parenting – something in their shared DNA that would eventually help transform our understanding of this devastating condition. The most devastating moment came during a family meeting at the hospital, when doctors directly confronted Mimi with the then-popular "schizophrenogenic mother" theory—the idea that cold, controlling mothers caused schizophrenia in their children. Stunned and defensive, Mimi resolved never to let university doctors near her sons again, preferring the state hospital in Pueblo despite its reputation for harsh treatments. This encounter exemplified how families like the Galvins were caught between competing psychiatric theories that offered blame rather than help. The Human Genome Project, launched in 1990 with $3 billion in funding, promised to revolutionize genetic research by mapping all human genes. Scientists hoped this would quickly lead to the identification of genes responsible for diseases like schizophrenia. However, the reality proved far more complex. As the project progressed through the 1990s and early 2000s, it became increasingly clear that schizophrenia was not caused by a single gene mutation but likely involved dozens or even hundreds of genes, each contributing a small effect. This realization complicated the search for effective treatments. As genetic technology advanced, researchers began conducting genome-wide association studies (GWAS) comparing the DNA of thousands of people with schizophrenia to healthy controls. These studies identified over 100 genetic locations potentially linked to schizophrenia, confirming the disease's complex genetic nature. However, each location only increased the risk of schizophrenia by a tiny percentage, making them impractical targets for drug development. DeLisi maintained that studying families like the Galvins, where the genetic signal might be stronger, remained a valuable approach despite falling out of fashion in the research community. The Galvin family's contribution to science came at an enormous personal cost. By the time major breakthroughs were published in 2016, two of the affected brothers had died from complications related to their medication, and the remaining four continued to struggle with their illness despite decades of treatment. Don Galvin had passed away in 2003, and Mimi in 2017, having spent most of their adult lives managing their sons' illnesses. For Lindsay and Margaret, watching their brothers suffer while simultaneously participating in research that might help future generations created complex emotions – hope mixed with the painful knowledge that these advances came too late for their own family. Today, the research sparked by the Galvin family continues to evolve. The identification of the SHANK2 mutation pointed researchers toward examining how schizophrenia, autism, and bipolar disorder may exist on a spectrum of related conditions rather than as distinct illnesses. This more nuanced understanding has led to more personalized approaches to treatment, moving away from the one-size-fits-all medication regimens that failed the Galvin brothers.

Chapter 6: The Burden of Care: Mimi's Lifelong Struggle

The decades-long battle with schizophrenia transformed the Galvin household into something akin to a private mental institution, with Mimi serving as the primary caregiver for her affected sons. By the 1990s, with Don partially paralyzed from his stroke and in declining health, the burden fell almost entirely on her shoulders. Donald, now in his forties, lived at home permanently, largely confined to his room except for meals. Peter cycled between home, the streets, and the state hospital in Pueblo. Joe, Matt, and Jim lived independently but required constant supervision and intervention during their frequent crises. Mimi's daily routine revolved around managing medications, driving to appointments, handling emergencies, and trying to maintain some semblance of normal life. She dispensed pills from ceramic mugs she had made herself, monitored her sons for signs of decompensation, and served as the family's institutional memory, recounting medical histories to an endless parade of doctors and social workers. When her sons refused medication or became violent, she was the one who called the police or petitioned the courts for involuntary commitment. This relentless caregiving took an enormous physical and emotional toll, yet Mimi rarely complained, telling doctors, "You can't be heartbroken every day." Don Galvin, once a commanding military officer and respected academic, became increasingly withdrawn as his health deteriorated. Cancer followed his stroke, requiring multiple surgeries and treatments over fifteen years. He spent his days collecting maps of Alaska and planning falconry expeditions he would never take, clinging to memories of his former life. The contrast between the ambitious young officer who had once envisioned leading a dynasty of exceptional sons and the frail old man watching those same sons struggle with mental illness was stark and poignant. The financial strain on the family was immense. Don's military pension provided some support, but the cost of caring for multiple chronically ill adult children far exceeded their resources. The brothers received disability benefits, but these barely covered their basic needs. The American mental health care system, with its fragmented services and inadequate support for families, left the Galvins largely on their own. Mimi became an expert at navigating this system, advocating fiercely for her sons to receive the best possible care within its limitations. As the years passed, the toll of caring for her sons changed Mimi. The perfectionism that had once driven her to create an ideal family gave way to a grim pragmatism. She developed a certain hardness, necessary perhaps for survival, but difficult for her daughters to witness. In conversations with Margaret and Lindsay, she began to reveal long-held secrets - about Don's affairs during their marriage, about his episodes of depression that predated their children's illness, about her own childhood trauma. These revelations suggested that Mimi herself had been carrying burdens far heavier than anyone had realized. The brothers' physical health also suffered from years of taking powerful antipsychotic medications. Jim died in 2001 at age 53 from heart failure related to his use of neuroleptic drugs. Joe died similarly in 2009, also at 53. These deaths highlighted the cruel reality that even the treatments meant to help often came with devastating side effects. For the surviving brothers, the medications that kept their psychosis at bay also caused obesity, diabetes, tremors, and cardiovascular problems. Peter, in particular, suffered from the side effects of dozens of different medications tried over the years, eventually requiring electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) when drugs failed to control his symptoms.

Chapter 7: Finding Meaning: Transforming Tragedy into Scientific Progress

By the early 2000s, Margaret and Lindsay Galvin had begun the difficult journey toward healing from their traumatic childhood. Both sisters sought therapy, though they approached it differently. Lindsay committed to intensive, long-term work with a therapist named Louise Silvern, sometimes attending sessions three times a week. Through this process, she gradually learned to integrate the painful parts of her past rather than compartmentalizing them. Margaret explored various therapeutic approaches, from traditional talk therapy to more experimental modalities like Brainspotting and the Hoffman Process, searching for ways to process her trauma without being overwhelmed by it. A crucial breakthrough came when the sisters finally discussed their shared experience of sexual abuse by their brother Jim. After years of silence, they discovered they had both suffered similarly, each believing she was protecting the other by keeping quiet. This revelation strengthened their bond and validated their individual experiences. Together, they confronted Jim, who denied everything, and then their parents. While Don seemed genuinely devastated by what his daughters had endured, Mimi's response was more complex - she shared that she too had been sexually abused as a child by her stepfather, but also seemed to make excuses for Jim because of his mental illness. Lindsay took a bold step in the early 1990s when she became Peter's legal guardian and brought him to live with her in Boulder. She believed that with proper therapy and support - the kind she was receiving - her brother might recover more fully than he had under the medication-focused approach of the state hospital system. For several years, she managed his care, took him to appointments, and advocated for him with the mental health system. Though ultimately unsuccessful - Peter's illness proved too severe for her to manage - this experience helped Lindsay reclaim some agency in relation to her family's illness and deepened her understanding of what her parents had faced for decades. Both sisters built successful professional lives despite their challenging backgrounds. Margaret became a mother and found purpose in raising her children with the stability and safety she had lacked. Lindsay founded a successful corporate event planning business and later married. They maintained relationships with their well brothers - John, Michael, Richard, and Mark - though these connections were often complicated by different experiences and perspectives on their shared family history. The sisters also stayed in touch with their mother, developing a more nuanced understanding of her as they matured, recognizing both her failures and her remarkable resilience. Perhaps most poignantly, Lindsay's daughter Kate chose to study neuroscience in college, eventually interning in Freedman's laboratory – the same place where her uncles' DNA had been analyzed decades earlier. This next generation represents the possibility that the Galvin family's suffering might ultimately lead to prevention and even cures for others. As Kate walked through the laboratory where her family's genetic material had helped unlock some of schizophrenia's secrets, she embodied the hope that emerges from even the darkest human experiences. For the surviving Galvin siblings, their family's legacy is deeply personal yet universally significant. Through their willingness to share their genetic material and their painful stories, they helped transform our understanding of one of humanity's most devastating mental illnesses. Their contribution reminds us that scientific progress often depends on the courage of ordinary families facing extraordinary circumstances – and that hope can emerge from even the most profound suffering.

Summary

The story of the Galvin family reveals how extraordinary scientific breakthroughs often emerge from profound human tragedy. What began as a statistical anomaly – six brothers with schizophrenia in a single family – ultimately provided researchers with unprecedented insights into the genetic foundations of mental illness. Through decades of study, their family's DNA helped identify specific genetic mutations that contribute to schizophrenia, shifting our understanding away from psychological explanations toward biological ones. This paradigm shift not only removed the burden of blame from families but opened new avenues for prevention and treatment that continue to evolve today. The Galvin family's legacy teaches us that scientific progress rarely follows a straight line. It took decades of research, technological advancement, and paradigm shifts before their genetic samples yielded their most important secrets. Yet their contribution reminds us that even our most painful experiences can ultimately serve a greater purpose. For families currently struggling with mental illness, the Galvins' story offers both caution about the limitations of current treatments and hope that future generations may benefit from the knowledge their suffering helped create. Their journey from being viewed as a family with "bad parenting" to becoming ground zero for genetic research on schizophrenia exemplifies how scientific understanding can transform not just treatment approaches but the very way we conceptualize human suffering.

About Author

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Robert Kolker

I'm the author of Hidden Valley Road: Inside the Mind of an American Family (Doubleday, 2020) and Lost Girls: An Unsolved American Mystery (Harper, 2013).

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