All Souls, All Heart: Nurses reunite to honor Morristown’s first hospital

By Ellen S. Wilkowe

It had all the trappings of a reunion: Color-themed balloons, photo albums, newspaper clippings—and a navy blue nurse’s uniform on display at an IHOP in Cedar Knolls.

Retired nurses, some proudly wearing that navy uniform, swapped memories with classmates and colleagues from All Souls Hospital over the weekend.

The first Catholic hospital in Morristown, long since closed, is drawing renewed interest from alumni, especially with its former site on Mount Kemble Avenue slated for demolition.

Originally run by the Grey Nuns of Montreal and later by the Sisters of Charity of Saint Elizabeth, All Souls Hospital opened in 1891, providing not just health care but a sense of community and education.

The hospital began in Arnold’s Tavern, near the Morristown Green. In 1777, the building served as George Washington’s winter headquarters and hosted Benedict Arnold’s first trial three years later

Designated as a hospital in 1891, the tavern narrowly escaped demolition and was moved to Mount Kemble Avenue, where it served until a fire in 1918. Among its early leaders was Paul Revere, great-grandson of the Revolutionary War hero.

Rebuilt after the fire, All Souls continued to shape medical careers. Its nursing school opened in 1908 and graduated its final class in 1970. In the 1970s, the hospital changed hands and became Community Medical Center.

Saturday’s reunion was organized by Robert Havas, a self-described “All Souls baby,” who also was a childhood patient and volunteer.

“My mother and grandmother were Pink Ladies,” he said, recalling the volunteer corps. He also remembered the care his mother received at All Souls before her death, when he was just 5 years old.

“I have a connection with the facility,” he said. “It gave me a strong sense of safety and security, especially coming from a broken home.”

The idea for the reunion grew out of a birthday lunch with three other alumni. Facebook groups like Morristown 07960 Its History, Its People helped the effort snowball. “The spore just mushroomed,” said Havas, 63.

A lifelong Morristown resident still living in his childhood home, Havas described a town that once felt like one big family. “Everyone knew everybody,” he said. “It was a true six degrees of separation.”

Volunteering at Community Medical Center during high school inspired his first career as a licensed practical nurse. He later worked at the Mount Kemble Division of Morristown Memorial Hospital, the Rehabilitation Institute of Morristown Memorial, and Morristown Memorial Hospital itself.

Havas can rattle off the hospital’s many names over the years—from All Souls to the Atlantic Rehabilitation Institute (ARI). The site closed in 2019 but briefly reopened as a COVID-19 hospice.

Organizers went all out for the reunion, with gold-starred name tags for nursing school grads, medically themed napkins, and balloon colors representing each era—white, blue, and gold for All Souls; brown and orange for Community Medical Center; and orange and blue for today’s Morristown Medical Center under Atlantic Health.

Alumni from every era came to reconnect and reminisce.

Nancy Decker Hirschberg of Whippany, a 1961 nursing school grad who worked in the emergency room, displayed her All Souls pin—once as mandatory as the navy uniform. She recalled learning by doing, without modern technology.

“We had to start an IV without any machines,” she said. “We had to use math.”

She was joined by Arlene Yuliano of Denville, whom she called her “big sister.” The two graduated a year apart and recalled tunnels connecting departments beneath the hospital. “It was spooky,” Yuliano said.

Diane Taylor, 72, of Long Valley, praised her mother’s 50-year career at All Souls and recalled her own time in the ER. “There was no triage,” she said. “We all just went with it. Then the paramedics came.”

Lois Carpenter, 67, of Bayonne, who started in physical therapy at All Souls, said, “It was the best first job and best staff I could’ve asked for.” She was joined by her former boss, Lee Connor, 74, a retired outpatient therapy supervisor from Parsippany.

Much of the work was more manual and hands-on than today, and many focused on the sense of connection.

“Everybody in all departments knew each other,” said Arlene Graves, 72, of Succasunna. “It was like family.”

Havas agreed. He hopes future reunions will preserve that spirit, especially as the Mount Kemble building faces demolition.

“Yes, we’re mourning the loss of the brick and mortar and the energy it held,” he said. “Those who stayed in health care carry special helping characteristics. At the end of the day, the patient—and patient care—was always the priority.”