A little over a year ago, when they were on their way to the Veterans Affairs care center to check their Alzheimer's-afflicted father into the secured lockdown unit, the mood of the family of Jay Steadman teetered between despondency and despair.

The thoughts of leaving their dad in a government-funded facility run by strangers left them expecting the least and fearing the worst.

Little did they realize they were escorting him into another family that would love him like they did.

"We were thinking 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,' " recalls Jana Sybrowski, Jay's oldest of two daughters. "What we got was just the opposite."

"For all of us," adds Jim Steadman, one of Jay's four sons, "the experience was incredible."

Jana and Jim are using the past tense because three weeks ago, at 6:25 on the morning of May 18, Jay Steadman passed away, vacating the room at the VA where he'd spent the last year of his life.

Ever since, the entire family has been missing the old man greatly, but in their mourning they can't help marveling at the extraordinary care and love he was shown during that last year.

"Every man in that care center has some kind of mental disease, and they're all treated with this amazing respect, consideration and honor for who they are and for who they were," says Jason Steadman, another of Jay's sons.

Jay Steadman qualified for VA care by joining the United States Army and serving two years in Korea during the Korean War in the early 1950s.

He came home from the war, married Florence, they had their six kids, and he kept them all clothed and fed by spending 32 years working as an electrician at the Kennecott copper mine. After that he "retired" into his own maintenance business.

There wasn't anything Jay Steadman couldn't fix — until the Alzheimer's.

The disease hit him at a youthful 70. By 74, Florence was worn out, and Jay, his mind and memory deteriorating rapidly, needed around-the-clock monitoring. There was no telling where he might wander or what mischief he might be up to.

A secured care facility became a dreaded necessity.

After a six-month waiting period, the VA called and said they had a room. On the way to deliver their dad, Jana remembers worrying as much about the people who had to care for him as she did about him.

"They just very calmly assured us that this is what we do, this is our job, he's not bothering us," she remembers.

Only later would they learn they hadn't been told the whole truth.

For the caregivers at the VA — for Sadie, Kayla, Rachel, George, Mary, Reggie, Omar and others too numerous to mention — it is way more than a job.