Tender love and care

AMERICAN FORK — A large black-and-white photograph of 11 boys hangs on the wall in a Utah State Developmental Center residential building.

Some are smiling, while others are staring blankly. A couple have their eyes closed.

Workers at the center dressed the boys in the portrait, which longtime staffer Gary Keller guesses was taken about 23 years ago. They pulled pants over shriveled legs and pushed flailing arms through sleeves. They put shoes on twisted feet and tied the laces. They combed their hair. Keller recalls placing them in their wheelchairs. Perhaps they urged the boys to smile.

Keller has watched some of them grow up in his nearly 30 years at the center while tending to some of the state's most severely mentally retarded and physically disabled residents.

A quiet, unassuming man, Keller, 53, has little to say about his longevity in a low-paying job that requires him to daily bathe, clothe and feed people who can't care for themselves.

"I just like doing it. You either like it or you don't," he said. "People work here not just for the money. It's a little deeper than that. You usually go home feeling good about what you've done all day."

Those in the photo were boys back then. They are men now. Two have moved on. Five have passed on.

And three are waking up on a recent morning as light from the rising sun peeks through blinds on a panel of upper windows in the hexagonal-shaped building called Pleasant View. A fourth lives in another building on campus.

Several casually dressed workers walk quickly across the tile floor pulling back curtains covering the wide doorways to their rooms. A couple carry adult-size diapers.

A cheerful voice behind one curtain says, "I'll get you up."

One by one, workers at the developmental center — otherwise known as "the Hill" — wheel residents into the common area. The residents' hair is mussed, but most are dressed and waiting for breakfast. One or two clad in sheets are rolled to the bathing area in a mobile sling.

Arlene Judson is among those scurrying around. She stops for a moment to talk until a co-worker beckons her to a room.

"I love the boys," says 30-year-old Judson, who helps care for a "family" of five — Roger, Dean, Bobby, Scott and Eric, all of whom are older than she. "They just shine. You come in and they're happy to see you. . . . They're so energetic and so ready for the day. You just catch right on to it."

"Love for the folks"