Nowhere to go: Many awaiting state aid for years

AMERICAN FORK — Toni Sly has to choke out the words.

"Is this the Deseret News?" she asks, with a squeak. The phone connection crackles, but her tears translate clearly over the line. "I don't know what to do."

Sly's son is 18 years old, intellectually disabled and can't be left alone because of his violent temper tantrums. A single mom of five, Sly admits, sobbing, she can't care for him. She went to the state for help, but, instead, got bounced back and forth between agencies — none of which wanted to shoulder the cost. Without the proper treatment, Sly's son got out of control.

"They put him in jail," she says. "He's got the intellect of a 12-year-old and he's facing four felonies."

Support services for the disabled run in the tens of thousands of dollars, and the waiting list to secure them in Utah is nearly 2,000 people long. The Division of Services for People with Disabilities is so savaged by budget cuts that it's become more mean than lean in determining who gets help.

The lengthy line has attracted the attention of the U.S. Department of Justice, which opened an investigation in January. The federal Americans with Disabilities Act requires state to provide care or rehabilitative services outside of institutional settings. Last year, Utah only accepted 42 people into DSPD programs — some of whom had been waiting as long as 10 years. The lack of alternatives has forced many to enroll in nursing homes.

The social services appropriations subcommittee tentatively decided to recommend the state give $1.1 million to the DSPD to get people off the waiting list Thursday. But even if the money is approved, disability advocates say it won't be enough.

"The state is telling us, 'If you have a disability and you need assistance, the only way you are going to get it is in a nursing home,'" said Jerry Costley, executive director of the Disabled Rights Action Committee. "That's a violation of civil rights."

The fight to get her son assistance has consumed Sly's life for more than four years.

Just before his 14th birthday, Jacob Smith, who has a boyish obsession with cars, swiped Sly's keys and took her car for a joy ride from Orem to West Valley City. After gleefully announcing he'd driven 100 mph, Smith told his mother, "If anyone had tried to stop me, I would have rammed into as many cars as I could."

Sly had a breakdown. Smith had made the 40-mile trip in less than 15 minutes.