Allegheny County spends nearly $200 million a year on services for mentally retarded adults. As high as that seems, it's not nearly enough -- more than 3,000 people are waiting for services.

	Pam Panchak, Post-Gazette Carrie Emerson's son, James Patrick, is one of the more than 3,000 mentally retarded adults in Pennsylvania not receiving any state services. Click photo for larger image.

Statewide, the numbers are staggering. The waiting list for services in all of Pennsylvania has 22,759 names on it, despite a statewide budget of $1.5 billion.

Those on the waiting list include 3,800 people who need services urgently enough that they have been given emergency status. In Allegheny County alone, as of Jan. 1, there were 378 people on the emergency waiting list.

"Every time you have a vacancy due to the death of an individual, you have 20 to 30 people fighting to get into that vacancy," said Marsha Blanco, the executive director of South Side-based Achieva, which provides services to people with developmental disabilities.

Ms. Blanco said state funding for the mentally retarded has been growing, but not fast enough to keep up with the need as people live longer and young people, who in the past might not have made it out of infancy, grow to adulthood and need services.

When housing or services become available, more often than not it is because the previous client has died, said Donald J. Clark, the deputy director for Allegheny County's Office of Mental Retardation/Developmental Disabilities,

That's how Barbara Ryan found her new home in Carnegie.

In December, she moved into a group home after being left with her sister in Brookline when her mother died.

For nine months, her sister had to cobble together care for the 47-year-old, who needs a walker to get around and an aide for the most routine personal care.

Miss Ryan will have what amounts to the faculties of a 5-year-old for the rest of her life. She likes stickers; she goes to a day program; she needs help writing her name; she's excited every year that Santa Claus will leave her toys.

Her mother, who had cared for Miss Ryan for her entire life, died in March. That left her sister, Deb Vogel, scrambling for help. Two afternoons a week, an elderly neighbor came over to get Miss Ryan off the Access van from her day program. Two other afternoons a week, it was a friend of Ms. Vogel who watched her.

Ms. Vogel covered the last afternoon herself, getting off early from work to make sure care was available for her sister.

Now, Miss Ryan lives with two other women in a modest three-bedroom house owned by Southwinds Inc. in Carnegie. When asked what she likes about the home, she said she likes the van. For the first time in years, she can travel straight to and from her day program, with her housemate, in the house van, driven by an aide.

When she lived with her sister, she took an Access van, which sometimes rode around for an hour while it made other stops before taking her home.

Stacy Kubala, the executive director of Southwinds Inc., said it costs about $65,000 a year to house an individual in a fully supported group home and another $35,000 for a day program.

Miss Ryan has found a place to live, but other families are still waiting.

The shortage of money is leaving people, who need housing, home care and day services sitting in front of televisions or wandering the streets with nowhere to be during the days.

This was not supposed to happen.

Ms. Blanco of Achieva said that in 2001, then-Gov. Tom Ridge submitted a budget with a plan to increase spending for services for the mentally retarded and developmentally disabled by $859 million over the next five years. That plan was designed to eliminate the waiting lists for services in the state. But it never went into effect.

In 2003, there were 12,603 people statewide waiting for services with 1,537 people given emergency priority. Now, twice as many people are on the emergency list and there are 10,000 more waiting overall.

Gov. Ed Rendell is aware of the shortages, said his spokeswoman Kate Philips.

"It's a sad reality but in the times we're living in, we have a federal budget that slashes budgets to the states," she said.

The state provides more than half of the $1.5 billion budget for community-based services for the mentally retarded, with $789 million.

Locally, advocates for the mentally retarded hope to see more money to address the growing need for services.

"I think there's going to be a substantial waiting list initiative in the governor's budget proposal," Ms. Blanco said. That proposal is due to be released Feb. 6.

Ms. Philips said she would not release details of the spending on programs for the mentally retarded before the budget announcement. But she said under the Rendell administration, people have come off the lists because of increased funding in services.

"The bottom line is he cares about it," she said.

Mr. Clark, from Allegheny County's Office of Mental Retardation/Developmental Disabilities, said 70 people in Allegheny County last year were able to come off the waiting list to be serviced. Many of those still waiting need services in their homes, such as help cooking or money management -- the types of services that can be accomplished in fewer than 30 hours a week.

Others need placements in group homes or programs for job training or day services. People also need vouchers to pay for transportation.

Mr. Clark said the county makes sure that people who are left in unsafe situations are immediately placed at least in temporary care. If a mentally retarded adult who needs supervision is left alone, Mr. Clark said, there is emergency money that can be tapped to get that person into a bed, even if permanent housing has not yet been arranged.

In all, as of September, the county had 2,087 people who were fully serviced by the Office of Mental Health/Developmental Disabilities and another 3,735 were on waiting lists for services, including 1,337 who were receiving partial services.

Carrie Emerson's son is one of those who is not getting any services now.

James Patrick Emerson, 29, of Bridgeville, is mobile enough and trusting enough of others to be a danger to himself.

Life with James Emerson was different when his father was alive. Mr. Emerson listened to his father and trusted him, but he died in July 2003. His mother found she couldn't control him. One night two people she had never met arrived at her home while she was in bed to move her son to their apartment. Luckily, another son, an ex-football player, was there to stop it.

The last straw broke in August when the Social Security Administration awarded him nearly $14,000 in back payments. He disappeared for eight days. By the time his family found him, the money was gone.

Mrs. Emerson said she asked her son what happened. He said he had gone to Kennywood.

"I admit I squandered my life's savings," he said. "I gambled money away and I did some of everything."

Mrs. Emerson said people her son believes are his friends take advantage of him and, when his monthly Social Security check is deposited into his bank account, "the phone starts ringing."

She said his IQ measures in the mid-60s, rendering him very much like a pre-teen in a man's body.

He failed one job training program for having a bad attitude and not showing up. He needs a place to live, his mother said, because every day he is in her home their relationship deteriorates.

"I've done the best I can but I'm at a brick wall now."