BRUNSWICK

On a sunny winter day, Brandon Ladner greeted guests at his home, showing them his toy sports balls. After introductions, he was patient but anxious to venture outside.

Though very social, he couldn’t tell his visitors he’d been waiting to meet them so he could go for his walk. At 43, Brandon is nonverbal and requires 24-hour care. His caretaker for five years, Chris Goyette of Independence Association, knew Brandon was itching to get outside. Independence Association staff knows Brandon enjoys exercise and will often take him into town to walk through stores and be around people.

His father, Peter Ladner, said his youngest of two sons was born in Woburn, Massachusetts, where in the ’70s there were tanning factories. With the factories came a high rate of children born with intellectual disabilities. He said there was a class action lawsuit against the city for water contamination.

But by that time Ladner had moved to Brunswick, was working hard and didn’t have time to join a lawsuit. He told his wife a lawsuit wouldn’t change their son, who was diagnosed many years ago being as severely intellectually disabled.

“Believe me, he’s had every test from everywhere you can imagine, and his mother did not like the word ‘ retarded.’ It was painful for her,” he said.

Later, it was determined Brandon has autistic tendencies, which drew some additional resources.

Brandon now lives in the second group home that Ladner worked with the state to have built.

Brandon lives in his own half of the home. On the other side live two men with severe autism. Amenities include a shower stall with water controls on the exterior for added safety measures. The home has radiant heat in the floor and a backup generator to give Ladner peace of mind.

He built the first house for Brandon in Harpswell in 1989, the year his wife was diagnosed with cancer — she died of the disease in 1994. Because he runs a funeral home, when his wife got sick, “it was a crisis for Brandon.” The state had approached him about building a group home as he was trying to find a way to ensure his son would be cared for in the future knowing, “I couldn’t do this all my life.”

Brandon moved into that group home on Jan. 1, 1990, and his father remembers the following Valentine’s Day. His wife came into his office and was feeling good, when the phone rang.

It was staff at Brandon’s house. Things were going badly, and Ladner said staff wasn’t trained properly.

“First of all, they gave the option to send him to Pineland,” Ladner said, referencing a former center in New Gloucester that could have potentially placed Brandon with a dangerous roommate. “ The bottom line is, I said that’s not an option. To say the least we were all upset.”

So they brought Brandon home for a couple of weeks so that staff could undergo training. He built the second home in Brunswick.

A difficult beginning

Ladner, now 75, has run Brackett Funeral Home since 1973. After Brandon was born in 1972, he sensed something was wrong and their new pediatrician in Maine agreed they should go to Boston to have him evaluated. After at least three visits, a neurologist told the Ladners: “One of the most difficult things that you’re going to come upon is that … he’s going to look normal to most people so they think they can fix him. You can’t.”

Ladner remembers the neurologist saying: “People are always going to think they can fix him and you’ll find after they work so long at it, they’ll disappear. And he was right on.”

When Brandon was about 3, his family placed him in a Montessori school that focuses on special needs children run by a woman on McKeen Street, Ladner said.

“ I can’t say it changed anything, but it gave us a respite for two or three hours,” he said.

The family lived at the funeral home. He recalled that his had to take Brandon out of the house whenever there was a funeral service. During Brandon’s school years, Ladner remembers how hard school vacations were with trying to run a business with someone who needed the level of attention Brandon did.

“ Sounds strange, but I never slept for more than an hour in a row for 17 years,” Ladner said.

Though he got little sleep, he’d get up at 6 a.m. to run with friends, he said, because: “It was like shooting yourself with a little bit of adrenaline because sometimes I’d wake up in the morning and feel like crying.”

“In those days I remember once (my wife) came in and said, ‘Neighbors called and Brandon is down on Stetson Street and he’s pushing a stretcher.’ It was empty,” Ladner said. “You deal with this 24/7.”

Some parents alienate themselves and try to take care of their special needs children alone. But Ladner had friends who’d offer to help and perhaps take Brandon for a walk. They had a man who worked for them who Ladner said was like another parent. He used to wait for Brandon to come home from school and in the winter would take Brandon in the truck when he plowed the driveway.

“I was very fortunate to have people who cared and the other thing is, he made me a better person, there’s no doubt about it. And I never wasted any money. Any bit of money I’ve ever made, I saved it to invest,” to ensure Brandon would be cared for.

Uncertain future

That is something he worries about today as the state wants to take control of rule and funding changes, bypassing the Legislature and implementing a new funding formula for people with developmental and intellectual disabilities. Instead of a team of family members and providers determining their level of need, individuals would be assigned a number from 1 to 5 indicating their level of need based on a series of questions for caregivers and brief observation.

Ladner said there are improvements that can be made, but he doesn’t agree with throwing out the whole system.

Brandon is on the high end of the spectrum of need, but Ladner doesn’t know if that will continue to be the case. He is worried that Brandon will lose 12 hours of his 24-hour care.

“My concern is not just for Brandon but for special needs people going forward,” Ladner said. “I don’t want him warehoused.”

“ That’s why people worked for years to close Pineland down. Now they’re not honoring the Pineland Decree,” he said, referencing a 1978 consent agreement directing placement of Pineland residents in the community. “They want to ignore that.”

FOUR-PART SERIES:

• On Tuesday: A look at Dave Baker, an individual with disabilities who functions with a degree of independence

• On Wednesday: A look at Kate Riordan, an individual with moderate disabilities

• Today: A look at Brandon Ladner, an individual with severe disabilities

• On Friday: A look at the proposed Supports Intensity Scale for allocating resources to those with disabilities

dmoore@timesrecord.com