The 28-year-old breaks into song from time to time, but is otherwise silent, pausing from his janitorial duties only to say hello to fellow workers at South Valley Care Center. Ask him to describe his job, however, and Yowell comes alive, proud of his newfound skills and his paycheck.
"You don't have to show your ID. You just take the check to the bank, write your account number on the back and they give you money," he preaches.
Yowell clocks in two days a week, earning less than $8 an hour. But being on the cleaning crew at a skilled nursing facility is better than the alternative: living in one. He is among 100 mentally disabled Utahns taking part in an experimental supported employment project that state officials say has improved lives and saved taxpayer dollars.
Often when young adults like Yowell age out of the public school system, they languish and lose life skills they've spent years honing. Many wind up on the state's 1,800-person waiting list for aid, and by the time they reach the top, have deteriorated to the point of requiring expensive institutionalization.
The employment project is a strategy that offers some support to Utahns in the middle or bottom of the list, prolonging, and possibly preventing, the need for more costly support later.
Utah officials can't say for certain, but suspect the experiment, which links disabled Utahns up with jobs and work coaches, has saved taxpayers up to $200,000.
It also shaved 48 names off the waiting list, benefiting the economy, said Paul Day, associate director of the Division of Services for People with Disabilities.
"It benefits the job coaches who are paid to train our clients," he said, "and enhances the financial outlook of our clients and their family members who might otherwise be forced to stay home and provide round-the-clock care. All those folks are spending their wages and paying taxes."
With today's worker shortage and booming economy, business owners also have something to gain.
Yowell is "a real asset," said Jackie Roden, the housekeeping supervisor at South Valley. "On a scale of 1 to 5, I have to give him a four. The only downside is he'll probably move on to bigger and better things."
That's Christine Yowell's hope. Her son has never been officially diagnosed as mentally retarded or autistic. But at age 2, it became apparent he was severely developmentally delayed, said the 53-year-old mother of three.
While in school, Yowell was a social butterfly. Active in sports, he earned medals in running, swimming and cross country skiing at the Special Olympics. But now he spends most of his time sitting at home, his mother said. "Outside of work, he doesn't have a lot of social interaction. He has no real friends."
Yowell enjoys his work, but his mother says, "It would be great if he moved into a higher paying job with longer hours. Eventually we'd like to see him become more independent and possibly live on his own in a supervised apartment."
Rep. Ronda Menlove, R-Garland, wants the Legislature to fund the employment project for another year along with two other measures aimed at helping Utahns in the middle or bottom of the waiting list.
HB49 would pay to launch two or three experimental adult day care centers, possibly in rural Utah where services are especially lean. HB47 would pay for in-home respite care for severely disabled adults to give their parents time to undergo specialized medical and financial caregiver training or marital counseling.
"The idea is to avoid caregiver burnout," said Menlove, citing the example of a friend who, every time she visits the grocery store, has to load her adult children into wheelchairs and take them with her.
"She can't leave them alone, because they have respiratory problems and need to be closely supervised," said Menlove.
Republican leaders have voiced concern about whether the government should be in the day-care business.
Menlove argued families, cash-strapped from years of expensive medical interventions, can't always afford the luxury of a baby-sitter. But, she stressed, she's not advocating free care.
The centers would charge parents on a sliding scale based on what they can afford, she said. "It's an experiment. We may find these centers are self-supporting and don't need government monies."
The total cost of both two-year pilots - $650,000 - pales in comparison with $159 million spent serving 4,600 Utahns in 2005.
Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. is calling for a $2 million funding increase this year.


