Unsung Hero Gives His Heart to ‘Family’ at Strawberry Fields

OK, I’ll be honest. Of course, I’m always honest, but this time I’ll be really honest.

I’m a big fan of unsung heroes. When I see an ordinary man, woman, boy or girl who makes an extraordinary contribution to our community, I just have to get out my soap box and my bullhorn to offer a salute.

Such a person is Alan Sidwar, a highly valued employee of Strawberry Fields for nearly 33 years. You’ve probably never heard his name, but I guarantee he’s worthy of my soap box and my bullhorn. And with his 68^th birthday arriving on Monday, I decided that this profile of Alan was in order.

Ever since his Strawberry Fields employment began Sept. 6, 1988, the native of Cambria County has served as a “DSP” (direct support professional) with intellectually disabled adults. And for most of that time, he’s also been the assistant manager of a group home on Circleville Road.

Alan has directly served only a dozen or so individuals throughout his career, but his work with them has been all-consuming. He is the perfect blend of a compassionate heart and a mind that masters detail.

Yes, for all these years Alan Sidwar has monitored multitudinous medications. He’s ferried clients to community activities, jobs and medical appointments. He’s refereed spats between “brothers.” He’s supervised schedules—those of his clients and those of other Circleville staff. He’s provided meals to suit various dietary needs. He’s communicated regularly with clients’ parents. He’s adopted cats to add warmth to the home. And when COVID-19 brought 40 days of isolation last year, he actually stepped things up with digital communications and restaurant takeout to offset the dreariness of life. 

GRATEFUL LEADERS

None of Sidwar’s heroics are lost on the leaders of Strawberry Fields, the local agency that has served individuals with intellectual disability or mental illness for 49 years, all the while sounding like a Beatles fan club.

“He’s a supernova,” says Cindy Pasquinelli, CEO for Strawberry Fields. “He’s the perfect example of the Strawberry Fields mission in action. He is the consummate staff member, caretaker, supporter. And just the greatest example that we have of an employee that goes above and beyond every single day.

“You can imagine how many situations—sometimes a crisis—occur in a group home on a day-to-day basis. It’s not just keeping house or being a companion. And Alan is much, much more: a teacher and a quasi-parent.”

Adds Fran McDermid, the agency’s director of program operations, “He’s just so thoughtful and kind, fatherly and motherly all rolled up into one. He sees the residents as family, not just the people within his program.”

GRATEFUL PARENTS

Of course, it’s one thing for a fellow professional to declare that Alan Sidwar is like family to his clients. But it’s quite another thing when the actual mother or father of a client offers that description.  

Ellen Campbell and her husband, Jim, are the parents of Matt, a Circleville resident. They spend each weekend with Matt at their home, and Ellen says she’s always impressed by Alan’s greeting when they return their son to Circleville Road.  

“He always says the same thing to Matt: ‘I am so happy to see you.’ But that’s Alan. He’s always so positive. He’s a cheerleader, he’s a coach, he’s a family member.” 

Ellen, one of my high school classmates (State High ’70), values Alan’s heart but also his expertise.  “All of the three guys (at Circleville) have their little quirks in addition to their disabilities,” notes Ellen. “My son can be frustrating, I know that. But Alan always has a way to get through to him. His intuition regarding adults with intellectual disabilities is unparalleled.

“Matt likes superheroes, so if Matt is worried or upset, Alan will integrate that. Maybe he’ll tell a little story that involves Matt and then end by saying, ‘You can be Batman strong’ or ‘You’re going to be Superman today.’”

Linda Hoffman is the mother of Todd, a Circleville resident for the last 21 years. She says that one of Alan’s greatest strengths is that he is consistently positive.  

“He’s not a complainer,” Linda says, “and he always has solutions. He’s very good at staying in communication with us about what’s happening with our son. He really cares for the people he takes care of.”

HIS MOTIVATIONAL SOURCE

Even before I spoke directly to Alan, I knew that he does his job very well. And I knew that he’s been doing it for a long time. Only Pasquinelli and Irene Imler, the organization’s director of intellectual disabilities, have served longer with Strawberry Fields.

But I wondered about the source of Alan’s motivation for handling such a challenging role. As Pasquinelli herself notes, “He is doing one of the hardest jobs in the organization, and he’s been doing it more than 32 years. With a smile and with enthusiasm. If I could bottle what he brings to the table, we’d have no problems.”

And so I sat down with Alan and asked him the “why” question. And his answer took me back to his upbringing—to his mother and to the humble, little community of Hastings, located some 30 miles north of Johnstown.

“Everyone lived in sections,” Alan says, “and we were on Italian Hill. My mother was Italian, and she  grew up with all the neighbors. We were always doing things for people…when you don’t have a lot of money, you help each other. Everybody really cared about each other. I would say it’s a poor community, and it’s worse now because the steel mills and coal mines went out.”

To this day, Alan remembers helping one neighbor by carrying shingles for his roofing project.  And he recalls painting houses for free or for a pittance.  

“You didn’t make a lot of money doing that stuff,” he says, “but I always found it to be fulfilling.”

FINDING HIS CALLING

Following his 1976 graduation from Penn State (B.A. in psychology), Alan returned to Cambria County where he served with two agencies in providing care for adults with intellectual disabilities. But the appeal of Happy Valley lured him back here in 1980, and he worked for 11 years with David Weis, Inc., a catalog showroom store. During the last three years at David Weis, however, he served part-time because he had found his calling with Strawberry Fields.

And what a calling he found. Not only was he pleased with the agency (“Strawberry Fields is a wonderful organization”) but he found himself delighting in each positive step taken by his clients.

Such growth is often stimulated and encouraged through periodic ISP (“Individual Support Plan”) meetings that include a client and his or her parents, employer and government representatives. Alan’s creativity typically comes to the fore as he prepares his client for such a session.

One man had articulated the goal of visiting Iceland, so Alan deployed dry ice during the pre-trip ISP, and all the attendees were delighted by the atmosphere it created. Another client had always dreamed of imitating Elvis Presley, so when he entered an ISP meeting dressed in full Elvis garb, his foster parents gasped with amazement and joy.

SWEET MEMORIES

For Alan, the rewards of his career with Strawberry Fields go far beyond a paycheck. “It’s all about seeing them achieve their goals,” he says of his clients. “It’s their hopes and dreams.

“We helped get one guy ready to go to Hawaii on a guided tour, and his father cried when he took off in the airplane. The families are so happy when they are achieving their dreams. 

“We did a lot for another individual who has since passed away. He struggled with mental health issues, but he achieved so much—traveling places and even becoming a lay minister.  We would talk about his successes in newsletters or in presentations at meetings. So after he passed away, his family would look at those things and they were just so happy.

“We have an individual now whose goal was to find employment in the community, and he is working at one of the fast food places. It took him a while to get up to speed, but he’s been doing quite well. He got a T-shirt from his workplace that says, ‘You are awesome,’ and he got a little plaque that says how wonderful he is. He was just beaming. 

“Recently, we got a gentleman into Boy Scout camp, and I was in charge of taking him the first day to get the tent set up and get him settled. He usually doesn’t say too much, but he jumped up and down and was waving at people and giggling. You could just see the joy on his face. Those are the things that really make it worthwhile.”

A SELF-CONFESSED PACK RAT

Of course, Alan Sidwar wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have an oddity or two. And that brings us to the topic of Alan’s “stuff.”

“I grew up not having a lot of stuff,” he says, “and now I have stuff. Everybody says, ‘Get rid of the clutter, get rid of the clutter.’ 

“I had a one-bedroom apartment on Nittany Avenue, and when I moved to my house on Prospect Avenue, I filled it up with the stuff from the one-bedroom apartment. I love gadgets, and I also love 3D photography. I have old 3D cameras. And you know I love the Beatles.”

So, Alan, are you a pack rat?  “Oh yeah.  I have to get rid of some stuff.” 

WHAT ABOUT THE FUTURE?

Even though he’s a bit younger than me, I know the kinds of questions that will accompany Alan’s 68^th birthday. Yes, he’ll probably hear a query or two about the concept of retirement, so I decided to go there myself. 

Immediately, I was struck by the way he winced at the mention of “retirement” and by the James Franklin-esque answer that he gave me. “I’m taking it one day at a time,” he said.  

And then he added, “I still enjoy what I’m doing, so I’ll keep going as long as I can. I think being around young people keeps me younger.  But there are days when everything (especially his knees) ache.”  

Of course, the day that Alan Sidwar departs from the Circleville Road home won’t be a happy one for the residents or their parents.

Says Linda Hoffman, “If Alan had to leave, and I know he can’t stay forever, it would make a huge difference in Todd’s demeanor.” Adds Dan Hoffman, her husband and Todd’s dad, “When Alan goes, it’s going to be a big loss, not only for Todd but for all the clients that Alan helps to handle.”

But hey, this isn’t a column about retirement. Not at all. It’s actually an early notice of a birthday. One of our finest folks will turn 68 on Monday, and I think it would be delightful if he received a boatload of best wishes.  So here’s my little contribution: “Happy Birthday, Alan Sidwar! And thanks for making Happy Valley a little happier.”