Not all that long ago, many people with intellectual disabilities were relegated to institutions where, at best, their basic needs were met and at worst, they were crowded, neglected, and abused. They were separated from their families — who often were unable to provide adequate care — and rarely, if ever, thought to have talents and competencies that might allow them to live in and contribute to their communities. One of those people is Madeline. Madeline spent nearly 25 years — from the time she was 15 until she was in her early 40s — at the Pineland Center, where she says, she suffered nearly every kind of abuse. She was often stripped and locked in a 6x8 timeout room, tied spread-eagled to a bed and sprayed in the face with lime juice and forbidden bathroom privileges. Though unable to speak intelligibly, Madeline was very able to make her needs known, but her methods coupled with the resulting treatment created a classic catch-22. The more Madeline felt ignored and abused, the more aggressively she behaved — and the more she was mistreated by the very people who were supposed to care for her. Then, in 1981, as a result of the Pineland Consent Decree, Madeline was referred to OHI — and directly into the hands of founder Bonnie Brooks. "I had no idea how we were going to manage Madeline's behaviors, but I knew somehow we would — and I knew no one should be treated the way she'd been treated," says Bonnie. "From the start we could see she had wonderful characteristics and everyone loved her, even though we sometimes felt very frustrated. She had a sense of humor, she could be thoughtful of others and she was the best self-advocate I'd ever met. She knew how to get our attention." Now 64 — and thanks to OHI's employment support services — the woman who spent most of her days at Pineland in restraints spends 15 hours a week shredding retired client files at Eaton Peabody, a law firm in Bangor, Maine. Her corner of a warehouse-like room is decorated with photos of Elvis Presley (her "loverboy," she says), and a nearby desk is piled with paper in ten-pound stacks. Across the room sit boxes of old files and garbage bags filled with more discarded paper, which Madeline sorts, removing paper clips and the cardboard backs of legal pads, before her job coach Sandi Dostie helps her weigh and stack enough paper for the day. "I love my job," she says. 'I never want to get fired. Shredding is the best part, but I also have to keep an eye out on the place when Sandi goes to the ladies' room."