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A mother told us about her agonizing journey with Pa.'s mental health care system. What happened next?

by Danielle Ohl of Spotlight PA |

A photo of notebook paper, a cross, and sobriety chips.
Nate Smallwood / For Spotlight PA

This story first appeared in The Investigator, a weekly newsletter by Spotlight PA featuring the best investigative and accountability journalism from across Pennsylvania. Sign up for free here.

When you work on one story for two years, you can lose the perspective you had as a newcomer.

You’ve checked every fact, scrutinized every word. You think there’s no possible way someone could think of a question you haven’t already asked or have a reaction you haven’t already anticipated.

Then, you hit publish.

In July, Spotlight PA published the first part of my investigation into Pennsylvania’s mental health system. The piece tells the story of Sue — a mother whose son Robert has struggled for years with a serious mental illness — as a way of grounding the other reporting, which exposes more than 30 years of failed promises from state officials to build a robust, community-based mental health system.

I anticipated some of the responses I received from police officers, patients, doctors, former state officials — all of whom affirmed the story we published matched their experience with the system.

I didn’t expect the number one question I received from family and friends: What happened to Robert?

It seems obvious to me now that readers would have more questions about Sue and Robert, the real people I chose to anchor my reporting, than the wonkier aspects of state governance and funding.

If you have the same question, I’m sorry to say I don’t have an uplifting answer.

Sue and Robert are in largely the same place now, two years after the events of the story. Sue lives in the same house where she saved her son from ending his life.

She has good days and bad days, like we all do. She sees her grandchild, Robert’s daughter, and celebrates the milestones of her life. But she doesn’t see Robert, and she doesn’t always know where he is.

Last she heard, he is in another state, living at a homeless shelter.

I can appreciate that readers are hopeful for happy endings in stories like these. There’s something very human about expecting or needing an encouraging conclusion to so much strife and loss. But the truth is, Sue and Robert’s story isn’t happy because the system doesn’t make happiness possible.

But in telling their story, I hope to move people in power to make the changes necessary for better endings.