Who's watching -- The Wanderers -- Newsday.com

Ethel Danzker was wearing a thin polyester dress, stockings and sneakers when she wandered out of Birchwood Assisted Living in East Northport and into the darkness. The average temperature that December day was 37 degrees.

A few years earlier, Danzker had suffered a series of small strokes that left her frail and disoriented, barely recognizable as the once mentally sharp woman known for her stuffed cabbage and soft hugs. Eventually, her family placed her at Birchwood in a special unit for people with dementia.

On this evening, the 89-year-old grandmother was able to slip outside unnoticed just after dinner. But she would walk only several feet farther before falling into a fish pond on the property. There, an aide would eventually find her lying face down in the knee-deep water, according to state records.

Rushed to Huntington Hospital, Danzker battled hypothermia and a lung infection that came from the cold, stagnant pond water she inhaled.

Three weeks later, she was dead.

"I never thought this would be the way she would die," said Danzker's youngest daughter, Sheila Shaw of East Northport, her anger still evident long after her mother's 1999 death. A Birchwood spokesman said its staff did nothing inappropriate, but Shaw says, "it was understood they were taking on a woman with dementia. They were supposed to be watching her."

Danzker's case is not unusual. Since 1998, at least 126 elderly people have been reported missing from centers that offer assisted living on Long Island, a Newsday investigation has found. And at least seven have died.

Some wanderers were found miles away, at train stations, on busy highways including the Long Island Expressway, and in New York City. But others didn't get far at all: Two elderly women with dementia were found dead in sub-freezing weather within feet of the centers where they lived.

Once, these frail and confused individuals might have died at a younger age from other causes, or received care at home or in nursing homes. But now, they are being placed, in rapidly growing numbers, in assisted living facilities that are often neither set up nor regulated to accommodate them.

Since Danzker's death, some centers have increased security for residents with dementia, many of whom have Alzheimer's disease. But the problem continues.

Questionable care

As recently as March 23, one resident, Emmy Eriksson, disappeared for eight hours after wandering from Castle Senior Living in Plainview. She was wearing only a T-shirt and jeans, on a day when the average temperature was 32 degrees.

Eriksson, 78, was found around 7 p.m. after police scoured the area with helicopters and a search dog. She was shivering, huddled in a unlocked car in the center's parking lot.

Eriksson, who has had Alzheimer's for 10 years, had soiled herself and "was shaking and cold," said daughter, Jeanne Widman of Lindenhurst. When she saw her, Widman said, all the elderly woman could say was "mommy, mommy, mommy."

"She calls me mommy," Widman explained.

In addition to the problem of wandering, Newsday found case after case in which residents with dementia have been victimized by bad health care, medication errors, theft and even violence at the hands of other residents with the same condition.

There's the former teacher's aide, 75, who died of heart disease after she refused 19 doses of heart medicine without a doctor or her family ever being told. And the 62-year old woman whose family believes for eight days, she was mistakenly given a diuretic, used to help the body shed fluids, instead of the Prozac prescribed for her depression.

There's the 97-year-old great- grandmother whose platinum and diamond engagement ring, which she wore every day for more than 60 years, suddenly disappeared without her realizing it was gone. And the retired salesman, 84, who was beaten so badly by another resident with dementia that doctors had to place titanium screws in his cheek to keep his eye socket intact.

In some cases, these problems might have been avoided if the residents could remember medication schedules or recognize drugs they're supposed to take. If they could clearly communicate how they feel, or understand the need to avoid a resident displaying anger. But the percentage of residents who lack these basic abilities is growing as new therapies keep people alive longer, and busy, two-income families can't care for the elderly at home.

A growing segment