Our Appeals
Please read our Appeals and learn how your support helps adults with autism and developmental disabilities continue to age in place with dignity, comfort, and security.
Summer 2026
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Dear Friends,
This year, we celebrated 20 years of Taste of Westport—20 years of raising funds for CLASP.
As we reflect on this milestone, we'd like to ask you a simple question:
Where were you 20 years ago?
Were your children still at home?
Were you just starting your career?
Had you met your spouse yet?
Were you living in a different town, a different home, perhaps living a completely different life?
Now think about how far you've come.
For many of the people we serve, the last twenty years have been even more transformative.
Twenty years ago, some of our residents lived in institutions, with little privacy, few choices, and limited opportunities. Today, they live in homes. They have neighbors, friends, jobs, hobbies, and people who care about them.
Twenty years ago, many families worried constantly about what the future would hold for their loved one. Today, they have peace of mind knowing their family member is safe, supported, and living a life filled with dignity, purpose, and belonging.
This progress didn't happen overnight. It happened one day at a time, one home at a time, one person at a time.
And it happened because people like you believed that every person deserves the opportunity to thrive.
We are deeply grateful to everyone who supported CLASP at this year's Taste of Westport. But after the last oyster was shucked, the final champagne glass was poured, and the lights went out, the needs remained.
And the mission continues.
As we look ahead to the next twenty years, the need for CLASP's services continues to grow. Our residents are aging, our homes require ongoing maintenance, and the cost of providing high-quality care continues to rise.
Your gift today helps ensure that adults with autism and developmental disabilities continue to have what every person deserves: a safe home, meaningful relationships, and the opportunity to live a full and rewarding life.
Please help us continue building futures and changing lives for the next twenty years.
Annual Appeal 2025
Finding Home: Josie and Tony’s Journey to CLASP
From the time she could walk, Josie’s world was a storm—screams, head-banging, broken objects, and with parents who loved her fiercely, but had no road map for the chaos. Microcephaly shaped her young brain, but it was the fear and helplessness in her parents’ eyes that revealed a harsh reality. By five years old, on the state’s advice, they placed her in an institution. It must have felt like survival and betrayal all at once.
Her older brother Tony grew up fighting too—surviving a severe chest deformity, only to tragically lose both parents by adolescence. Their grandmother tried, but as Tony’s delays grew clearer, his needs deeper, he too was placed in an institution. The siblings spent childhood mostly apart, reuniting on rare holidays. The brightest memories were of Thanksgiving days at their Aunt’s house—a warm kitchen, Cousin Sally’s giggles, Josie soaking up one-onone attention, and Tony piling a plate high with his favorite comfort: food. For those few hours, they were a typical family.
As adults, their paths grew harsher. Josie was moved to Southbury Training School, where Cousin Sally constantly found her bruised—they were deep, dark, and undeniable. Tony was transferred from one facility to another, neglected into silence. Sally refused to let either of them disappear and she began fighting for their way out. Sally searched until she found a place that could finally offer Josie safety—a room at a CLASP home on Sturges Highway. For the first time, Josie lived somewhere warm, safe, and human. Her anxiety softened; her fear loosened. She still cried, “Don’t hit me!”—memories she couldn’t shake—but now she had people who protected her.
Years later, it was again Sally’s persistence and newfound appreciation of CLASP that opened another door —this time for Tony. She secured him a spot at a CLASP home on Crest Terrace. On his first day, he walked into the backyard, sat on the swing, and lifted his face to the sun. When asked why he was so happy, he smiled and said, “Because I can be outside.” His health changed from that day on. No more endless hospital visits. No more isolation.
Now, living just minutes apart, Tony and Josie finally have what institutions stole from them: each other. They call often, visit one another’s homes, go to CLASP events, eat lunch together. Josie beams whenever she sees him—“My brother Tony!” This Thanksgiving, they were at Sally’s, just like the old days. After forty years of trauma, displacement, and survival, they are living dignified, joy-filled lives—because CLASP gave them safety, respect, and a place to belong. Mansfield closed long ago; Southbury’s troubling history remains.
We may never know what Josie endured behind those walls.
But we do know this: She survived. Tony survived. And at CLASP, they are finally home.
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