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Staartsäit / Albumen / Schlagwuert Wade Blank 138
- ADAPT (193)
The San Diego Union, Sunday, February 10, 1985, B-4 PHOTO by United Press International/Paul Richards: 11 people in wheelchairs sit facing away from the camera, beside a Trailways bus. The group includes Bob Conrad who is closest the bus door, and Beverly Furnice who is closest to the camera. They are looking at Wade Blank, who stands beside the bus and it looks like Mike Auberger is addressing the group. Caption reads: A dozen members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation block departure of this Trailways bus after a member was refused a ticket. [Headline] Wheelchair-bound stop Trailways bus By Ric Bucher, Staff Writer Claude Holcomb tried to take a 4:15 pm. Trailways bus from the depot on State and C streets to Los Angeles yesterday, but he was not allowed to buy a ticket. There were only two passengers aboard, but Holcomb is confined to a wheelchair. Trailways buses are not accessible to people in wheelchairs. “I have a friend in L.A.,” Holcomb spelled out on a homemade message board he uses to communicate. “I have to fly from L.A. to Hartford, Conn., tomorrow.” Holcomb lives in Hartford. Shortly before the bus was due to depart, Holcomb, 24, along with 11 other members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT), hemmed the bus in with their wheelchairs and refused to move. Police officers arrived at 4:35 p.m. and told the group that they were breaking the law by obstructing traffic and trespassing. The ADAPT members will appear at the American Public Transportation Association's (APTA) meeting this morning. They have been granted 30 minutes to air their plea for both wheelchair-accessible transit buses on both local and interstate lines. Twenty of 29 San Diego Transit bus routes have wheelchair access, but no such equipment is in use on intercity or interstate public buses. Joe Carle, an ADAPT community organizer in Denver, parked his wheelchair in front of the bus and tilted back his black felt cowboy hat. “This may seem like it’s drastic,” he said, “but it’s the only way to open people’s eyes. ... What good is it if a person has to stay in a one-block area?” Similar demonstrations were held recently in Denver and Washington, D.C., in conjunction with scheduled APTA meetings. Carle said the attitude toward the disabled seems to be “we'll do everything we can to keep you alive, but we don’t want you around.” He said ADAPT was specifically focusing on Trailways and Greyhound Bus Lines because they are owned by companies who manufacture their own buses, yet refuse to construct them to accommodate wheelchairs. The bus driver and two passengers, Michael Calloway, 23, and Claude Williams, 26, got off the bus and waited inside the depot. “I think they (the disabled) have the right to board the bus,” Calloway said. Williams nodded his head in agreement. “It throws us off schedule, but I’d like to see something done about it (bus access for the disabled). I don’t think it’s right for them to (delay the bus) but I understand. Sometimes it takes a little push and shove to get things done." Able-bodied Wade Blank organized the group's meeting at the bus station. Blank is one of the six founders of ADAPT. Two years ago, he adopted Heather, a 14-year-old girl confined to a wheelchair, and married her mother. He described the attitude toward the disabled as “just another ‘ism’ — paternalism. It's just like racism and sexism.” After police told the group they were breaking the law, Mike Auberger, spokesman for the wheelchair group, asked to speak with the manager of the terminal, Fred Kroner, who was summoned from his home in Chula Vista. Kroner spoke with Auberger and his group at the door of the bus. He was asked to set up a meeting in Denver with Trailways’ national representatives. “For what?” Kroner asked “To talk about making these buses accessible," said Auberger. Fifteen minutes later, Kroner said he could reach no one, and gave Auberger the phone number of Roger Rydell, vice president in charge of public relations at Trailways’ Dallas headquarters. The group let the bus leave. “I won't be satisfied until these buses are accessible,” Auberger said, “but this is the first step in the process.” - ADAPT (195)
Handicapped Coloradan, vol 7 no 5, December 1984 [Headline] ADAPT HEADS FOR SAN DIEGO The executive board of the American Public Transit Association (APTA) has agreed to vote on a resolution calling upon the nation’s transit systems to provide accessible mainline bus service. That vote will take place when the executive board meets in San Diego Feb. 9 or 10. Wade Blank, a spokesperson for the group pressuring APTA to endorse the resolution, said he expects that the APTA board will summarily vote it down. Two years ago the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) put such a resolution before the national convention of APTA when it met in Denver. While APTA allowed the presentation, it refused to vote on the resolution. Twenty-eight ADAPT members were arrested for civil disobedience outside the convention hall when APTA met in Washington, D.C., in October 1984. Following that convention, ADAPT asked new APTA chairman Warren Frank, director of the Syracuse, N.Y., transit system, for a meeting to discuss accessibility. Frank responded by reiterating his opposition to mandatory accessibility. “The transit industry has thoroughly studied the matter and as a result strongly endorses current federal requirements which provide the flexibility for each local community to meet the needs of their handicapped citizens with specialized services or full accessibility or a combination of both," Frank said in a letter to Blank dated Nov. 2. Blank wired this response: “Your letter . . . is a sign of your bad faith and lack of moral resolve when it comes to the rights of disabled people. To offer us a statement of APTA's policy toward the disabled citizen and indicate your unwillingness to be flexible is no different than Governor Wallace standing in the doorway to prevent blacks from integrating." The telegram concluded with a warning that ADAPT would show up at the Western Regional Convention of APTA in San Antonio, Tex., April 20-24. Frank finally agreed to meet with representatives of ADAPT in Chicago Dec. 6. Frank was accompanied by APTA attorney Robert Batchelder and executive vice president Jack R. Gilstrap. Gilstrap, who runs the daily APTA operations, has been the target of a number of vocal attacks by ADAPT members. "For the first time Jack Gilstrap actually shook my hand and smiled at me," Blank said after returning from the Chicago meeting. APTA agreed to allow ADAPT to make a 20-minute presentation of the merits of accessibility at the San Diego board meeting. APTA further agreed to provide the names and addresses of board members so that ADAPT could lobby them in advance of the meeting. ADAPT has said it will cancel the demonstration in San Antonio in the unlikely event the APTA board supports mainline access in all cities. In the meantime, ADAPT has continued working on plans for the San Antonio convention. Organizers believe the smaller nature of that regional convention will make it easier for them to disrupt it. Blank said ADAPT intended to be at every APTA meeting until they agree to total accessibility. ADAPT is still working with Rep. Pat Schroeder's (D-Colo.) office on a fundraiser to help pay the bond money for the 28 demonstrators arrested in Washington during the October APTA convention. The Washington chapter of ADAPT has pressured the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (WMATA) board of directors to establish a policy that all newly purchased buses will be equipped with wheelchair lifts. WMATA was to vote on that resolution Jan. 10. - ADAPT (196)
The Handicapped Coloradan PHOTO 1: Four police officer surround a man (Bob Kafka) in a manual wheelchair. Two are holding his arms behind his back, forcing his head and shoulders toward the ground as he is twisted in his wheelchair. Another officer is putting handcuffs on one of his wrists. Caption reads: BOB KAFAY [sic] is handcuffed from behind by police after being arrested at the Bonaventure Hotel in Los Angeles this past October. Kafay and other members of American Disabled for Public Transit were demanding mandatory accessible public transit. PHOTO 2: A woman in a power wheelchair, sits in the middle of the front of the bus, stopping it in the street. Someone is standing at the left front corner of the bus beside another person in a wheelchair [possibly Larry Ruiz]. In front of this group another wheelchair user with a lap board sits in the middle of the street. On the side of the road an officer with a radio is standing, and on the near side of the bus a woman also stands and watches. All the faces are in shadow so it is hard to tell who anyone is. Caption reads: TWO PROTESTORS managed to collar a bus during an early action In Dallas, Texas. "The laughed at us. They didn't think a handful of us could stop the buses." continued from p. 16? By January 1986 ADAPT Texas felt sure enough of itself to directly challenge transit providers in Houston and Dallas to reverse their policy on accessibility. Ironically, at one time Houston boasted more accessible mainline buses than any other city in the country. After intense lobbying by the Coalition for Barrier Free Living, the Houston Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) purchased 326 Grumman Flxible 870 buses equipped with EEC lifts in 1977. That represents 50 percent of the city's total bus fleet. The decision to purchase those buses came only after members of the Coalition staged a sit-in at the office of then MTA executive director Barry Goodman, who had earlier refused to meet with representatives of the group to discuss accessibility. Goodman declined to make a commitment to accessibility at the subsequent meeting. Coalition members joined forces with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) in a lawsuit that would have prevented MTA from purchasing any other buses until it had agreed to provide mainline service to wheelchair users. Coalition members took to the streets and blocked buses. MTA finally gave in to their demands but, according to coalition members, once the buses were on the streets MTA did nothing to publicize the routes. As a result few disabled passengers used the lifts. The death blow to accessibility in Houston came when cracks developed in the front frames of the new buses. MTA attributed the cracks to the EEC lifts, though the same cracks appeared in other buses in other parts of the country that had not installed lifts. MTA later admitted that the lifts did not cause the cracks, but when the Grumman buses were pulled out of service, Houston chose not to replace them with lift-equipped buses. The coalition's transportation committee had by this time disbanded, and accessibility ceased to be a front-page issue in Houston until some 20 Houston ADAPT members issued a Jan. 22, 1986, press release demanding that MTA proclaim its intention to purchase only lift-equipped buses. ADAPT gave MTA until July 4 to alter its position. ADAPT charged that MTA's Advisory Committee of the Disabled and Elderly was powerless and had done nothing to promote accessibility since it was formed. "The right to move freely in Houston usurps the recommendations of any committee," the ADAPT release said. A symbolic rally was held outside MTA's headquarters on Feb. l2 — Lincoln's birthday — to protest what ADAPT called a segregated transit system that makes slaves of the city's disabled population. Symbolism was also behind ADAPT's choice of Jan. l5, l986 Martin Luther King, ]r.'s, birthday — for its showdown with the Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART). Several of those same "outside agitators” who had irked the San Antonio Light made the 800-mile trip from Denver to participate in the demonstration. Among them was Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic community organizer for the Atlantis Community, who just may have been arrested more times than any other wheelchair activist in the movement. Auberger was not alone. Seventeen demonstrators, including several first-timers, were arrested. Denver's Kathy Vincent was among that group. Altogether the demonstrators managed to block l7 buses for more than six hours before the police stepped in and forcibly removed them from the streets. Not all the fireworks took place on the streets, however. The night before, at a regular monthly meeting of DART's executive board, ADAPT made known its intention to bring traffic to a standstill in Dallas the next day. "They laughed at us," Blank said. "They didn't think a handful of us could stop the buses." But Blank said DART's new executive director, Ted Tedesco, until recently a University of Colorado vice chancellor, knew different. “He knows what we can do. His face went white when we entered the room." At first, DART refused to hear from ADAPT. However, several ADAPT members began chanting "We will ride!", making it impossible for the DART meeting to continue. After making their presentation, several protestors showered the board with play money to symbolize the wasted tax dollars DART has put into non-accessible systems. Not all the news from Texas is bleak, however. ADAPT Austin has succeeded in winning 100 percent of off-peak hour accessibility from Capital Metro as of July 1, 1986. More than 50 percent of that city's peak hour routes will be accessible once l00 lift-equipped buses arrive this summer. Jim Parker reports that El Paso ADAPT is pushing the city to activate the 30 lift-quipped buses the system owns but has never operated. That would mean 50 percent accessible service during off-peak hours, according to Parker, who was among the first Texans to receive training from the Denver parent group. Auberger and other Coloradans had helped Parker block buses and stage a demonstration at a non-wheelchair-accessible McDonald's restaurant two years before. - ADAPT (204)
[Headline] Disabled riders hopeful after meeting transport officials San Diego Union By Ric Bucher, Staff Writer 2/11/85 Mike Auberger and Dana Jackson were not smiling when they wheeled out of the Hilton Hotel's Capri Room, but they were hopeful. Auberger and Jackson, along with 13 other wheelchaired members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, asked board members of the American Public Transportation Association to endorse full accessibility for the disabled to all public transit vehicles. And they aimed their plea at the board members’ hearts rather than their budget. “I think we really shook them up,” Jackson said. “They have come a long way,” Auberger said. “Two years ago, they didn't want us in the room. This time they asked questions.” One of those questions, posed by John Pingree, transit manager of Salt Lake City, Utah, personalized one of APTA’s primary disagreements with the ADAPT group. The transit manager said he has an autistic child whom handicap requires the use of specially equipped vans presently available to the handicapped in most cities. The cost of fitting public transportation system with wheelchair lifts, ramps and wider doorways would take away funds currently subsidizing these van services, APTA members claim. ADAPT members say, however, that the van service method is severely handicapped itself. Van service must be reserved 24 hours in advance for a specific time and destination, and ADAPT members say the vans segregate them from the rest of the public. “Imagine if you had to program your car 24 hours in advance every time you wanted to go anywhere, and that was the only way you could get there,” Jackson said. Jackson is the ADAPT transportation coordinator in Washington, D.C. Wade Blank, who helped found ADAPT 12 years ago, said the group's appeal focused on “the moral imperative” aspect of equal access, instead of “costs and everything else.” Blank, who is not disabled, feels the transit system discriminates against the disabled now as it once did against black people. Blank believes the presentation created a rift between transit managers who have superior handicap access – Seattle was cited as the best – and those with lesser facilities. San Diego is one of the worst, according to Auberger. APTA’s executive vice president, Jack Gilstrap, said the APTA board has appointed a committee to study the ADAPT and give a report, tomorrow. Gilstrap said the main purpose of the meeting here is to address the severe budget cuts planned for the Department of Transportation by the government. - ADAPT (216)
[Headline] Protest by disabled clogs downtown L.B. PRESS-TELEGRAM (AM/PM)/THURSDAY, Oct. 10, 1985, p. A10 FROM/A1 batch of arrests in the 200 block of Pine. At that point, protest leader Rev. Wade Blank, of Denver, told police there would be no further disruptions. Blank thanked the police for the way the department had handled the demonstration and said the remaining protesters were tired and hungry. During the afternoon, police Lt. Norm Benson conferred at length with protest leaders, pointing out that, despite whatever police sympathies there might be for the cause, the event took patrolmen off their rounds and posed an impediment to emergency vehicles. Benson even made a call to the Bonaventure Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, where the American Public Transit Association is holding a convention, in an attempt to reach Laurence Jackson, general manager and president of Long Beach Transit and new president of the APTA, to urge him to speak by phone with an ADAPT spokesperson. Guy Heston, the bus company’s director of marketing, interviewed at the scene of the bus tie-ups, said the request to talk with Jackson was untenable because "they came unannounced, and, as you know, he has commitments at the convention." An ADAPT spokesman, Jim Parker of El Paso, told a reporter as he was being steered toward a Dial-a-Lift van for the trip to the Long Beach jail, "This is probably going to be the largest mass arrest of disabled people in the history of this country." He stressed that the targets of Wednesday's demonstration and one Monday in the office of Rep. Glenn Anderson, D-Long Beach, were the APTA, which closes its four-day convention today in Los Angeles, and Anderson, as chairman of the House subcommittee on surface transportation. "One very important thing for the people of Long Beach, Los Angeles County and California to understand," Parker said, "is that this is not aimed at them, because California and cities like Long Beach and Los Angeles are really models for the country to look at. "Most of the buses have lifts on them, and all new buses purchased will have lifts. "I guess, for the first time, disabled people have come to the city where the president of APTA resides . . . to help pull the federal government back into the issue again, along with APTA." ADAPT asserts that it was a legal action by APTA, followed by an administrative order in early months of the first Reagan administration, that killed a law mandating phased in accessibility for the disabled to public transit across the country. The order left the decision up to local option. Jackson could not be reached for comment Wednesday, but Long Beach Transit Assistant General Manager Patrick Butters said that nine of 18 fixed routes in Long Beach are wheelchair accessible, while 85 percent of all the company's public buses in the city are equipped with wheelchair lifts. "On an ongoing basis we’ve been increasing that" percentage, said Butters. A committee on the handicapped advises Long Beach Transit on which bus routes to offer lift service on, said Butters. "We’ve tried to hit the routes that are most heavily traveled," he said. An average of 12 to 14 persons a day who are confined to wheelchairs ride on fixed Long Beach Transit routes, said Butters. In addition to regular bus service, Dial-a-Lift service is available in Long Beach, Lakewood and Signal Hill, he added. At the height of the protest, Frank Lozano and Martin Walton took a stand in front of an RTD bus that had eight Long Beach Transit buses backed up behind it at Pine and Broadway. The passengers of those idled buses, workers and schoolchildren heading for home, were not happy with the delay. "Hey, I just want to go home; take a shower, eat some supper and watch the ball game," said one man. But Lozano, who is blind, and Walton, confined to a wheelchair, held their ground. "No, it doesn't surprise me,” Lozano said of the anger from the riders. "I realize that there are many people who are unaware of the issues." California is one of two states – Michigan is the other — that mandate that all new public transit buses be equipped with wheelchair lifts. The demonstrators said they were aware of this but believe that Jackson and APTA can pressure the other 48 states into enacting similar legislation. Press-Telegram staff writer Don Currie contributed to this article. Photo located on top middle of the page. Woman in an electric wheelchair wearing ADAPT stickers raises her hand in a power fist and yells. Meanwhile two informed officers load her onto a lift equipped paratransit van. The driver of the van stands in the doorway waiting. A person in a wheelchair watches from the side. Photo credit: Michael Rondou/Press-Telegram Caption: Protester is lifted onto a Dial-a-Lift van, which has the access she wants on buses, after her arrest on Long Beach Boulevard. - ADAPT (218)
A photo (by Tom Olin?): A group of demonstrators, some using wheelchairs, seem to be waiting by the side of the road. Three posters are readable: "ACCESSIBLE TRANSPORTATION NOW!" and "APTA OPPRESSES." Diane Coleman sits on the left side of the picture holding a CAPH (California Association of the Physically Handicapped) sign, beside her a woman stands, hands on her hips, behind her an attendant is standing. Beside her Tom Pugh sits in a manual wheelchair, and on his other side Frank McColm is also in a manual chair looking over his shoulder to his right. Standing behind and beside Frank, slightly behind the APTA Oppresses sign Wade Blank stands with his arms crossed in front of his ADAPT T-shirt. Beside him is another person standing. On the far right in the very front Beverly Furnice reclines in her chair looking off to her left with an unreadable sign in her lap. - ADAPT (219)
Denver Post, Issues, 10/6/85, no page number [Headline] Transit leaders to face protests from disabled By Jack Farrar Special to the Denver Post The American Public Transit Association will run into some political street theater when it rolls into Los Angeles today for its annual meeting. Waiting for the group will be a militant cast of handicapped individuals, including members of a Denver organization called Atlantis, who want full accessibility to the nation's public transportation system. As APTA delegates convene at the Westin Bonaventure Hotel, more than 100 people in wheelchairs – members of the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit – will be “marching” single-file from MacArthur Park, more than a mile away, to begin a week-long series of demonstrations. They won't have a parade permit. They haven't asked for one. Through such acts of civil disobedience, the demonstrators hope to force the APTA, public officials and the news media to think about what they consider to be the most pressing issue facing the handicapped: access to public transportation. One contingent of protesters will be led by Wade Blank, a 44-year-old Denverite who cut his activist teeth in the 1960s, marching with blacks in Alabama and peaceniks in Ohio. Access 'a right'[boldface] Blank is the founder and executive director of Atlantis, one of ADAPT's most militant member organizations. “Jobs and education don't mean much,” Blank argues, “if you can't take a bus to get there. Accessibility to public transportation – moving from one place to the other – should be a right, not just a consumer service.” For the past three years, ADAPT, largely under Blank's leadership, has demanded that APTA adopt total accessibility for the handicapped as an official policy rather than as an objective. Transit association officials have responded by citing numerous improvements made in service for the handicapped – improvements that the handicapped have applauded – and contends that total accessibility is financially impractical. “We have not ignored the handicapped,” says APTA Deputy Executive Director Albert Engelken. “Accessibility is a compelling issue. But total accessibility is an enormous undertaking, and with federal dollars shrinking, our resources are limited. In any case, it is not the role of an association like ours to establish policy.” Disabled activists, however, believe the costs of accessibility are distorted by the transportation industry. Moreover, they argue, the issue is civil rights, not economics. “Public transportation is a tax-supported system,” Blank says. “The handicapped pay taxes. It's as simple as that. How would the average taxpayer feel if he was denied access to a facility he paid for?” Long regarded as a quiet minority, disabled individual recently have added a more confrontational approach to their struggle for equality, and the man frequently in the front lines of that movement is Blank, whose long blond hair and granny glasses evoke the image of the 1960s activist. He encourages the handicapped to take to the streets when they feel their demands are being taken less than seriously. Members of Atlantis have made headlines locally and nationally with their tactics in Denver – chaining themselves to seats of fast food restaurants, occupying intersections that don't accommodate wheelchairs, and blocking the entrances to buildings with architectural barriers. Rules watered down [boldface] Progress in making public transportation available to the handicapped can be traced to the Urban Mass Transit Administration's adoption of Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act in 1979. [sic] Section 504 generally made it illegal to exclude any individual, by reason of handicap, from any program receiving federal dollars. UMTA's regulations stated that all new buses purchased with federal money must include wheelchair lifts and aimed for 50 percent of peak-hour accessibility on regular bus routes. RTD standards strict [boldface] The Regional Transportation District in metropolitan Denver has adopted accessibility standards that are more stringent than required. Even after Section 504 regulations were softened in 1981, RTD's board chose to maintain its commitment to provide 50 percent peak-hour accessibility on all routes, and 100 percent off-peak accessibility. And RTD will soon become the first public transit system in the United States to introduce wheelchair lifts on its larger, regional commuter buses. Despite such advances, Blank will not be satisfied until disabled individuals throughout the United States can board and ride a bus whenever and wherever the able-bodied do the same. “We simply want APTA, as the association which speaks for the public transportation industry, to declare its intention to make the system accessible. We know it will take time. But isn't this the country that put a man on the moon?” - ADAPT (223)
MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way. - ADAPT (224)
THE HANDICAPPED COLORADAN Vol. 8, No. 4, Boulder, Colorado, November 1985 [This article continues in ADAPT 115 but the story is included here in its entirety for easier reading.] PHOTO on center-right of the page and shows several people in wheelchairs (including Larry Ruiz looking away on left, as you face the bus, and George Florum on right in black ADAPT T-shirt holding a coffee and a cigarette) in front of a large bus. One person stands in front of the bus holding a scarecrow-like effigy of a person in one hand and something else in the other. A person in a white shirt is seated in the driver's seat. Another person similarly dressed is standing next to him. Above them behind the windshield is a destination type sign reading “EASY.” Caption: DEMONSTRATORS BLOCKED BUSES in Long Beach during the fourth day of the Los Angeles demonstration. One protestor (center) holds up an effigy representing the American Public Transit Association. Police arrived later and made several arrests. Demonstrators said the Long Beach police treated them properly. [Headline] Access showdown in L.A. Leads to massive arrests In a scene reminiscent of the black civil rights marches of the 1960s, some 215 people in wheelchairs rolled down Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles on Sunday, Oct. 7, to protest the lack of accessible mainline public transit in the United States. ' Chanting "We will ride!" and carrying inflammatory placards, the single-file column snaked its way 1.7 miles from the MacArthur Park staging area to the Bonaventure Hotel where the American Public Transit Association (APTA) was holding its national convention. Although the demonstrators had been denied a parade permit, police made no attempt to halt the march and routed traffic around the procession. However, the hands-off attitude disappeared once the column of wheelchair militants reached the hotel. As hotel security personnel blocked the only wheelchair-accessible elevator that gave access to the main lobby, several of the demonstrators pulled themselves from their wheelchairs and threw their bodies in front of the escalators, vowing to prevent anyone else from entering or leaving the hotel. The disabled demonstrators shouted "Access now! Access now!" while police deliberated their next move. Finally, after an hour, the police moved in. Eight demonstrators, including one woman, were arrested for “refusing to leave the scene of a riot," according to a police spokesperson. But they didn't go without a fight. George Florom of Colorado Springs thrashed about so hard that it took three officers to subdue him. One of the officers claimed that Florom kicked and bit him, During the scuffle, police said one of the demonstrators grabbed an officer's gun. Florom was removed to a specially equipped police van. He was soon joined by Edith Harris of Hartford, Conn, a veteran of other APTA demonstrations, who had been arrested during the San Antonio APTA protest. Harris had tried several times during the day to get the police to arrest her, even to the point of throwing shredded ADAPT literature in the street and demanding that police arrest her. Police merely removed her motorized chair from the street and picked up the paper, But when Harris threw herself on an escalator, the police moved in and escorted her to a waiting police van. Police and demonstrators differed as to how well the department handled the arrests. "We look bad no matter what we do," Sgt. Bill Tiffany said. A police spokesperson said the department had medical personnel on hand and tried to provide for the special needs of those arrested. That wasn't the case, according to Wade Blank of Denver, one of the founders of the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), which helped organize the Los Angeles demonstration as it has similar protests in Denver (1983), Washington, D.C. (1984), and San Antonio, Texas (1985). "The police were real nice until we got to the Bonaventure," Blank said. “But it was a real bad situation at the hotel. The cops turned into real pigs. They wouldn't let us use the hotel restroom. Some of them laughed at a lot of disabilities of the demonstrators, and a few of them pulled their clubs and threatened us with them." Blank said he learned that the officers who pulled their clubs were later given reprimands. Lou Nau, chairman of the Disability Rights Committee of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), was also critical of how the police handled the arrests. Nau said that Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic community organizer for the Atlantis Community in Denver, was not allowed to use a bathroom for eight hours, causing hyperreflexia, while others who were arrested were not allowed to take necessary medications although they repeatedly explained the danger this might cause. Four men were handcuffed behind their backs and then left for up to five hours in their chairs in police vans, according to Nau. Of the eight arrested, Harris was released that same night and five of the men by the following afternoon. The other two men were not released until Tuesday morning. Some 53 disabled protestors maintained a night-long vigil outside the county jail. The police later issued this statement: “It must be stressed that the Los Angeles Police Department has repeatedly tried to meet with demonstration leaders in the attempt to provide legal alternatives to accomplish their objectives and avoid the distasteful necessity of arresting handicapped citizens." To that end, Jack Day, a board member of the Southern California Rapid Transit District (RTD flew to Denver earlier in the year to [print completely faded] in an attempt to talk the organization out of civil disobedience. Blank was one of those who met with Day. "We told him we wouldn't use civil disobedience if the (Southern California RTD) agreed to introduce and support a resolution at the APTA convention calling upon APTA to reverse its stand and back mandatory wheelchair lifts on buses," he said. Day said that was not possible. Meanwhile back in Los Angeles Day's other board members continued to discuss ways and means of handling the demonstrators. Ironically, Los Angeles — the city where demonstrators chose to make their point - is one of the most accessible in the country. California and Michigan are the only states that require all new public transit vehicles to be equipped with lifts. Usha Viswanathan, a spokesperson for the Southern California RTD, said that 1,891 of the district‘s 2,445 active buses were equipped with lifts and another 200 were being retrofitted. The lifts cost between $15,000 and $20,000 each. Within the next five years, the district intends to operate only lift-equipped buses, making it the first 100 percent accessible system in the country. In other parts of the country it's Up to the local transit provider to decide whether or not to offer accessible service. And that's the way it should bee, according Albert Engelken, APTA's deputy executive director. Geographical and climatic conditions have to be taken into consideration because lifts are difficult to operate in snow and on curved roads, Engelken said. In the late 1970s, the Carter administration's Department of Transportation mandated that all new buses be outfitted with wheelchair lifts. APTA, which acts as a lobbying and policy-making group for some 300 separate transit districts across the country, filed a lawsuit that eventually reversed that decision. Since then disabled groups have dogged APTA wherever it meets, insisting that the organization vote on a resolution calling for mandatory accessibility. That‘s why the demonstrators were in Southern California, Jim Parker of El Paso explained. Parker said ADAPT was very appreciative of the steps California was taking toward complete accessibility.” "This is a model city," he said. The demonstrators were in Los Angeles to embarrass APTA, not the local transit district, he said. That didn't stop the demonstrators from stopping buses, however. On Wednesday, Oct. 10, wheelchair demonstrators poured onto the streets of Long Beach, where they held several buses hostage. Protestors said they would release the buses if Laurance Jackson, general manager and president of Long Beach Transit and the newly elected president of APTA, would meet with them. A spokesperson for Jackson said that would be impossible, as Jackson had other commitments at the convention and the protestors had come unannounced. Before the day was done, police issued 33 misdemeanor citations for failure to disperse and arrested l6 protestors, all of whom were later released on their own recognizance. Blank said that the Long Beach police acted appropriately under the circumstances. Long Beach had been the scene of another confrontation earlier that same week. On Monday, 26 wheelchair demonstrators staged a roll-in at the office of U.S Rep.Glen Anderson (D-Long Beach), who is chairman of the House Transportation Committee. Anderson, who had been expected in his office that day, had been detained in Washington due to a heavy work load. The congressman later issued a statement pointing out that he had consistently voted to support accessible systems. Anderson blamed the Reagan administration, not Congress, for overturning a "requirement that the handicapped be given full accessibility to public transit." Most of the demonstrators agreed with that assessment. Blank and Parker compared APTA to the Klu Klux Klan and called upon its individual members either to fire its executive board, including executive vice president Jack Gilstrap, a longtime foe of mandatory accessibility, or to pull out and form a new national transit organization. A Gilstrap aide said he had no intention of resigning. Blank said Gilstrap and the rest of the APTA membership could expect to see them again when the organization holds its next national convention in Detroit in 1986. ADAPT plans similar tactics, since Michigan, like California, has already opted for total accessibility. "It's a question of civil rights," Blank said." And it's a national issue. Wherever they go, you can expect to find us." 3 photos filling the top three-quarters of the page. Photo 1: A man (George Florum) in a manual wheelchair wearing a black no-steps ADAPT T-shirt is loaded onto a lift of some type of vehicle by three beefy police officers Caption: GEORGE FLOROM OF of Colorado Springs is arrested for blocking buses in Long Beach. Photo 2: A dark shot of a man in a white T-shirt (Chris Hronis) being pulled upward by several sets of hands. Caption: CHRIS HONIS [sic], a California ADAPT member, is arrested at the Bonaventure Hotel. Photo 3: a couple of small groups of protesters in wheelchairs and standing, are in front of one bus and beside another, while police stand nearby. Caption: ACTIVISTS hold a bus captive in Long Beach. To the left of photo 3 is an ADAPT "we will ride" logo with the wheelchair access guy and an equal sign in the big wheel. - ADAPT (205)
[Headline] NAT HENTOFF:“No Wonder God Punished Her by Making Her Blind!” Village Voice, March 18, 1986, page unknown. PHOTO in center of page. Photo credit, DAVID STONE/MAINSTREAM: MAGAZINE OF THE ABLE-DISABLED: A group of police officers in dark short sleeved uniforms standing and looking at one another. On the floor at their feet, a man in white clothes (Chris Hronis) lies on his side arms behind his back, apparently handcuffed. Through the legs of the officers you can see someone else (Edith Harris) sitting on the floor also apparently handcuffed. At the edges of the frame you can see a couple of people's faces and at the bottom, the back of someone's head. Above the picture is a text box that reads: "I am tired of being closed away." Photo Caption reads: Disabled activists commit civil disobedience in Las Angeles to make public transit accessible: “We will ride." [Italicized] New vocabulary must be developed. Racism and sexism are words known to every schoolchild, but there is no word to describe bigotry against persons with disabilities. [End italicized] – Lisa Blumberg, Hartford Courant, June 24, I985 [Italicized]... it is absolutely essential to understand that the pain and "tragedy" of living with a disability in our culture, such as it is, derives primarily from the pain and humiliation of discrimination, oppression, and anti-disability attitudes, not from the disability itself. [End italicized] — Michelle Fine and Adrienne Asch, Carasa News, Committee for Abortion Rights and Against Sterilization Abuse, June/July 1984 [Italicized] Public transportation is a tax-supported system. The handicapped pay taxes. It's as simple as that. How would the average taxpayer feel if he was denied access to a facility he paid for? [End italicized] – Wade Blank, a founder of and organizer for ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation), Denver Post, October 6, 1985 In the spring of 1982, a woman in a wheelchair went into a clothing store in the Bronx and was told by the guard that he was required by store policy to turn away people with wheelchairs. Shs wrote a letter of complaint to the head of the chain and received an apology, along with a $50 gift certificate. Off she went to cash in the certificate, and guess what happened? That's right. A guard turned her away from the store. The woman sued; the store settled the case by giving her a check for $10,300. I had been about to write that a disabled lawyer had handled her case, but he — Kipp Elliott Watson—corrected me. “I am a lawyer with a disability," he said. In Jim Johnson's "Shop 'Talk" column in the February 22, 1986, Editor & Publisher, there is a guide for copy editors and reporters concerning accuracy of language in stories about those with disabilities. It was put together by more than 50 national disability organizations. One illustration: “Perhaps the most offensive term to disabled people is ‘wheelchair-bound' or ‘confined to a wheelchair.’ Disabled people don't sleep in their wheelchairs, they sleep in bed. Call them 'wheelchair users.'" Also, "labeling of groups should be avoided. Say ‘people who are deaf' or 'people with arthritis’ rather than ‘the deaf' or ‘the arthritic.’ . . . One of the problems with eliminating insensitive terms is the, lack of a clear policy that reporters and editors can follow. A reporter cannot change a paper's policy by himself. The first time a reporter writes 'person who is arthritic,’ a copy editor is sure to change it to ‘an arthritic’ to save words.” And I would particularly recommend the next correction to the vast majority of the reporters and editorial writers who have covered Baby Doe cases: “Afflicted [unintelligible] a negative term that suggests hopelessness. Use disabled. Also to be avoided are deformed and invalid." The guide is especially useful because more and more of those with disabilities are going to be making news-in–lawsuits, individual acts of resistance against discrimination, and in collective demonstrations. For instance, in Los Angeles last October, during a nonviolent direct-action protest against the American Public Transit Association (which is resisting making all its buses accessible to the handicapped), there was this report by George Stein in the October 7 Los Angeles-Times: “During the procession, 131 wheelchairs, stretching more than a block, carried people with disabilities ranging from spina bifida, cerebral palsy and muscular dystrophy to snapped spinal cords, congenital defects and post-polio paralysis. “Many had the withered limbs and lack of body control that the more fortunate usually try not to stare at. “But not Sunday. Motorists slowed to watch the sight. Some honked in support. One of the demonstrators was Bob Kafka, a spokesman for ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit) "This is beautiful,” Kafka said as he wheeled along “I am tired of being closed away." Carolyn Earl, who uses a wheelchair, tried to make a reservation at the Harrison Hotel in Oakland, California. The clerk wouldn't take an advance deposit. Suppose there's a fire, he said. The hotel would be liable. But call back, he said. She did. Ain't that a shame, there are no rooms with baths, and she'd asked for a room with a bath. Okay, the woman said, I’ll take a room without a bath. The clerk said that for her, there were no rooms, period. Just like it used to be with blacks and Jews. It happens, however, that according to Section 54.1 of California's Civil Code, it is as unlawful to discriminate in public accommodations against people with disabilities as it is to exclude racial and ethnic minorities. Carolyn Earl went to court. In December 1984, the hotel agreed to pay her damages and to sign an agreement pledging never again to refuse lodging to anyone who is disabled. In Louisville last fall, Steve and Nadine Jacobson, who are blind, were on trial. The charge: disorderly conduct. On July 7, they had been sitting in exit-row seats on United Airlines Flight 869 to Minneapolis, where they live. Airline personnel and security employees from Standford airport ordered the Jacobsons to get out of those seats. In the event of an emergency, the Jacobsons were told, they, being blind, could jeopardize their own safety and that of others. The rationale for the policy, it came out at the trial, was a “test” some time back during which – now get this – sighted people were blindfolded two hours before a mock evacuation and it turned out that these “blind” people had trouble opening emergency exit doors as well as dealing with other evacuation procedures. On the basis of a test that used fake blind people to find out how real blind people might act, the Federal Aviation Administration—long known for its stunning brilliance—issued an advisory circular suggesting to airlines that they keep blind folks out of those emergency exit rows. As they were trying to get the Jacobsons to move, United Airlines personnel kept insisting that a "Federal regulation" said they had to get out of those seats. The Jacobsons, however, had just come from a convention at which that very advisory circular had been discussed. They knew there was no rule. And so they sat. And sat. Irritated passengers offered to trade seats with them. Another yelled that the Jacobsons were holding everybody else up. "How can you be so selfish?" And another, speaking from the heart, pointed to Nadine Jacobson, and said to a neighbor: “No wonder God punished her by making her blind!" Eventually, the Jacobsons were removed from the plane and charged with disorderly conduct—not with violating the alleged “Federal regulation." At the trial, Steve Jacobson told the jury: “All through my life, there were things I was told I couldn't do because I was blind. In college, they said I couldn't take math." (Mr. Jacobson is a computer analyst for 3M.) He went on to say that he kept ignoring all the advice about all the things he couldn't do because he was blind. “I just had to go on," he said. Where he works, he was told not to use the escalator. He could get hurt. He uses the escalator. That day at the airport, “To move from my seat would reinforce all that I've worked not to have happen. To move would say to the other people on the plane that I am less capable than any sighted person to open that emergency door. And that isn't. the case. It just isn't.” As for Nadine Jacobson: “I was scared. I had never been arrested before. I felt really bad that people were angry and upset, and that the plane was being delayed." But still she wouldn't move. “Many times people make assumptions about what we [blind people] can do and can't do. I knew that if I moved from that seat, everyone would think that anyone else was more competent than me. It's an issue of self-respect. I'm a citizen of this country, and a blind person, and I feel I have a right to travel in this country, and if I get assigned a seat, I have a right to sit there." Would the jury have been convinced solely by what the Jacobsons said? I don't know. But I expect they listened with much interest to testimony by Mark D. Warriner of Frontier Airlines, who said his company had stopped discriminating against blind people as a result of a March 1985 evacuation drill by World Airways, which showed that blind people—real blind people—got out during an emergency faster than sighted passengers. The Jacobsons were acquitted. The verdict, said Nadine Jacobson, was “a step forward for blind people all over the country." Footnote: None of the police officers or the security personnel involved in arresting the Jacobsons would give them their names. Without the names, the Jacobsons could never identify them, ho-ho. But an attorney sitting in front of the Jacobsons on the plane handed them a piece of paper with one of the names, and that led to others being revealed. The stories about the Jacobsona and the woman trying to get a hotel room originally appeared in The Disability Rag in somewhat different form. There is nothing like that paper in the whole country. It covers the whole disability rights spectrum—from what‘s happening in the courts to the directions being taken by groups of nonviolent resisters. It publishes memoirs, jeremiads, parodies, and material for which there is no category. It is the liveliest publication I know. It has grace and beauty and fury. It costs $9 a year, from The Disability Rag, Box 145, Louisville, Kentucky 40201. You have a choice of print, cassette tape, or large-print edition. We shall be getting back to public transit, along with education, jobs, and stereotypes of people with disabilities in movies and television as well as in print. The importance of access to buses and other forms of transit has been distilled by Wade Blank of ADAPT: “Jobs and education don't mean much if you can't get a bus to take you there. Accessibility to public transportation—moving from one place to another—should be a right, not just a consumer service." Recently, Wade Blank was telling me how, because of ADAPT and the pressure it keeps putting on, 78 per cent of the buses in Denver, where ADAPT is based, are now accessible. Soon, with 200 new buses on order, all of them with lifts, people with disabilities will be able to ride 90 per cent of the Denver buses. Already, Blank said, this access means a lot. “I know a man with cerebral palsy," Blank continued. “He has no use of his legs or arms. He can't speak. But now, with the buses accessible, he can ride around and see the sights and come to our offices. He can move where and when he wants to in the Denver community." He's no longer closed away. In Dallas, Kataryn Thomas, 57, was arrested last month during an ADAPT demonstration against the recalcitrant Dallas Area Rapid Transit Authority. She was born with spina bifida, uses a wheelchair, has worked as a receptionist, and when she was busted, a bright orange flag connected to the back of her chair fluttered in the breeze. The words on it were: “Free Spirit." “l don't have to climb any mountains," Kataryn Thomas told the Dallas Times Herald. “I just want to ride the public transit.” - ADAPT (22)
Charismatic Figure Absent - The Denver Post - Friday, August 2, 1974 PHOTO Denver Post photo by Bill Peters: Two thin young men with longish hair wearing sleeveless shirts sit facing a desk in front of them. On the other side, an older man with glasses in shirt sleeves and a tie (Gov. Vanderhoof) faces the two and the camera. One of the guys in wheelchairs has a poster-sign on the back saying "The handicapped are people too! Support [unreadable] RALLY!!! [unreadable]. Caption reads: Gov. John Vanderhoof talks with Gary Van Lake and Vic Stifel. The two men were in group of handicapped persons who visited the governor Thursday. [Headline] Wheel-Chair Group Gets Capitol Sympathy by Rykken Johnson A group of handicapped persons in wheel chairs looking for a “charismatic” figure to champion their cause for better care didn't find one in the governor’s office Thursday. The group, called The Organization of Disabled Adults and Youth (TODAY), met with a shirtsleeved Gov. John Vanderhoof for about 40 minutes to discuss problems faced by handicapped individuals and ways to reduce the difficulties. TODAY asked Vanderhoof for his support in channeling more state funds to improve staff and facilities at nursing homes and institutions for physically, mentally and emotionally handicapped persons. [Subheading] SYMPATHETIC EAR The governor listened solemnly, said he sympathized, reported that the state has been making strides for handicapped persons and will continue to do so, thanked the group for coming and told its members to drive carefully on the way home. None of the wheel-chair visitors as much as smiled at the sendoff from the governor's office. Outside, a couple of them replied with a flat no to a question if they thought they had found a leader for their cause. The meeting with Vanderhoof concluded a two-day rally by about two dozen individuals in wheel chairs from Heritage House and other nursing homes. The rally took place in front of Services, 1575 Sherman St., and the State Capitol. The organization, through seven members who met with Vanderhoof, didn't help its efforts by tying its plea to the employees’ strike at the Colorado State Hospital in Pueblo. Vanderhoof and other state officials have been battling with the strikers and their union for more than a week over pay for the state hospital staff. Although the state gained a court injunction on grounds the strike is illegal, some hospital employees Friday were still observing the walkout. TODAY spokesman Vic Stiefel, 29, told Vanderhoof that TODAY backs the strikers because the organization feels staffing is inadequate and pay too low at state institutions and that state reimbursement through state-administered Medicaid is too skimpy for private nursing homes like Heritage House to be effective. But the governor couldn't make the connection between pay and reimbursements, saying the dispute in Pueblo is a budgetary consideration and the nursing home difficulty a welfare consideration. Furthermore, Vanderhoof said, the state has made a “tremendous movement” to overcome architectural barriers against disabled persons and also is trying to influence the federal government to loosen its guidelines on Medicaid. The governor continued that under his program to restructure state government he is trying to get the state to deal more effectively with problems of the handicapped. [Subheading] 'NOT FAR ENOUGH’ Vanderhoof said the state "has come a long way over the last 8-10 years, but we haven't come far enough or fast enough". He said he would "pledge himself to problems of the handicapped. “We are moving in the proper direction but it's not going to happen overnight", he added. Later, in the governor‘s office, Wade Blank, a Heritage House employee who accompanied the disabled individuals said TODAY members were enthusiastic about chances that Vanderhoof will support “a good medical program." Blank disagreed that pay at institutions and reimbursements at nursing homes aren't connected, as Vanderhoof contended. "No matter what he says,” Wade said, “the state sets the reimbursement rate for the money a home gets.” He said one of the major problems at homes is that staff pay is low, that it doesn't go up very fast and that aides "burn out” in a few months and leave. - ADAPT (23)
[Headline] Sympathy rejected PHOTO. UPI photo by Joe Marquette: Two people in wheelchairs and a man with long blonde hair (Wade Blank?) sit in front of a desk. Behind the desk, which encircles him in a corner, sits a man with glasses in shirtsleeves and a tie (Gov. Vanderhoof). Behind him are 3 large flags, and on the side of his desk another man squats doing something with equipment. The two people in wheelchairs have handwritten poster-signs on their backs; one [Carolyn Finnell?] reads "Support us in our freedom" with the wheelchair symbol drawn in the center, the other reads "The handicapped are people too! Support us [unreadable] Rally!!!" In the foreground is a rug with symbols of Colorado - a pick and a hammer crossed, three snow capped mountains, an eye in a triangle, and the motto NIL SINE NUMINE [nothing without the power]. Caption reads: Gov. John Vanderhoof Thursday met with young handicapped patients from Heritage House nursing home who want higher Medicaid payments. He expressed sympathy but offered no concrete aid. “I thank God I'm not where you are," Vanderhoof said. Disappointed youths said they seek a "charismatic" leader, will look elsewhere. - ADAPT (20)
Denver Post, 1975 PHOTO. Denver Post photos by Ernie Leyba: A slim woman and man in a manual wheelchair are surrounded by laundry they are folding and stacking. They look over their shoulders as the man shakes hands with a man in a dark suit (Governor Lamm) who is talking with another standing man with longish blonde hair (Wade Blank). Caption reads: Gov. Dick Lamm, left,and Director Wade Blank visit laundry. Handicapped "hot line" has been set up in laundry, which is also office. [Headline] Lamm Tours Community of Handicaps By Patrick A. McGuire Denver Post Staff Writer Fourteen handicapped persons who once lived in nursing homes, but now enjoy a high degree of independence in their own community, welcomed Gov. Dick Lamm to their homes Tuesday for a special tour. Their home, the Atlantis Community, occupies seven apartments and a laundry room in a Denver Housing project at W. 11th and Federal Boulevard. With federal and state funds, the 14 residents and 12 staff aides have remodeled the apartments so that wheel chairs move freely through hallways and down ramps. With a state grant they have set up a handicapped “hot line” in the laundry room that doubles as an office. As many as 70 times daily, handicapped persons across the city and state call seeking information on services. Lamm encouraged Atlantis to seek state funds for the project through the Colorado Social Services Department. He went to the community Tuesday, ostensibly to see how state money was being used, but admitted in an interview that he had other reasons. “During my campaign," he said, “that whole walk across the state was very intense. It was a gimmick, too, I’ll be the first to admit that. “But I stayed at some places and saw some people like these. I was trying to sensitize myself. You know, it’s the easiest thing in the world to forget people like these.” He said he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget them. Lamm went from apartment to apartment with Wade Blank, Atlantis executive director, inspecting the homes and shaking hands with the delighted residents. For most of their lives, the residents have lived in nursing homes, depending on them for medical care and a social life. Barry Rosenberg, a member of the Atlantis board of directors, told Lamm, “So many handicapped are born with a sense of guilt, because they’re different. We’re trying to turn them around and give them some hope. Atlantis residents Blank said, draw on existing city services for medical care and social services.He estimated that it costs $225 a month less, per person, to live at Atlantis than in a nursing home. The city is planning to lower the curbing along the Atlantis boundary on Federal Boulevard, so the wheel-chaired residents easily can cross the street to stores and restaurants. Lamm praised the Atlantis staff as “dedicated people who are trying to make sure a few other fine human beings are cared for." - ADAPT (34)
The Sunday Denver Post - August 29, 1976 [This article in continued in ADAPT 37, but the entire text is included here for easier reading] [Headline] Denver and the West Denver Post Photos by Ernie Leyba, Photo 1 (top left): Two hands gently hold a key. Photo 2 (on right): A young woman (Jeannie Joyce) in a manual wheelchair sits next to a floor lamp, and beside her kneels an older woman (Mary Joyce). Jeannie is looking up and her mother is looking forward to the right. Both are absolutely beaming. Captions (in middle) read: A key, left to a new apartment is a thing of joy to Jeannie Joyce, in wheel chair being hugged, at right, by her mother, Mrs. Mary Joyce, after Miss Joyce moved into her new apartment. [Subheading] Apartment Key Fulfills Dream for Five Atlantis Residents by Fred Gillies “My key!" Jeannie Joyce cried out exultantly, cupping a door key almost prayerfully in her hands and moving in her wheelchair room to room in the small apartment in south Denver. Jeannie's eyes sparkled and at times misted as she turned the wheelchair in one direction and then another. "It‘s my house," murmured Jeannie, 25, who has been confined to a wheelchair most of her life by a form of muscular dystrophy. Jeannie and four other residents of the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver are taking a major step. They are moving from Atlantis into their own apartments as part of a pilot project that may become a model for the state. The move is supported by state officials who see it as an exciting extension of the Atlantis goal - making disabled persons more independent and providing a stimulating atmosphere in which they can realize their full potential. To Jeannie and the four other Atlantis residents, this move to their own apartment is “a dream come true." Jeannie shouted with joy last week when she saw her apartment - the first she has ever had. "I love it!" she said "it fits me because it's a little place and I'm a little person." But the road to this apartment was a long one. After living at home for her first 21 years, Jeannie entered a nursing home where she remained for more than three years. At the nursing home there was no particular program for Jeannie. Her only work was at a sheltered workshop where she counted fishhooks and placed them in packages and performed other simple and undemanding tasks. Slightly more than a year ago, Jeannie was among eight disabled persons who moved from Denver area nursing homes and became charter residents at the Atlantis Community, 2965 W. 11th Ave. At Atlantis, Jeannie began working as an operator on the telephone hot line which helps Atlantis residents and other disabled persons in metropolitan Denver find the services they need. In time, Jeannie was named supervisor of the hotline. Newly established in her own apartment, Jeannie will continue to work on the hot line at Atlantis. This is the way she always wanted it - her own home, a meaningful job and a wide-open future. But Atlantis officials have stressed that it wouldn't have been possible for Jeannie and the other four Atlantis residents to go out on their own without state support for a proposal advanced by Atlantis. That proposal was presented in June to Henry A. Foley, director of the Colorado Social Services Department. Foley's response was enthusiastic according to Wade Blank and Glen Kopp, codirectors at Atlantis. And as a result, Foley set up a pilot project which will go until the end of 1977. Simply stated, the project involves Atlantis' creation of an expanded staff of attendants to provide necessary services to the disabled in their apartments and homes as well as at Atlantis. And the state Medicaid fund will pick up the difference between government cost for attendant services and the amount of funds that actually are expended to provide the disabled with necessary care as certified by a physician. Blank explained that the government pays an average of $575 monthly for a severely disabled young adult living in a nursing home. If the disabled person moves into his own apartment he receives $186?[text is blurry] monthly from various governmental sources to pay for his rent, food, telephone and personal needs. And a county social services department may provide an additional $40 to $217 monthly to the disabled person for attendant services. But quite often, Blank said, even the maximum of $217 monthly doesn't cover the attendant services needed. And qualified attendants may not always be available, he noted. The cooperative program between Atlantis and the state might remedy those shortcomings and might cut government expenditures for the disabled substantially, Blank said. If the program is successful, Blank said, it could be expanded statewide for the disabled. Eventually, he added, the program might be extended to the state's elderly persons to keep them in their own homes and apartments, rather than placing them in a facility outside the home. Equally elated over the program is Mary Joyce, who is Jeannie's mother. Mrs. Joyce and her husband, Joseph, came to Denver last week from their home in Scarborough, Maine and were with Jeannie when she first viewed her apartment. “It's a pretty wonderful step" Mrs. Joyce said as she watched her daughter move in her wheelchair through the apartment. "We can't believe the strides she's made in the last two years with her determination to live on her own and take care of herself." To two other Atlantis residents, George Roberts and Don Clubb, the move to their own apartment is "a pretty big change." Born with cerebral palsy, George, now 28, was left as an infant at the door of an adoption agency in southern Colorado. George then was placed in a state home and training school where he remained for 21 years - a period he describes as "all my life." He also spent more than four years in a nursing home before being accepted at Atlantis in June 1975. Don, who soon will be 20, lost both legs as the result of a slide down a mountainside when he was six years old. For about 10 years, Don was in state home and training schools. And for the past five years, he has been in a nursing home. He, too, is confined to a wheelchair. Last week, as George and Don viewed the apartment they will share in north Denver, they seemed to invest the nearly empty rooms with an almost magical air. "It's wonderful," George said over and over. Carefully, he moved his wheelchair up to the electric stove and inspected the oven. In the bedroom, he was jubilant as he examined the heating and air-conditioning controls. And almost reverently, he opened and closed the sliding doors of a large bedroom closed. Don spoke quietly but with no less enthusiasm. "It's a very nice place - the first place of my own," he said. He smiled in the direction of the outdoor pool and said he swam very well and would teach George. Also preparing to move into an apartment they will share in south Denver are two other Atlantis residents, Carolyn Finnell, 33 and Nancy Anderson, 31. When she was 21, Nancy underwent surgery for removal of a brain tumor. For the next nine years, Nancy just sat in Denver area nursing homes unable to talk or walk, her body partially paralyzed. At that time, doctors said Nancy would be confined to nursing homes for the rest of her life and would never walk again. But since moving to Atlantis last summer, Nancy has been striving diligently in therapy sessions at Denver General Hospital. Working through the pain and the fatigue, she has learned to walk for up to 300 yards with the aid of a walker. And she has expanded her vocabulary to almost 10 words and is using a word machine in the new process of learning others. For Carolyn Finnell, who was born with cerebral palsy, there has been no easy or direct road to independent living. After finishing the ninth grade, Carolyn wasn't particularly encouraged to continue. But she was convinced and convinced others, that she was capable of further education. She obtained her GED, or general equivalency diploma, which is equivalent to a high school diploma. And she earned a degree in journalism at Metropolitan State College. But then there were the leaden days - four years in nursing homes "which didn't work out." Afterward, Carolyn came to Atlantis and her hope was reborn. Now, Carolyn is working in the Atlantis planning office and preparing plans for the education of the disabled. In her quarters at Atlantis last week, Carolyn said it was painful to leave so many behind when she left the nursing home. "But as we move out of Atlantis, it will make it possible for others to move in - and they never thought that was possible," she added. Looking to the future, Carolyn said she would like to return to school to obtain training so that she can tutor disabled persons who have never had an education. "There's a whole generation of disabled people who have been denied an education," she said. Carolyn stressed that she wasn't going to "wage a war against nursing homes I'm willing to live and let live." But she obviously was emotionally affected as she said, "I never realized until I got out of a nursing home that for a young person, it's a living death: You really have nothing to live for...nothing to do but just sit. Many disabled persons, Carolyn noted, attend Opportunity School and Boettcher School in Denver. "But I know for myself," she said, "I didn't have any faith in my ability to work." "But I've been involved in Atlantis planning," she said as a smile swept across her face and she threw out her arms, embracing the air. "I've gained faith in my ability and I'm started to get ambitious." Her next words came slowly, with triumphal emphasis: "I....just....feel....alive!" PHOTO: A woman (Carolyn Finnell) sits in her wheelchair. She is turned sideways, relaxed, facing the camera. Her arm is slung over the backrest, and she is beaming. - ADAPT (36)
This is the one side of a brochure called Ramp by Ramp. The other side is in ADAPT 35 In the center of the page on this side is a hand drawn map of downtown Denver, not to scale and only including the highlights listed here. Below are the descriptions of the highlighted places: [Headline] "Mapping the Denver Disability Movement's History" [Subheading] McDonald's Restaurant E. Colfax & Pennsylvania St. This restaurant was built in 1985. It replaces an earlier inaccessible McDonald's, which was the first to be blocked by Atlantis activists in 1984. The furniture was bolted to the floor, restricting access for customers with disabilities. Wheelchair users were referred to the drive-up window. After blockades at McDonald's in seven cities, and many arrests for civil disobedience, restaurant officials agreed to develop access requirements so that all travelers could be assured of a meal and restroom. McDonald's also agreed to use disabled actors in their ads, a trend since adopted by many companies. [Subheading] "Groundbreaking" Curb Cuts E. Colfax & Colorado Blvd. At this site in 1980, Atlantis protesters using wheelchairs swung sledgehammers to make way for needed curb ramps. City officials had refused to start planning for curb cuts, stating that it would be impossible to ramp all 44,000 curbs in Denver. Publicity from the sledgehammer action convinced officials to establish a curb cut program, and all Denver curbs are expected to be accessible by the year 1996. [Subheading] Radisson Hotel 16th St. Mall/Tremont Pl. This was the site of the first demonstration by ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit) in October 1983. The nation's transit officials were meeting at the hotel when disabled protesters blocked every entrance. Then Secretary of Transportation Elizabeth Dole, the keynote speaker, was forced to sneak in through a tunnel. During the next seven years, ADAPT continued to protest the policy of “local option," which allowed cities to offer separate, very limited van services, rather than to equip regular buses with lifts. ADAPT members disrupted meetings, blocked inaccessible buses, and committed other acts of civil disobedience for their cause; hundreds were arrested. These actions, and the national media exposure they gained, finally prompted the federal government to require lifts on all new buses. [Subheading] Air Force Academy Chapel Colorado Springs This most-visited tourist attraction on Colorado's front range became accessible only after Atlantis activists staged a “crawl-in" up the steps in 1986. The sight of hundreds of people trying to step over protesters created pressure to force the installation of an elevator in this tax-supported academy. This brochure is dedicated to the memory of Wade and Lincoln Blank.