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Leathaineach abhaile / Albums 117
Creation date / 2013 / Week 28 / Dé Céadaoin
ADAPT (88)
Rocky Mountain News 7/6/78 [This story continues in ADAPT 91 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] NEWS Photo by Dick Davis: A city bus is parked at an angle to the street across 2 or 3 lanes. In front, a small woman in a power chair and dark sunglasses, sits holding a very large sign that reads "Taxation without Transportation" and has a wheelchair symbol of access. Two other people in wheelchairs are backed up to the side of the bus and a small group of other people in wheelchairs are in the street by the blockers. Mel Conrardy is in the wheelchair closest to the camera. Caption reads: A group of handicapped persons "seized" two RTD buses Wednesday, protesting what they called the firm's insensitivity to handicapped. [Headline] Buses seized, police decline to make arrests [Subheading] DISABLED SNARL TRAFFIC IN PROTEST By GARY DELSOHN News Staff Protesting what they said was the Regional Transportation District's insensitivity to Denver's handicapped, about 25 disabled persons "seized" two buses during Wednesday morning's downtown rush hour, snarling traffic and daring police to make arrests. While supporters helped them board two eastbound buses on Colfax Avenue at Broadway, several persons in wheelchairs surrounded the crowded vehicles. Early morning commuters had to walk two blocks to catch other buses while RTD drivers radioed their headquarters for assistance. Shortly after the 8:30 takeover, police arrived, admitting they weren't sure what to do. As commanders came to assist, police decided not to arrest any handicapped protesters because, as one sergeant said, “We don't want to be the fall guys on this.“ Police said they didn't want to risk injuring any of the severely disabled persons by loading them into police vans, nor did they wish to be pictured in television newscasts or newspapers arresting persons in wheelchairs. TWO PERSONS WERE arrested for refusing to obey police orders, but they were local counselors - not in wheelchairs - who work with many of Denver's approximately 8,000 handicapped. John Simpson, RTD executive director, arrived at the scene about 10 a.m. and talked with the demonstrators, asking them to leave the street and explain their grievances away from traffic. The protesters refused to move, saying Simpson and RTD have been meeting with the handicapped for years and done little to solve their transportation problems. "Handicapped people have a right to ride the bus just like everyone else," said Lin Chism, a disabled University of Colorado at Denver student studying rehabilitation counseling. “Today is the first of many times we will have to do this to get RTD to come to some agreement with us.“ Calling themselves the Colorado Coalition of Disabled Citizens, the protesters, organized and led by Denver's privately owned Atlantis Community for the handicapped, said the demonstration was a response to last week's federal court ruling that RTD was not violating the constitutional rights of the city's handicapped by not providing them access to RTD buses. ATLANTIS AND OTHER groups representing the handicapped and elderly last year sued RTD to require installation on all new buses of devices providing access to persons in wheelchairs. Wade Blank, director of Atlantis, which helps handicapped persons adjust to non-institutional life, said demonstrators hoped to get the attention of U.S. District Court Judge Richard P. Matsch, who made last week's ruling, and "others in the judicial system so they know what we‘re up against. “Like Martin Luther King. we have tried to go through the system," Blank said. "Now, like Dr. King, we must practice civil disobedience until the judges change their minds or Congress makes new laws." A clerk for Judge Matsch said, “The judge does not respond to reporters‘ questions and makes no comment on a ruling he has made." Blank said Atlantis lawyers will appeal Matsch's decision. He said the group also plans additional disruptive protests. “These people have no place else to go," he said, adding that they would not even be able to attend meetings on the subject proposed by Simpson because they could not find transportation. Simpson, talking with protesters, police and reporters throughout the morning, said RTD is trying to help disabled persons get around town and is one of the most progressive agencies in the nation in that area. RTD HAS I2 BUSES equipped with hydraulic lifts and locking safety clamps for persons in wheelchairs. Simpson said. Transporting several hundred persons to and from work and school daily, the "special service", buses appear to be the best way to move handicapped persons, he said. Equipping other buses with elevator lifts wouldn't be feasible, according to Simpson, because many handicapped persons can't get to bus stops located throughout town. Simpson pleaded with the demonstrators to move and let the two stalled buses continue down Colfax Avenue, even ordering one of the special buses into the area to handle the crowd. He also took reporters through the bus, demonstrating its features. But the protesters refused to move, saying their problem wasn't one of immediate transportation but rather a long-term dilemma exacerbated by the fact that only nine of the 12 special buses are in use. The other three, they said, are in storage at RTD garages. Simpson said RTD will have another 28 buses designed to carry handicapped persons in operation by September but their use has been delayed by mechanical problems. POLICE COMMANDERS repeatedly tried to mediate an immediate solution to the the traffic jam created by the protesters, but demonstrators said they would not leave unless Simpson gave them a written promise that all RTD buses would be made accessible to the handicapped. Simpson, declining this offer, said he would meet "with anyone, any time" on the issue. "We have been sensitive," Simpson said. "But some of these problems Congress will have to address." Demonstrators also expressed concern that the waiting list to get on the special buses is 1,000 persons long and the only alternative for persons without friends or relatives to drive them around is a private cab service that charges about $16 per round trip. Many city and state officials were on the scene, watching and talking to police and demonstrators. Mary Krane, a supervisor in the city's social services department, said she quit RTD advisory committee on the handicapped and elderly last year in frustration. "I resigned because it was so hard to get anything done, " she said. "We messed around with a few things but nothing really happened. No one has been willing to make the capital investment necessary to make buses accessible to the handicapped." JEROME SPRIGS, A member of the Governor's Council on the Handicapped, said disabled persons "know they're getting the run-around from the RTD because many of these special buses are being used in rural areas." Lisa Wheeler, 20, an Atlantis counselor, and Bill Roem, who runs a Lakewood home for the physically handicapped, were arrested about 11 am after they ignored a police order to leave the street. "Police are doing their jobs, " Roem said from inside a squad car. "But there has to be some awareness of the problem." Ms. Wheeler and Roem were book at police headquarters and released on $100 bond. Police blocked traffic on Colfax Avenue from Delaware on the west to Lincoln on the east. Traffic during the evening rush hour didn't seem to move any slower than usual, as protesters said they probably would continue their vigil throughout the night.
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.
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History and Mission Independent Living for People with Disabilities [This brochure continues in ADAPT 33, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by Tom Olin (bottom right): A man (George Roberts) in wheelchair raises the power fist with his right hand. He is carrying a sign that reads "Nursing Homes = Jail." Behind him a group of other wheelchair protesters are lining up. Atlantis was founded in 1975, the second “Independent Living Center” in the country after Berkeley. A group of young disabled adults and six concerned staff from a Denver nursing home concluded that no amount of outings to concerts or bingo games could normalize life for these young people. The real solution was to move into the community, in apartments within the city’s neighborhoods, to create self-determined lifestyles where the disabled clients choose their own food, direct their own care, and determine their own priorities. This was a revolutionary concept in 1975, but the people of Atlantis were able to convince the State Legislature to fund personal care assistance outside an institutional setting for the very first time. In the more than fifteen years since its founding, the agency has been able to assist over 400 disabled adults in moving from sheltered settings and maintaining independent lives. The Atlantis Community staff specializes in assistance for very severely, multiply-disabled people, carrying out our belief that any disabled person can live outside an institution, if s/he is willing to accept the risks and inconveniences in order to enjoy self-determination and liberty. To that end, the staff and clients are experts in helping with everything from finding an apartment to applying for benefits, from grocery shopping to weddings, from cooking training to camping trips. The assistance with daily living activities and the basic skills training and reinforcement offered are complemented by the trained and state-certified staff of home health aides and their supervisors who visit the clients at home as often as needed — usually several times a day. The people of Atlantis also offer other independent living services to people throughout the nation — ranging from information and referral services to assertiveness training and technical assistance. The city of Denver and the Atlantis Community have become a mecca for disabled people seeking an accessible environment and comprehensive services. PHOTO by Tom Olin (top left corner): 4 people in wheelchairs (left to right, Joe Carle, Diane Coleman, Bob Kafka and Mark Johnson) lead a march. Everyone is dressed in revolutionary war garb -- wigs, three cornered hats, jackets with braid on them. Over their heads is a large flag, the ADAPT flag. PHOTO (bottom right): An older man (Mel Conrardy) in a white jacket and pants, sits in a wheelchair on a lift at the front door of a bus. To his right on the side of the bus door it says RTD Welcome Aboard. Mel looks relaxed and is smiling.
ADAPT (45)
Rocky Mountain News Mon., March 22, 1976, Denver, Colo. Banner Headline for story. PHOTO on left of headline: Head and shoulders shot of a young man (Michael Smith) with dark hair, pulled back in ponytail, dark beard and moustache. His head is tilted slightly to one side and he is smiling a bit. Caption reads: Michael Smith. He had a dream; He prayed that He would walk again someday. But someday never came. [Headline] Late poet a plaintiff in nursing home case Page 5 [Banner headline in ADAPT 44. Story starts here in ADAPT 45 and continues in ADAPT 46, but the entire text is included here for ease of reading.] Late poet was plaintiff in nursing home lawsuit By Jonathan Dedmon, News Staff Michael Smith was a poet. A victim of muscular dystrophy, Michael wasn't able to hold a pen, however. Weighing less than 100 pounds, one of the few physical tasks he was able to perform was to turn the pages of the many books he read. He would keep stanzas of poetry stored in his head and wait for friends or staff at the Heritage House Nursing Home in Lakewood where he lived to have free time so he could dictate his verse. A former aide remembers when she would be busy caring for patients and Mike would say, "Got to write." "We'd say, ‘Sorry, Mike‘ Don‘t have time.‘ A lot of his poetry was lost." In addition to being a poet, Mike also was an idealist. Because of what friends say was that idealism, in spite of the fact Mike died in October at the age of 21, he lives on not only in a published book of his poems but also in a giant legal battle in U.S. District Court. THE BATTLE COULD have a large impact on the care of handicapped patients in nursing homes throughout the country since it attacks the entire method of delivering health care. The suit, in which Mike was an original plaintiff, charges nursing home patients routinely are being denied their rights and even fundamental medical care, contrary to the wishes of Congress in its Medicaid law. U.S. Judge Richard Matsch currently is considering how much jurisdiction the federal court has in the case. But already a number of patients and nursing home employees have come forward with a series of affidavits which are a litany of patient abuse. The charges are leveled primarily against the former Heritage House Nursing Center in Lakewood, which since has been sold and is operating under new management and a new name. The suit’s allegations range from patients not having the colostomy bags changed to failure of the staff to provide any rehabilitation efforts. THE NURSING HOME attorney and a part owner deny the charges which are contained in a half dozen affidavits filed with the court. Pam Malpass worked as an aide from August 1974 to February of last year. Here are parts of her affidavit: “People were punished sometimes by having their wheelchairs turned off, cut their mobility (sic). Wheelchairs at Heritage House were constantly in disrepair and falling apart leading to weekly crises. Paul Brae, a Heritage House resident, fell out of his chair because it was falling apart and crawled under his bed and said he was (sic) [not] going to come out until he got a new wheelchair [cut off] we procured for him with some difficulty. Bowel programs for a number of residents weren't maintained properly resulting in infections. Colostomies and catheters weren't cleaned properly or regularly also resulting in infections for a number of patients. I also often observed that colostomy bags and catheters improperly were connected to the people that needed them with the result that they leaked and backed up." Michael Ray, an orderly from May 1974 to January of last year, said in his affidavit that on at least a dozen occasions, he made marks with a felt-tipped pen on patients’ dressings on open bed sores to make sure they were being changed twice a day as they should have been. “Each time when I looked, a day later, sometimes longer, the dressings I had put on with the markings were still there. The unclean sores lead to more serious complications and infections. During the six months I was working at Heritage House I never saw a doctor." FAILURE TO MAINTAIN a bowel program can lead to bowel poisoning and even to surgery. Mark Biles was impacted for three weeks while I was there necessitating an elaborate program of oral laxatives, suppositories and enemas to give him relief. The owners and the administrators always met suggestions or requests from the staff on behalf of patients residing there with the remark that they cost too much or if you don't like it why don't you get the hell out. “The only time that Heritage House was concemed about the cleanliness of the home was when the state inspection team announced it would appear.” ACCORDING TO JOHN Holland, who heads a team of Legal Aid attorneys working on the case, “We're saying that when Congress established Medicaid, it intended to create a real system of delivering high quality medical care to poor people, not a system that couldn't deliver for a significant number. The benefits aren't getting there.” A particular target is the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW), which is charged with making sure nursing homes comply with federal standards to insure high quality health care. Legal Aid, which is reluctant to say too much about the case because it is pending, feels HEW merely established a “paper compliance" system whereas Congress wanted a compliance system to “see benefits and rights delivered and prevent the kinds of injuries and deprivations of rights alleged in the suit." THE SUIT NAMES every rung in the bureaucracy which participates in the provision of nursing home care, ranging from the owners of Heritage House to the state Department of Social Services and HEW. In addition to asking for monetary damages, the suit also seeks an injunction prohibiting deprivation of medical care and patient rights. The rights include proper medical and psychosocial treatment and care, the right to seek legal counsel and manage personal monies, the right to voice grievances and the right to adequate notice and opportunity for a hearing prior to transfer, among others. It also asks HEW to come up with a decent system of enforcing compliance with such federal laws. Because of the complex nature of the suit, it already has become a “paper nightmare," according to Holland, and a “paper war,“ according to Heritage House attomey Bob Eberhardt. THE PLEADINGS STAND some two feet high and the court hasn't decided jurisdiction yet. Perhaps one of the most damning affidavits filed so far is by Janice Jacobson, a former administrator of Heritage House. “Heritage House was filthy, cockroaches had infested the entire home (with the exception of the kitchen). The walls wene very dirty and an odor of urine permeated the air. “Flies were everywhere. They present a particular problem to those persons who are bedfast or paralyzed because they can't swat the flies from their faces or bodies. “Temperature controls were broken. Zone control valves which control the room temperature were corroded either open or shut so that the rooms were unbearably hot or cold. “INDIVIDUAL CARE PLANS are either totally inadequate or not existent." “Patients who had to be fed were degraded by impatient orderlies who constantly hurried them along faster than they could comfortably go on the pretext of there not being enough time to feed them." “Staff would get angry with people for having something wrong with them like uncontrolled bowels." “Lots of patients would never get dressed every day. The staff didn’t like to take the time to dress them. By keeping patients undressed a general institutional goal of keeping them in bed and more inactive was more readily achieved. “It was not uncommon for people who did get dressed to not be undressed but rather to sleep in their clothes. l received complaints from one family that one of the male patients there had the same clothes on for weeks. They knew because the same spot was on his shirt for three weeks." “Visitors and relatives often complained that their relatives or friends hadn't received baths or showers for weeks." “It was reported to me by nursing staff the director of nursing believed physical correction of resident misconduct was permissible and that she employed a technique of having persons she decided were misbehaving placed in cold showers." “The call button system at Heritage House often wasn't working and when it was, working staff very often didn't respond to calls. There was one incident while I was there where family members called in and said they heard their mother was dead. The nurse had to go down to the room to see if this was so. The woman had been dead for several hours." Mrs. Jacobson says, in her view, Heritage House was “warehousing people, not delivering health care." "Residents had no more rights than children and the official view was that the staff knew what was best for them and if the patients didn't think we were doing everything right or what they needed they could just leave." Management expressed this view often. “PATIENTS WERE KEPT tractable and quiescent by intimidation and medication. Encouraging people to be as normal as they can be is the essence of good nursing care. It was not done at Heritage House.“ In response, Heritage House attorney Eberhardt said the accusations are “totally untrue and completely without foundation. You can't cross-examine affidavits. The truth will come out in the trial. “ He also points to the affidavit of Allen Buckingham, regional director of the HEW office of Long Term Care Standards Enforcement. Buckingham stated his office never received any complaints concerning the allegations. Oscar Gross, former part owner and also a defendant, said he never would have been able to keep his license if the allegations were true. In addition, he said his home was the only home to provide a wing specifically for handicapped youths and he even received two awards from the wing. “We tried to do our best," he said. He also offered to take the News to the home to interview patients about conditions. He said his wife still visits patients. Gross sold the home in February and it now is under new management. Gross said he sold the home simply as “a business transaction.“ Before Michael Smith died last year, he testified at one hearing on the case. “He already felt he had won," recalled Mrs. Malpass.
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The Denver Post? [Headline] Atlantis Residents Train for Hot Line Handicapped persons residing in the Atlantis Community in Denver are being trained to man a telephone hot line to respond to the emergency needs of all the disabled in Denver. Wade Blank, Atlantis co-director, said the hot line -- soon to be put into service -- is being funded by the Colorado Vocational Rehabilitation Division. [Subheading] FURNITURE GIVEN In other developments at Atlantis, the Denver Hilton Hotel ls donating furniture for the apartments in which the handicapped persons reside at the Las Casitas Public Housing Development here. The furniture is being made available by the hotel as the result of remodeling of some of the Hilton’s rooms, Blank noted. Atlantis ls a nonprofit organization which began operations last spring to offer the handicapped the opportunity to live in apartments so that they might attempt to realize their full potential. Blank also said the IBM Corp. in Denver, through its staff member Burt Lipell, donated a new washer and dryer to Atlantis. This equipment is operated by George Roberts, one of the Atlantis residents. The Denver City Council, Blank said, is being asked to appropriate $2,000 for installation of sidewalks among all the Atlantis apartments before winter comes. Atlantis has received three new electric wheel chairs and one manual chair through the efforts of Dr. James Syner of Medicaid’s special Medical Equipment division. [Subheading] COMMUNICATIONS A communications system also ls being planned among each of the apartments at Atlantis. And one of Atlantis’ most severely disabled residents is the coordinator of a wheel chair van which Atlantis leases from this resident, Blank said. This project also is funded by the rehabilitation division. Five Atlantis residents are attending local schools or colleges - one resident attending Metropolitan State College, one at Red Rocks School, two at Boettcher School and one at Opportunity School. PHOTO on bottom: Side view of a man's (Wade Blank) head, with below the shoulder long straight blondish hair, clean shaven, and wearing round glasses and a dark shirt. Caption reads: Wade Blank, The Disabled. Next article on right Disabled Helped by Wirth's Compassion To the Denver Post: IN A RECENT LETTER to the Forum (April 27), Rita Jackson complained that Representative's Wirth office is not accessible to the handicapped "via the front door." A partial truth can be a big lie, and the whole truth should be told. It is true that the front door is hard to negotiate in a wheelchair, but the office building is accessible from the rear, which is where the parking lot is located. Here, as in many office buildings, the "rear" is the normal, preferred building entrance, and as no "second class" connotations. What is more important, Tim Wirth is not the kind of ivory tower legislator who hides in his office and expects the world, disabled included, to bring its problems to him. Tim Wirth constantly leaves his office, goes out into the community, and talks to the people about their problems in their own environment. The disabled have often been helped by his blend of energy and compassion. Atlantis has found that Tim Wirth's heart and mind are always accessible, and that is what counts. Atlantis' Residents - Carolyn Finnell, Darrell Clark, Jackie Nielsen, Jean Joyce, Delbert Spotts, Jim Lundvall, Gary Van Lake, George Roberts, Will Cornelison, Alex Chavez Denver AD in a box: The Perfect Gift... "Companions" A book of unusual poetry by Michael Smith. Available soon at local book stores (All proceeds, after printing and selling costs, will go to the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver.) PHOTO: Close-up of a man (Michael Smith) with long hair and dark mustache and beard looking up soulfully from a bed. Someone, mostly out of the picture, is looking down at him.
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Denver Post, Photo by John Sunderland: Ten people in wheelchairs [including, left to right, George Roberts, Les Hubbard, Bob Conrad and Debbie Tracy?] sit in the street in two rows along a curb. George and Les are hammering the curb with sledgehammers as the others watch. The woman to the far right holds a sign that says "We [unreadable] curb cuts, and has a stick figure picture of a woman in a wheelchair. in the background on the left side you can see part of someone else in a chair with a hammer. Cation reads: George Roberts, left, and Les Hubbard Bludgeon a Curb in Protest. Other members of the Atlantis Community surround them in a demonstration against obstacles to their mobility. [Headline] Atlantis Members Bludgeon Curb in Protest By Bill Scanlon, Special to the Denver Post An 8-inch curb is not much of an obstacle to most pedestrians. But when you are in a wheelchair and you’ve counted 44,000 of them and each one of them is an obstacle to your movement and your freedom, that 8-inch curb can become a symbol of intense frustration. Two handicapped Denverites bludgeoned such a curb with 20-pound sledgehammers Monday afternoon to show their anger at the mayor's office for what they described as a failure to make the sidewalks and streets of Denver safe and accessible to the disabled community. THE DEMONSTRATION at the corner of East Colfax Avenue and Colorado Boulevard was put together by the Atlantis Community, an organization of handicapped people. According to a press release, the group staged the protest to “express our anger and frustration at the 44,000 curbs in Denver which prevent us from using the sidewalks and crossing the streets." A crowd of about 30 people watched and cheered as a like number of handicapped people wheeled their chairs westward down the sidewalk in front of National Jewish Hospital. When they reached a curb that had been cut to provide automobiles access they crossed Colfax Avenue. Then they proceeded eastward along the Colfax Avenue sidewalk until they reached the Conoco service station at the corner. There was a rounded curb there, so the protesters wheeled their chairs across Colfax. They were forced to edge into Colorado Boulevard traffic to go around the concrete median. At the corner they found themselves up against an 8-inch curb, symbolic of thousands of others that had stirred the protest. THERE, LES HUBBARD and George Roberts began wielding their sledgehammers. Amid cheers of “Down with the curbs," they succeeded in inflicting slight damage to the concrete slab. Drivers stopping at the corner traffic light were mostly curious, often supportive, but also a little wary about hitting the wheelchairs. The chairs impeded but did not stop traffic at the busy intersection. During a break from hammering, Hubbard said, “We have the right to go places like anyone else, but we can't. I'd like to put (Mayor Bill) McNichols in a wheelchair tor about a month." Two years ago Atlantis staged a protest against the Regional Transportation District for failing to provide adequate means for disabled people to ride the bus. Bob Conrad, co-administrator of Atlantis, said the group was not protesting RTD this time. By 1982, RTD expects to make its bus system the nation's first that is fully accessible to the physically handicapped. CONRAD SAID the city has been “pretty responsive" in the downtown area to the needs of handicapped people, but it has not responded to particular curb problems elsewhere. He said, “The city only cuts curbs that have been damaged" and added that the city budget no longer provides money for cutting undamaged curbs at particular problem areas. Edward Ellerbrock, a spokesman for Denver's Traffic Engineering Department, said there has been less money budgeted for building wheelchair ramps the past two years only because the demand has been less. He said his department met with Atlantis officials less than a week ago for "some brainstorming." He said both sides agreed that Atlantis would start identifying specific spots where ramps were needed and the Traffic Engineering Department would respond to them within the limits of its budget. Ellerbrock said his department is requesting $100,000 to cut curbs and build wheelchair ramps. He added that there is “no guarantee we're going to get it," so for publicity's sake the protest might have had some merit. CONRAD SAID that for a wheelchair person “one curb is just as bad as a flight of stairs." He said handicapped people usually have to wait in their chairs at an intersection until some people come along to help them up the curb. “Unless you're really trained at doing it he said, “you can dump the person out while trying to lift him." Hubbard said he has been hit four times by automobiles “because of these curbs. Once I had to have back surgery." He said he wanted to hammer the curb “just enough to get the message across." After about a half-hour of hammering, cheering, chanting and impeding of traffic, a Denver police car arrived and the group was told to clear the intersection or the protesters would be ticketed. The group agreed to move, apparently believing the point had been made. Denver Police Sgt. Richard Nelsen later said, "They got the publicity they wanted. They're happy. I'm happy it's all over.
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The Denver Post PHOTO by John Prieto, Denver Post: A woman in a wheelchair (Carolyn Finnell) is surrounded four able-bodied persons. One man is kneeling down in front of her to talk with her. Caption reads: Carolyn Fannell (In wheelchair) discusses the protest with RTD executive director L.A. “Klm" Kimball. Boxed Text: "You were talking about a separate and unequal system." -- Protester Wade Blank Threat of Sit-In Over RTD Lift Plans Dissolves By GEORGE LANE, Denver Post Urban Affairs Writer [This story continues on ADAPT 113, but the entire text has been included here for easier reading.] After tense negotiations, Regional Transportation District officials avoided use of police force Thursday night to break up a threatened all-night wheelchair sit-in at RTD headquarters. The protesters want RTD to reconsider a decision not to put wheelchair lifts on new buses — a decision they say broke an agency promise made to them last year. Three district board members promised about 25 disabled persons they would try to call a special meeting to reconsider the anti-lift action. The sit-in was staged in the fifth-floor executive offices of the RTD at 1325 S. Colorado Blvd. by members of the Atlantis Community for the disabled. The promise, contained in a policy statement adopted by the RTD board a year ago, was that 50 percent of the existing bus fleet of more than 600 vehicles would be retrofitted with wheelchair lifts, and all new buses would be ordered with lifts. When the statement was approved, there was a federal regulation demanding that all federally financed transit agencies make transportation modes accessible to the handicapped, and all new buses purchased had to have the lifts. RTD was one of the only transit agencies in the country to take steps toward complying with the regulation. But the regulation was repealed last July. Thursday afternoon, the RTD board voted to save more than $1 million by canceling the order to have the lifts installed on 89 high-capacity, articulated buses expected to be delivered in 1983. Wade Blank, co-administrator of Atlantis, pointed out to board members before the vote was taken that the day the regulation was rescinded, RTD officials said lifting the regulation would have no effect on the district's commitment to serving disabled persons. “A week ago I came to a meeting, and about 10 minutes to four, it was casually mentioned" there would be no lifts on articulated buses, Blank said. "I was dazed... it took a few days to realize that you were talking about a separate and unequal system." Robert Conrad, also an Atlantis administrator, told RTD board members he feels "betrayed" because he has worked closely with RTD on providing service to the handicapped “and all of a sudden you spring this on us." Board member Flodie Anderson explained to the approximately 75 angry persons attending the meeting that RTD intends to use the articulated buses on express routes and other heavy routes. Under that plan, Anderson said, other buses will be freed that will be lift-equipped and able to provide better service to disabled people than is provided now. Board member Edward Cassinis told the group that buses currently equipped with wheelchair lifts are carrying a maximum of 270 wheelchair passengers per week. RTD's “handiride,“ which provides front-door service to disabled passenger, is handling 831 riders per week. When the vote was taken on the action, the outcome was 12-4 against installation of the lifts. Members of the Atlantis Community and several other disabled organizations then gathered ln hallway outside the first-floor meeting room and decided to “resume civil disobedience." The group of about 25, all from Atlantis, then rode the elevators to the fifth floor of the building and began their sit-in shortly after 4 p.m. Motorized wheelchairs were parked in the doorways of the three elevators to make it impossible for them to be used. Shortly after the beginning of the demonstration, Bob West, RTD’s director called for police assistance and paramedics “because we don’t want anybody to get hurt.” The police, however, didn’t arrive for more than an hour and when they did arrive, the negotiating session that would end the sit-in already was in progress in a fifth-floor conference room. During that session, board members Mary Duty, Kathi Williams and Thomas Bastien agreed to try to get their fellow board members to meet again to possibly reconsider the issue. L.A. “Kim” Kimball, RTD’s executive director and general manager, also agreed not to execute the board action until an effort is made to set up the special board meeting. “But I can’t guarantee they will” Kimball added. “We can guarantee that if they don’t, we’ll file suit for breach of promise,” responded Mary Penland, an Atlantis employee. “And we’ll guarantee those articulated buses won’t roll unless they roll over our bodies.”
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The Denver Post August 29, 1976 PHOTO: A woman (Carolyn Finell) sits in her wheelchair turned sideways, relaxed, facing the camera. Her arm is slung over the backrest, and she is beaming. New Key Fulfills Residents' Dreams (continued from page 36) 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, co-directors 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 blury] 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'd 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 jubilent 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!"
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Denver News [Headline] Handicapped protest curbs PHOTO by Steve Groer, News photo: A slim young African American man [George Roberts] in a wheelchair looks down intently as the sledgehammer he is swinging hits the curb. Beside him another man in a wheelchair [Les Hubbard] holds another sledgehammer in left hand, while holding his right arm over his had, in almost a fencing pose. Behind them sits a third man, also in a wheelchair. Caption reads: George Roberts, right, and Les Hubbard swing hammers in effort to level curb at southwest corner of East Colfax Avenue and Colorado Boulevard [Headline] 'Put McNichols in a wheelchair' By Jane Hulse Les Hubbard has been hit by cars four times as he tried to maneuver his wheelchair over impeding curbs to cross Denver streets. Hubbard, a handicapped resident of Atlantis Community lnc., underwent painful back surgery as a result of one such mishap. “That’s why I've got this hammer," he said Monday, just before he took a sledgehammer to a curb at Colorado Boulevard and East Colfax Avenue. He was one of about 50 wheelchair bound Atlantis residents who destroyed the curb to protest the city’s discontinuation of a program to eliminate hindering curbs and replace them with ramps. Hubbard and George Roberts, another Atlantis resident, chipped away at the curb while others in wheelchairs gathered in the street to cheer. “Down with curbs!" chanted the group, as traffic inched its way around the protesters and spectators. Some protesters held signs that read “We demand curb cuts," “Come on Denver, level with us — cut curbs now," and “Make Denver accessible." The curb turned out to be much stronger than the entourage expected. Hubbard and Roberts chipped away at it, leaving a small mound of crumbled concrete in the street. “They build tough curbs," exclaimed Hubbard, sweating in the 90-degree heat. "This is just enough to get the message across to make the sidewalks accessible,“ he said. “I'd like to take (Mayor William) McNichols and put him in a wheelchair for one month. It ain't easy. It looks easy because we're good at it." He said he rolls his wheelchair down a driveway near an intersection, rather than jumping the curb. Then he must maneuver the chair along the street, trying to avoid traffic as he crosses the intersection. The wheelchair-bound men and women began their protest with a single-file, westward march along East Colfax Avenue. They rolled that way for a block, then crossed the busy street and headed back to Colorado Boulevard. Traffic came to a halt. The protest ended peacefully when Denver police arrived, ordered the hammering stopped and ushered the protesters out of the road. The participants had acknowledged in advance that they might be arrested for civil disobedience. No arrests took place. A few years ago, the city undertook to remove impeding curbs and replace them with ramps. Many such ramps were installed around the city, each put in at the request of disabled citizens who found certain curbs a barrier when the went to work or did their shopping, according to Mary Penland, an administrator for Atlantis. “There are no funds for the program this year,” she said, echoing the city's response to recent requests for new ramps. "We want the program re-established," she said. Ed Ellerbrock, chief design engineer for the city's Traffic Engineering Division, said he was surprised by the demonstration. He said he and other city officials met with Atlantis residents last Wednesday about the curb issue and the meeting ended on a friendly note. He said he'd told the residents then that he would request $100,000 in next year's budget to reinstitute the program, he said, he had planned $50,000, but he upped the amount at their insistence. Ellerbrock said the program was discontinued in 1978 because requests for curb ramps had slacked off. He has had 12 requests since then. With each ramp pegged at a cost of $1,500, Ellerbrock said, he has been unable to fulfill the request with money from other departments.
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Rocky Mountain News Sunday March 27, 1977 Disabled are limited by society's attitudes By Alan Cunningham PHOTO by John Gordon, News: A young man (Larry Ruiz) sits in a wheelchair in front of a building. The shot shows his whole body and wheelchair and is looking up at Larry's smiling face. (For those who knew Larry, it's a classic Larry smile.) Caption reads: Larry Ruiz is one of those leading better lives of the Atlantis community. Nobody seems to know exactly how many disabled Americans there are - or even how one should define them. In Colorado, the figures are even more sketchy than they are nationally. But one estimate, based on federal statistics, suggests there may be as many as 350,000 disabled citizens in this state. If true, that would mean that 14 percent of the population suffers from some disability. The same projection indicates that as many as 83,000 of these persons as unable to work, keep house or go to school. Gov. Dick Lamm sometimes uses a more conservative figure of 10 percent. But even if that is closer to the truth, it shows that the plight of the disabled is a major problem. It also offers a clue as to why the disabled seem sure to emerge soon as the country's newest civil rights lobby. The have the numbers to make themselves heard - and seen - if they can begin to speak out with a unified voice, demanding their fair share of the American Pie. Until now, they've suffered the fate of most minority groups: invisibility. This is ironic, since most are highly visible if anyone chooses to see them. But for many reasons - not the least a sense of guilt - the able-bodied tend to turn away from those with crutches, wheelchairs and seeing eye dogs. And those who plan public facilities and services often reflect this attitude. It is politically safe for them to ignore the needs of the disabled pretending such persons make up a tiny fraction of the population and thus don't deserve a major share of attention. A myth to be sure. But it is only one of several myths which the Atlantis community, a group home for handicapped persons, in a minority report to the upcoming White House Conference on Handicapped individuals, hopes to destroy. For instance, there is the idea that nursing homes are primarily heavens for the aged and the infirm. The opposite side of that assumption is set forth in the opening chapter of the Atlantis report. Few realize that our nation's institutions also house a great many disabled young persons, some in their early teens. THESE ARE THE victims of our society's response to children and young adults who have muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, birth defects, blindness, and neurological disorders, or have survived accidents of varying kinds. But they are there by the thousands, many simply because they were labeled by physicians and psychologists as "retarded" and unable to function normally. It is difficult to imagine a more stifling or inappropriate atmosphere for a young person. It is inhumane to shackle and imprison youthful energy and curiosity into the nursing home routine. Such repressive living leads to anger, hostility and finally to the withdrawal and waste of a battered ego. As the report goes on to explain, the Atlantis group has fought to get more than 30 young men and women out of nursing homes and institutions so as to demonstrate that they can reverse this pattern if given a chance. But, even as it begins to reverse, new problems emerge. Most have to do with obstacles which the world has placed in the way of the disabled person. Again, it has a lot do with society's tendency to act as if he doesn't exist. Funds for rehabilitation programs, both public and private, are so scarce that only a small fraction of the disabled ever benefit from them. A prime example of this comes from State Rehabilitation Director Glenn Crawford, who says his division has determined that 135,000 persons in Colorado are potentially eligible for its services. Yet, in 1976, the division served about 14,300 persons. The figure will inch its way up to 16,000 this year. Such private facilities as the widely acclaimed Craig Hospital also have finite resources. They apply guidelines to decide which applicants will be accepted and which won't. Needless to say, a lawyer whose only disability is the loss of his legs has a better chance than a 19-year-old with no schooling who has lain on his back for most of his life. Funds and facilities for handicapped scarce Those who don't get the help often wind up in the category that Wade Blank of Atlantis refers to as "the losers." He contends that those who work with the disabled have too quickly given up on this group of people consigning them to lives of hopelessness. And he further argues that the implications of this have narrowed opportunities not only for the severely disabled, but for many others with less serious problems. For even those who have escaped the awful label of the "loser" run into obstacles every day. The Atlantis report focuses on many of these obstacles. These are some of the observations: EDUCATION. Many disabled youngsters in the past have failed to get adequate schooling either because they were in institutions or because their families assumed they would never be able to lead normal lives as adults and consequently didn't need to be trained for careers. Even those who went to school often were sidelined into special programs for the handicapped. While academic standards were high in such programs, the students were poorly prepared either intellectually or emotionally, to get along in a world of able-bodied persons. The recommended solution, "mainstreaming"- that is, letting disabled youngsters and adults go to school in the same classroom with everyone else. MONEY. The complexities of the various welfare programs on the county, state and federal level often conspire to keep disabled persons in nursing homes. Counties often find they have to pay more money if a man or woman is living in his own apartments, or in a facility, such as Atlantis, than they do if he or she is in a nursing home. That's because the federal government pays the bulk of the nursing home fee. Likewise, assistance payments are cut off if a disabled person earns more than a pittance in a month's time. The cutoff can be as low as $65. The "maximum level of income"from federal state and county assistance payments is $185. This means many disabled persons are living below the poverty level as it has been defined for other underprivileged groups. The solution as viewed by those who put together the Atlantis report, is to simplify and integrate the complicated payments system. But even more important, to increase payments so that everyone gets the same amount of money whether he is in an institution or out. TRANSPORTATION. The report talks about a number of things here including electric wheelchairs and curb cuts, but is main statement under this heading is that bus systems such as the Regional Transportation District (RTD) should become fully accessible to the disabled. RTD, it contends, has been unresponsive to the needs of disabled would be riders for transportation to work, school and for pleasure trips. Even the special HandiRide service - which RTD often boasts is a frontrunner in the nation - is given poor marks. LAWS. [not legible...] Colorado concerning the disabled in general and the severely physically disabled in particular, the report states. Furthermore, it is not realistic to think that the disabled will get effective legislation passed without having government officials sensitized to the disabled's problems. This may already be changing. Largely due to lobbying by Atlantis, hearings were underway in the General Assembly this week on two bills aimed at helping the disabled. One, a Senate bill now in committee, would allow more Coloradans to receive payments so they could hire home attendants. The other, a House bill, is a "civil rights bill for the handicapped." It would bar discrimination against the disabled. Backers of the latter bill point out that it's needed because the federal civil rights laws, while dealing with the rights of racial minorities and women, have never guaranteed these same rights to disabled citizens. Idealy, says the Atlantis report, Congress and the state legislatures need to weed out laws which are confusing and contradictory, often creating "disincentives"for the disabled to pursue more normal lives. A wholistic approach is needed. JOBS. Virtually every problem mentioned above, plus all the others catalogued in the report, tend to stand in the way of the disabled person who seriously wants to go to work in spite of the lip service paid to the slogan, "Hire the handicapped," many find the doors still closed. The reasons are many and the problems complex. Lack of schooling is a factor. Some disabled persons have languished in sheltered workshops, counting fish hooks and getting paid $10 a month for it, the report says. Others have an education but find that architectural barriers, or the lack of adequate bus service, keep them from getting to jobs they could perform. And attitudes often stand in the way when physical barriers are moved aside. "Perhaps the greatest barrier of all is in the minds of men," the report notes. It advocates more and better training programs, plus affirmative action plans to assure that larger numbers of disabled workers are hired by public and private employers. In an elaborate ceremony several weeks ago, the Atlantis report was presented to Mayor Bill McNichols. But privately some of those connected with the report conceded they didn't expect to see much action on the local level until public policies in Washington and throughout the nation begin to change significantly. That's why the Atlantis group is placing much emphasis on its efforts to make an impression on the Carter administration during its formative period. The time seems ripe for a coalition of disabled groups around the country to launch a concerted civil rights drive on behalf of their "invisible" constituents. And the first test may come April 5, when many groups have threatened to stage a sit-in at offices of the Department of Health Education and Welfare, including the regional office in Denver, if new HEW Secretary Joseph Califano hasn't issued new regulations to implement laws for the disabled. "The disabled have been ignored far too long in this society," declares the Atlantis report. "We are demanding that our rights be addressed. We are giving you, the policy makers, our findings and recommendations on how to solve the inequities in the system. "The next is yours." Such words, when voiced by other groups, have inevitably been followed by major social changes. It seems likely the same pattern will apply here. PHOTO by John Gordon, News: A man lies in a hospital bed, covered by sheets. Photo is very dark and hard to make out. Caption reads: Shooting victim [unreadable] from nursing home [unreadable] he said [unreadable] has been paralyzed since [unreadable].
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[Headline] Handicapped Pin Hope on Atlantis By Sharon Sherman Denver Post Staff Writer The word "activist' once scared a group of young Handicapped Denverites. But after almost two years of wheeling themselves onto picket lines, sitting through meetings with government agencies and speaking out about the problems of being shunted out of the mainstream of society, they agree that the term activist describes what they have become. And they are proud of it. "At least we're actively trying to do what we can instead of sitting back and wishing', is the way Carolyn Finnell, 31, sees the new role of many physically handicapped young people. [Subheading] Buses for Handicapped Carolyn, and others like her in the handicapped community, helped convince the Regional Transportation District to begin adding buses equipped for the handicapped. They have testified at various hearings about problems of the disabled. [TEXT UNREADABLE] They are among the principal planners of the Atlantis Community, a project which would offer the physically handicapped many types of residential living arrangements with services they need available nearby. Carolyn, who has cerebral play which confines her to a wheelchair and distorts her speech, said it was hard to "face speaking out" to rooms full of strangers, but that living with other young adults at Heritage House Nursing Home youth wing has "brought me out a lot." [Subheading] Stayed Inside Shell If Mike Smith, 20, had had his way, he would have stayed inside his shell of poetry writing, reading, and discussing philosophy and listening to music. "I don't like being in politics, but it seems that's the way we have to go,'' Mike explained. " I guess you have to lose a little to get a lot.'' Linda Chism, 27, believes that for the first time, there are enough young disabled people ready and willing to push themselves forward, to speak out, that there is a chance of changing the entire lifestyle of the handicapped. For Mike Smith, those changes may come too late to be enjoyed. [Subheading] Depressed, Angry Mike has muscular dystrophy, a fatal disease. He has spent the past five years in nursing homes, living in one where, at 15, he was punished for breaking rules and being sent to the locked ward for 24 hours at a time. Finally, lonely for friends his own age, depressed at watching his elderly roommate die of cancer, angry at rules which confined him to the small world of the nursing home, Mike attempted suicide. "Luckily, I had no idea how to go about it," he remembers. "I took 20 bowel softener pills and instead of dying just created an incredible mess." For Mike, as for Carolyn, the youth wing at Heritage House is infinitely better than what they had before. But, Mike points out, once the first door that closes any human being away from the rest of the world is opened, that human being will see other doors to open. So it has been for Carolyn, who counted fishhooks for five years in a sheltered workshop before someone recognized her potential. [Subheading] Wants Meaningful Job Now, with a degree in journalism from Community College behind her, Carolyn wants some other things she's not getting out of life. Things like a meaningful job, an apartment of her own where she won't have to keep half her belongings in boxes under the bed, the privacy to entertain friends. "I'm probably living a more active life than I ever have before", she said, explaining that she now edits the youth-wing newsletter and is learning braille so she can tutor blind students. Having come so far, Carolyn's not willing to stop here. Neither is Linda Chism, who has had crippling rheumatoid arthritis for 20 years. Linda has "suffered a lot of surgery and a lot of hard, hard therapy" to become fairly mobile. She has taken three years of courses in biology and psychology at the University of Colorado. She was even offered a full-time job. [Subheading] System Inflexible But the system doesn't allow even the disabled who are capable of supporting themselves to do so, Linda said. If she was paid even minimum wage, she would earn too much and would lose her Social Security benefits. But it would take much more than a minimum wage salary to pay living expenses plus the $150 a month it would cost her to get to work and back. In addition, she would no longer receive Medicaid assistance, and medical bills for someone in Linda's condition are enormous. "Who's going to pay a beginner with no experience that much money?" she asked. [Subheading] Innovative Projects For now, for these and other physically handicapped young adults, the boundaries of their world still don't go far beyond the nursing home walls. But those boundaries will expand dramatically if the young disabled can find support for two innovative projects. One is Project Normalization, a one year pilot study to find out what services young people in nursing homes need to live as normal a life as possible. The project would be conducted at the young wing of Heritage House and is estimated to cost $241,872. The state Department of Social Services has suggested that the pilot project be run by the Department of Physical Medicine of the University of Colorado Medical School. Members of the department now are investigating that possibility. [Subheading] Denied Normal Life "Disabled people are often denied any resemblance of a normal life," the project introduction says. "Because of the segregation they encounter, and the sheltered nature of their early lives, when they reach young adulthood they are incapable of functioning satisfactorily in society and so are banished to nursing homes where the repressive, nonstimulating and socially undemanding environment serves only to multiply their social inadequacies and further depersonalize them. As its creators see it, Project Normalization would begin to to prepare handicapped young adults for the kind of independent living they hope Atlantis will someday offer. [Subheading] Create a Community Atlantis is an ambitious project, planned by a group of both handicapped and able bodied persons, which would create a community of residential units surrounding a hub housing medical, rehabilitative employment, counseling, homemaker, transportation, food and social services. The goal of the community will be to "provide needed services while respecting the individual resident's freedom and privacy," according to the project booklet. For some of the prospective tenants of Atlantis, that goal can't be realized too soon. "I just sort of wish they'd hurry, " said Mike Smith. "Some of us have fatal diseases, you know, I only have two or three years to wait. "
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Heritage House Herald, Vol.1, No.4 January 1974 [Access symbols on either side of the masthead] PHOTO: Three men sit together. In the left foreground Glenn Kopp sits slightly in front of the other two, smiling almost laughing. Beside him in the middle is Wade Blank with his long blonde hair and a slight smile. On Wade's other side, Lee is leaning in happily laughing a toothless laugh. All three men are wearing glasses. Caption reads: Glenn, Wade, Lee [Headline] YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND by Judy Serfoss You may not be aware how unique a facility our youth wing is. It is the only one in the state with a special program designed for young people. If it were not for youth wing, we would all be in geriatric nursing homes with no concessions made for our age and needs. We would no longer be able to go to ball games, or concerts, or movies, or the Spaghetti Factory. We are extremely fortunate to have a home like this, and the one person most responsible for the creation and continuation of youth wing is Wade Blank. Wade was born in Pennsylvania in 1940, and after graduating from high school he attended Muskingum College in Massillon, Ohio, where he received a bachelor's degree in English with a minor in psychology. After he graduated from college, he worked for a while in a car wash before enrolling at MacCormac Theological Seminary in Chicago, Illinois, where he received his master’s degree in Theology, Study of Counter Culture, Drug Abuse Counseling, and Community Organization. His studies at MacCormac were financed by an anonymous grant of $5,000 from Canton, Ohio. Wade was ordained as a Presbyterian minister and had churches in Columbus and Akron, Ohio from 1966-1969. He became disenchanted with organized religion and its organized hypocrisy, so in 1969 he took a job as the Director of Poverty Progress for the Office of Economic Opportunity in Twinsburg, Ohio, from 1969-1970. Soon after the completion of that job, Wade moved to Denver. He got a job as a chaplin-orderly at Alpine Manor nursing home where he became friends with one of the directors, Tom O'Halloran. When Tom quit to become the director of Heritage House, he offered Wade the job of Youth Wing Coordinator. Wade accepted and began the Don Quiotean tank of battling the bastions of bungling bureaucracy. Being an administrator is not an easy job for an idealist, but Wade was determined to change the kind of care nursing homes offered young people. He stubbornly persisted with his innovative ideas and slowly began to change the whole spirit of youth wing. In the words of Mrs. Barkley, head nurse on the wing, “I think We are very lucky to have Wade. He has made youth wing what it is. We are all very appreciative, even though we don't always show our appreciation.“ The kind of man Wade is can be best illustrated by the comments of those who live and work with him: Geneva Sanchez: "Wade cares, he really cares, and he works so hard. Sometimes I feel sorry for him. He gets all the blame when things go wrong, and none of the credit when they are right." Neal Shaffer: "Wade works hard." John Torrez: "Wade - tough and strong." Don Clubb: “Wade's OK!" Brenda Cooke: "Swell guy, especially when you are feeling down. He always makes time to listen. Funny, and a bit conceited, but I guess all of us have a little conceit in us." Barry Rosenberg: “I have learned more from Wade than from anyone, like his belief in people and his love of life and people. Wade celebrates life, and he's always willing to lay his neck on the line for a friend." In my own case, l was utterly lost when l came to Heritage House and very withdrawn. Wade made a special effort to talk to me and hear my problems. Then he took the initiative in getting me enrolled in school and back into life. Wade is one of the most unselfish men I have ever known. He is totally dedicated and is personally involved in the lives of each and every resident in youth wing. It is an overwhelming commitment, and one which Wade makes unhesitatingly. We all owe Wade more than any of us probably realize. l think we should all make a point in the next few days of saying thanks to Wade and letting him know how much we appreciate what he has done for us. Remember: When you're down and troubled, and you need some loving care just call his name and he'll be there. You've got a friend, you've got Wade. [Headline] Mountain Peak by Mike Smith The snow came swirling down from the mountain peaks, blinding our way up the path. The mountain peaks looked cold and uninviting, in a way, a threat. . . My hands and feet were cold, but my soul was warm, and so was yours. . . And so in that cold and distant place two souls came together to form one. . . So this was love that which man is always searching for.
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THE DENVER POST Thurs., July 6, 1978 p 24 [Headline] Having ‘Made Public Aware,' Disabled End Bus Barricade By FRED GILLIES, Denver Post Staff Writer and COKE DeBRUIN More than 30 severely disabled persons, most of them in wheelchairs, ended their 24-hour barricade of two Regional Transportation District buses in downtown Denver Thursday morning. The barricade was lifted by the disabled and their leaders at 9 a.m. Thursday. The demonstrators, still in high spirits after a night in the open near the buses, left the site in five specially equipped Handy-Ride buses that RTD sent to the scene. THE BARRICADE “served its purpose" in making the public aware that the handicapped aren't being adequately served by Denver’s public transportation system, said Wade Blank, co-director of the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver. All but a few of the demonstrators are from Atlantis. At a press conference just before the barricade was lifted, Blank vowed that the disabled's civil disobedience action will be continued, but on a smaller scale, at various locations in Denver. The disabled will attempt to board other RTD buses and a demonstration probably will be staged at RTD's executive offices, Blank said. The barricade of the two RTD buses Wednesday near the intersection of East Colfax Avenue and Lincoln Street created a major traffic jam and caused police to reroute traffic away from the blocklong demonstration site. Traffic was back to normal at 9:30 a.m. Thursday. ALL DURING the demonstration, some of the disabled remained close to the buses. The number of handicapped persons guarding the immobilized buses thinned Wednesday night and early Thursday as many of the disabled slept in a nearby park area. Blank said Thursday that he and the disabled were"‘concerned" about the “paternalistic” attitude of Denver police called to the scene of the bus barricade. Police “gave the disabled special treatment when we broke the law, and they didn’t arrest us," Blank said. THE DISABLED want to he treated like everyone else, and were fully prepared to be arrested for their actions, said Blank who has no disability himself. Three persons, including two Atlantis attendants and the director of a Lakewood home for disabled children, were arrested Wednesday morning after they refused to comply with a police order to move out of the street. However, police records show that only two of those persons were booked and then released on bond. NONE OF THE handicapped demonstrators was arrested during the demonstration. But a police spokesman said Thursday morning that arrests of the disabled would become a very real possibility if the demonstration had continued into the day Thursday. While the demonstration generally was successful, it failed to inform the public that the federal govemment has made a commitment to pay 80 percent of the cost of all transportation for the disabled in the City and County of Denver, Blank said. “All RTD has to do is to ask for that money," Blank maintained. In a continuing effort, Blank said, Atlantis officials will be, contacting Colorado’s congressional delegation seeking their follow-through on the issue of transportation for the disabled. The demonstration apparently was "sparked by a ruling last Friday by U.S. District Judge Richard Matsch in federal court in Denver. In that ruling, Matsch rejected charges that the Regional Transportation District's failure to provide special access for handicapped persons on its buses constituted an unconstitutional infringement on those persons’ liberty to travel. THAT SUIT WAS the culmination of nearly five years of effort in trying to work with RTD in updating and equipping its fleet to accommodate the disabled, Blank said. “We thought the best way to change the system was to go through the courts, but that failed,” Blank said Wednesday night. "Now, where do we get the power to change RTD?" John Simpson, director of the RTD, spent four hours Wednesday talking with members of the handicapped group, attempting to persuade them to end their barricade of the buses and discuss the situation through existing channels. “We volunteered to meet with them there or at any other time,” Simpson said. “We have met with them many times in the past," he added. THE COURT DECISION, Simpson said, indicates “what we are doing isn't a violation of their constitutional rights. Our Handy-Ride service is one of the best in the nation. But they say they won‘t go away until every RTD bus has a chair lift on it." In a discussion with one of the demonstrators Wednesday, Simpson said that since 1975, RTD has operated 12 buses specially equipped to serve the handicapped. Eighteen similarly equipped buses are being readied for service “in the near future," Simpson said. And 10 other buses will be provided with equipment to serve the handicapped, hopefully by September, he added. But the coalition of the handicapped maintained RTD's Handy-Ride—a system equipped with wheelchair lifts and stairs-is “foul joke" inasmuch - as it serves only “a handful" of the 1,000 disabled persons on the waiting list. SIMPSON RESPONDED by maintaining there are 700 disabled persons on that waiting list, and many of those have indicated they need only occasional Handy-Ride service. RTD‘s last order for 231 buses, Sim said, specified that the vehicles have wide doors to accommodate the handicapped “when and if it becomes financially and economically feasible." Eighteen of the 231 buses will have wheelchair tie-down devices, and those buses [will] be placed in regular service whenever we're sure they‘re safe,” Simpson said. One of the demonstrators. Kerry Sc[_?__] 25, of Denver, said, “We're paying to support these buses. I have my rights. There's (handicapped) people tied up in homes. They can't get nowhere—shopping, to the movies or sports. In [lndia]neapolis, they have buses for the handicapped and they're running really g[ood.] I don't see why Denver doesn't have the same thing.” GLENN COPP, co director of the Atlantis Community, maintained that RTD Handy-Ride buses pick up the handicapped “only at a certain time and [bring] them only to a certain destination. Using private Ambocab service, [the] disabled must pay $17 for a round trip in the Denver area, Copp said. Blank, who is co-executive director the Atlantis Community for the handicapped, said it was the group's intention to have one of its members arrested to set a precedent. “But even if we busted, I don‘t know where we'd be Blank said. Police records show that one non-handicapped sympathizer, Lisa Wheeler, [of] Corona St., was booked then released on bond early Wednesday morning. She was arrested for failure to obey a police order to move out of the street. The demonstration took RTD office by surprise, and Jerry Richmond, “ma[nager] of communications, said the company hadn't been informed of the protest.
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Denver Post Thurs., Sept., 14, 1978? or 9? [Headline] One arrested during confrontation Photo by Denver Post photographer [Kunn B*s*0?]: Two people in uniforms carry a woman along a corridor. One has her under her arms, the other by the legs, which are crossed. A man in a suit looks from a distance down the corridor. Caption reads: Demonstrator Patsy Castor is carried from RTD building. She was one of more than 20 ejected after refusing to [unreadable.] Handicapped Protesters Forcibly Ejected From RTD Offices By BRAD MARTISILS, Denver Post Staff Writer One man was arrested and more than 20 handicapped protesters, some wailing and yelling and others kicking and resisting, were ejected forcibly from RTD headquarters Wednesday afternoon after they refused to leave voluntarily. The single arrest was made after Jeff Franek, 24, or 1123 Adams St. [unreadable] struck and knocked down an RTD employee. Franek, who isn't handicapped, was booked on suspicion of assault and released on a $50 cash bond. The demonstrators were removed from the building by about eight Denver policemen assisted by ambulance crews from Denver General Hospital. The ambulance [unreadable] there to assist demonstrators confined to wheelchairs included paramedics trained to handle disabled persons. Police also arranged for [unreadable] ambulance cabs to provide transportation for the demonstrators desiring it. THE PROTESTERS had occupied the fifth floor of RTD offices at 1225 S. Colorado Blvd earlier Wednesday. lt was one of a number of demonstrations over the past few months aimed at pressing RTD officials to provide more service for handicapped persons on regular bus routes. Protesters said they had planned to stay in the offices for three days. But when RTD's Executive Director John Simpson met with them shortly after 5 pm he explained that the building was closing and that they couldn't stay. The protesters refused to meet with him in a downstairs conference room. SIMPSON WAS interrupted by catcalls several times as he tried lo speak to the protesters. "You're not leaving me many choices," he told them when they refused to leave. Bob Conrad, 29, of 750 Knox Court, acted as spokesman for the protesters. When Simpson tried to explain RTD's policies, Conrad said he had been hearing the same explanations for years. "John, you've been telling us the same crap for three years," Conrad said. "We are being denied our rights because we can't ride the buses." Conrad said his group wants to take advantage of regular bus service. But Simpson said such service simply doesn't work for the handicapped. He pointed to a program in St. Louis, in which lifts were installed on 157 buses. In a year's time, he said, only 1,000 rides were given to persons in wheelchairs, at a cost of $200 per ride. THE IMPEDIMENTS to travel for the handicapped aren't primarily with buses," Simpson said. "Studies have shown that inability to get over curbs, to get to the bus stop, and to travel from the bus are much more important factors." Simpson said RTD's service -- which is due to be expanded -- is a better alternative than putting lifts on all buses. He said RTD's service accommodated more than 45,000 trips for handicapped persons in 1977, at a cost of about $10 per trip. He said service to the homes of handicapped persons is being provided by 12 special HandyRide buses. He said 18 more lift-equipped buses soon will begin running on fixed, circular routes, once their lift mechanisms meet the standards of the Denver Commission on the Disabled. Finally, he said 10 more specially equipped buses will soon begin running between RTD Park and Ride areas and various college campuses and shopping centers, where many handicapped persons need transportation. THE HANDYRIDE service operates by subscription, meaning the potential riders must arrange with RTD for the buses to stop at their homes. The fares are the same as for regular bus service. Simpson said the subscription service is filled to capacity, serving 55 wheelchair users and 78 persons with other disabilities. He said there is a waiting list of persons wishing to take advantage of the service. Simpson said equipping RTD buses with lifts to accommodate persons in wheelchairs would cost $4 million. Annual operating costs would be more than $6.5 million, he said. However, the protesters didn't hear his facts and figures because they refused to meet Simpson in the conference room and then were ejected. SEVERAL OF the protesters struggled violently when they were ejected from the building. At least one, Patsy Castor, 18, was slightly injured. She was hauled from the building struggling violently with ambulance crews call to assist police officers. A few onlookers said attendants purposely dropped her outside the door. Others said she struggled so violently that they dropped her accidentally. Wade Blank, director of the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver, said the group was prepared for everything but forceful ejection. "We've asked to be arrested," he said, "But the way things look, I don't think we even have the right to expect that."
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PHOTO by Gen Martin, Denver Post: Four men and women are lying wrapped in sleeping bags or blankets on pads in the street in front of a bus. The bus (15 A) once bound for Lowry AFB, now appears empty and on the front are 3 handmade posters. Two are outside under the windshield wipers. One says "Taxation without Transportation!" with a drawing of the access symbol; the other has a picture of a stick figure person next to an equals sign and the words Free Ride, and then an access symbol guy next to an equals sign and the words No Ride. Inside the window a third sign is partially visible with the access symbol and the words Right to Ride. There are police/traffic barriers down the middle of the street and a manual wheelchair. There is a bus parked on the opposite side of the street and behind it a city building with a big sign that says "lease canceled." Around the people lying down are small piles of stuff and there is a cooler by the curb.