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בית / אלבומים 68
תאריך פרסום / 2016 / פברואר
- 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 (32)
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. - ADAPT (42)
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. - ADAPT (54)
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. - ADAPT (37)
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!" - ADAPT (41)
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]. - ADAPT (55)
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. - ADAPT (4)
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. - ADAPT (52)
Rocky Mountain News, Wed., April 6, 1977, Denver, Colo. PHOTO by John Gordon: A large crowd of protesters, many in wheelchairs, are gathered outside a building. All are facing the building and a couple carry signs. Caption reads: Wheelchair demonstrators gather at noon Tuesday in front of federal courthouse. [Headline] Disabled protest lack of HEW action By Alan Cunningham Chanting slogans and carrying picket signs attached to crutches, more than 100 disabled persons staged a protest march and sit-in Tuesday at the federal office building in downtown Denver. Their sit-in was expected to last all night outside the regional office of the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW) It was part of a nationwide protest aimed at forcing HEW Secretary Joseph Califano to sign regulations implementing a "handicapped bill of rights" passed by Congress nearly four years ago. The demonstration was peaceful, for the most part, but was marred by one incident in which a parking lot manager across the street from the federal complex allegedly assaulted demonstrator Dennis Wilcox, a quadraplegic, causing him to fall out of his wheelchair. Wilcox apparently was unhurt. The manager, James C. Chidlaw, insisted the encounter occurred accidentally as he attempted to guide stalled motorists through his lot. But, on complaints by Wilcox and another demonstrator, Chidlaw was cited into county court to face two charges of assault. Simultaneous demonstrations too part at HEW headquarters in Washington and at regional offices in Denver and eight other cities. They brought forth an assurance from Califano that he would sign the regulations “early in May," but Denver demonstrators — part of a nationwide coalition which had demanded he sign by Monday - were unimpressed. In speeches outside the federal courthouse at noon Tuesday, they declared they wanted to see immediate action by HEW, followed by an aggressive program to carry out various facets of the four-year-old law. At issue is Section 504 of the Federal Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which had never been put into effect. Handicapped groups have fought with HEW secretaries under Presidents Nixon, Ford and now Carter to force them to sign regulations which would implement the act. A federal judge ordered last year that such regulations be signed, but the matter still went unresolved. The law when it takes effect, will guarantee many of the same rights to handicapped Americans which were extended to racial minorities and to women under prior legislation of the last two decades. Its provisions are expected to force public school districts to open many more of their classrooms to wheelchair-bound students, to force employers to grant equal pay to handicapped employees and to provide more stringent civil rights guarantees to those in nursing homes and institutions. The protests brought assurances from several elected officials that they were trying to persuade President Carter to speed up action on the matter. Messages to this effect came from Gov.Lamm and U.S. Sen. Floyd Haskell, D-Colo. In addition, a Washington aide to Rep. Pat Schroeder, D-Colo., told the News late Tuesday that she was drafting a telegram asking that Carter order Califano to act. Other protests took place at HEW regional offices in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, Seattle and San Francisco. Among the leaders of the Denver gathering were Ingo Antonisch, executive director of the Mayor's Commission on the Disabled, and Don Galloway, the new executive director of the Governor's Advisory Council on the Handicapped. Even Antonisch, an Austrian-born man with a stiff German accent and a generally conservative approach, was drawn into the militancy of the event. After acting HEW regional director Ed Lapidas read Califano's "early in May" statement, Antonisch stepped to the microphone and said, "Thank you very much," which inspired a woman in the crowd to yell, "We don't thank him very much, Ingo!" Antonisch got in the spirit by declaring, "I would like to say we hear the message but we want to see the action." Galloway, a black man who has been blind since he was 16, stirred up the crowd with a brief speech reminiscent of earlier civil rights campaigns. Taking his cues, they responded with lusty cries of “Right on" Even many who had difficulty speaking loudly and clearly joined in as best they could. At one point, Lyle Peterson, master of ceremonies at the noon rally, tried to lead the crowd in a chorus of "We Shall Overcome," traditional anthem of the black civil rights movement. The song proceeded weakly for a few seconds, but died when one protestor interrupted, shouting: "We want our rights!" Immediately, the crowd picked up his line and began to chant "We want our rights!" with an enthusiasm that had been lacking in the aborted attempt to sing. BOXED TEXT: We hear the message but we want to see the action. -- Ingo Antonisch - ADAPT (31)
[Headline] Heritage House Sued: Funds Violations Charged by Linda Cayton Attorneys for the Senior Citizens Law Center have filed suit in U.S. District Court charging the administrator and owners of Heritage House Nursing Care Center in Lakewood with illegally misappropriating and withholding personal needs money of patients, inadequate care, and intimidating and threatening residents who seek legal counsel. Officials of the Department of Health, Education and Welfare; Colorado Department of Social Services; and the Colorado Board of Health were also named as defendants for failure to enforce federal and state regulations governing nursing homes. The civil action represents a class action suit prompted by complaints received by the Legal Aid Society from the chief plaintiff, Patrick Smith, a 20 year old multiple sclerosis patient. Smith, a Medicaid patient, receives $25 per month from the Federal Supplemental Security Income (SSI) program to cover his personal needs. Early this year, Smith suffered a total respiratory breakdown and entered a local hospital. According to facts set forth in the lawsuit, while Smith was hospitalized, Thomas O'Halloran, administrator of Heritage House, instructed a bookkeeper to forge an “x” on Smith's SSI check. The check was endorsed, cashed, and credited to Smith's personal needs account. When Smith returned to the nursing home, O'Halloran informed him that his SSI check was unavailable. Later, Smith was informed that his check had been endorsed and cashed. Smith filed a complaint with the Legal Aid Society concerning the forgery. When attorneys informed O'Halloran of the complaint, he confronted Smith, calling him "despicable" and “ungrateful," and issued a week's eviction notice to him. Later, Smith's calls for nursing assistance went unanswered for some time and he was denied access to his medical files. In April, O’Halloran met with Assistant Colorado Attorney General Tony Accetta. According to Accetta's signed affidavit, O’Halloran admitted authorizing the forgery of Smith's signature in the belief that Smith would die before returning to Heritage House. O'Halloran also admitted circulating a memo stating that he did not “welcome harassment and threats from the legal profession” and explained that he threatened Smith with eviction because he did not want lawyers going through patients’ records. The suit charges O’Halloran and the owners of Heritage House with violating the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to the U.S. Constitution by depriving patients of the rights to manage their monies, to seek legal counsel, to adequate and proper medical and psychosocial treatment and care, to timely and adequate notice and opportunity for a hearing prior to a transfer from the facility and to access to their medical files. Casper Weinberger, Secretary of the Department of Health, Education and Welfare; Henry G. Foley, Executive Director of the Colorado Department of Social Services; and Edward Dreyfus, Director of the Colorado Department of Health were charged in the lawsuit with non-enforcement of the U.S. Constitution and those laws applicable to skilled nursing facilities. According to federal regulations, a nursing home patient should either manage his personal financial affairs or be given a quarterly accounting of financial transactions made on his behalf; be encouraged to exercise his rights as a patient and as a citizen with the right to voice grievances and remain free from reprisals; and be transferred or discharged only for medical reasons, or for his welfare, and be given advance notice of the transfer. State officials are charged with refusing to revoke or enforce Medicaid agreements or licenses of nursing homes that violate patients’ civil rights or provide inadequate care; inspecting nursing homes only once a year and giving prior notice of those inspections to the facility; and refusing to establish procedures for the management of patients’ personal needs money. Owners named in the civil action are Oscar Gross and H. Sol Cersonsky, general partners of Heritage House Associates; and Jack D. Feuer, a limited partner of Heritage House. Also named are limited partners M.J. Beitscher, Harry Berman, Bernard Ceronsky, Louis L. Fox, Howard D. Greyber, Martin Gross, Soloman Gross, Arnold Heller, Barry B. Melnick, Manuel Nash, and Johnny M. Weinreich. - ADAPT (64)
The Courant 3/8/88 PHOTO by Skip Weisenburger: A man in a wheelchair [Claude Holcomb] wearing an ADAPT T-shirt with the no steps logo and with his small wooden letter board slung over his leg swings a huge sledge hammer at a curb. He is very much assisted by a man [John Bach] kneeling beside him. Behind the two of them is another man [Clayton Jones] in a manual chair; Jones holds a slightly smaller sledge hammer and gets ready to swing at the curb. They are in the street. Claude is looking up, with a look of determination, at a uniformed police officer standing just in front of them on the sidewalk side of the curb. John is looking down where their sledge hammer will land, and Clayton is looking at the curb, taking aim. In the street, mostly obscured by the policeman, is another person in wheelchair. Caption reads: Three men prepare to chip away at a curb Monday to protest the difficulty handicapped people have in using Union Station in Hartford. The men are, from left, Claude Holcomb, John Bach and Clayton Jones. They were arrested, as was a fourth protester. [Headline] 4 arrested during protest by handicapped By Constance Neyer, Courant Staff Writer Four people, including three with disabilities, were arrested Monday after they used sledge-hammers and a cane to protest the lack of full accessibility for the handicapped at Union Station in Hartford. The four tried to break a curb on Union Street for a “curb cut" to give handicapped people easier access to that entrance to the station. Almost immediately after the start of the 2 p.m. demonstration police rushed in and put the protesters into a cruiser. The four men, who were charged Monday afternoon with third-degree criminal mischief, refused to sign written promises to appear in Superior Court in Hartford today and were being held at the Morgan Street jail Monday night, Hartford police Sgt. Lawrence Irvine said. Early this morning, the whereabouts of the men could not be determined. Morgan Street jail officials were unavailable and Weston Street jail officials refused to comment. Morgan Street jail is not accessible to the handicapped, Hartford police said. One of those arrested was Clayton Jones, 39, of 41 Applegate Lane, East Hartford, who led a recent protest in his wheelchair to make the skywalk that connects CityPlace with the Hartford Civic Center accessible to handicapped people. Also arrested were John Bach, 40, of 10 Nepaug St, Hartford; Robert Baston,27, of 100 Executive Lane, Wethersfield; and Claude Holcomb, 27, of 2 Park Place, Hartford. "We're equal citizens and we're tired of waiting." said Lynda Hanscom of Manchester, who uses a wheelchair. Hanscom is chairwoman of the Connecticut chapter of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation. She and others stayed at Union Station after police broke up the protest. They said that although handicapped people have access to the station, it is difficult to use. If a disabled person wants to use a train, the person must find parking near the Spruce Street entrance and enter here to get to a train, Hanscom said. The protestors said it is difficult for a disabled person to find the correct entrance because of a lack of signs at the station. A ramp at the Asylum Street side of the station is too steep for a person in a wheelchair, said Eugenia G. Evans of West Hartford, who was in a wheelchair. Evans and Hanscom sought to use a lift at the Union Street entrance, but it took more than [number unreadable] minutes for them to locate a building attendant who could use a key to operate the lift. Arthur L. Handman, executive director of the Greater Hartford Transit District, which operated Union Station, was angered by the protest. "People don't have to come attack with sledgehammers," he said. Handman said he told the protesters last week that it would take until later this week to make signs to point out the best entrances of the disabled. The station is near the end of a major renovation project. He said building plans for the station were approved by the office of licenses and inspection. If the ramp is too steep, that will be corrected, and more curb cuts will be made if needed, he said. - ADAPT (56)
Daily News 3/6/88 PHOTO by John McCoy, Daily News: Two men in wheelchairs [Bill Bolte on right and Charles Henderson on left] wield heavy sledge hammers on a curb. Behind them several other folks in wheelchairs hold signs as a man with a camera films the action. The signs read "Building A Better Way" and "Build Access for All." Caption reads: Charles Henderson, left and Bill Bole hammer at curb, demand wheelchair access to Walk of Fame Disabled protest lack of access by chipping Walk of Fame curbs By Beth Barrett, Daily News staff writer HOLLYWOOD —- About 40 people in wheelchairs took turns chipping at the Hollywood Walk of Fame Saturday in a symbolic attempt to create curb cuts for handicapped access to the famous sidewalk where stars bearing the names of celebrities are inlaid. "Walk of Shame," chanted members of the Southern California Chapter of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit as they gathered on Hollywood Boulevard. They then took turns using a sledgehammer and hammer to scar two curbs. Police officers made no arrests, partly because the damage was minimal, and also because city officials have indicated steps will be taken within the next two weeks to provide better access to the sidewalk, said Los Angeles police Lt. Dan Watson. Dianne Piastro, of North Hollywood, was among demonstrators who said the destruction was necessary to illustrate to public officials the need for curb cuts in Hollywood and elsewhere in the city. “We've been serving on committees, writing letters, and doing access studies for years, but have gotten nowhere," Piastro said. “No one gives you rights. You have to demand them." William Bolte, of Westchester, said the landmark Mann's Chinese Theater has tailored its restrooms so they can easily be reached and used by handicapped people, but that without curb cuts in the sidewalk those disabled individuals cannot get to the theater. Bolte said state and federal laws require curb cuts to be installed whenever existing sidewalks are remodeled, which ADAPT interprets to mean every time another celebrity star is set in the concrete. “The private sector's response is better than the public response.“ Bolte said. Yvonne Nau, a Tarzana woman who was the first person to swing the sledgehammer, said. “It felt constructive. We've asked for curb cuts. and gotten nothing.“ Following Saturday's protest, Bolte said the group intends to protest lack of access on a commuter bus between Orange County and Los Angeles. - ADAPT (47)
Rocky Mountain News March 26, 1977 News PHOTO by John Gordon: A small person (Mary Cisneros) with apparently no legs is seen from the back in wheelchair, wheeling through an empty lot. In the background is a clothes line with clothes hanging out to dry. [Headline] The beginning of a quiet war Once destined to spend her life in state institutions, Mary Cisneros, 25, is starting over. She lives in a Denver apartment and plans to become a tutor for the blind. Here, she's shown at the Atlantis Community, where she and others have found new hope. Atlantis is working on behalf of the disabled. Handicapped starting a 'quiet revolution' continued from.... ,,, the first time. For others, it means learning how to read and write. Mrs. Sue Sutherland, 23, is one of two women who tutor the Atlantis residents, using a special teaching machine developed by a University of Colorado professor. A staff of 27 persons, including some who were themselves rescued from institutional settings, provides attendant care. Their pay comes from the state and county attendant allowances of up to $217 per month to which many in Atlantis are entitled by law. A HOTLINE CONNECTS the housing units and the apartments of those no longer at Las Casitas, so residents can seek help quickly in emergencies. The job of manning the line is one of many tasks performed by the residents. Each is paid $50 a month, a figure arrived at because anything higher would oblige the recipients to involve themselves in red tape - and, in many cases, to lose the welfare payments they now receive. Most residents draw $184 a month in public assistance, most of it coming in the form of federal "SSI" payments. The rest comes from the state. From this, they pay $101 for room and board. Blank is the highest paid staff member. He gets about $8,000 a year from a combination of state and private grants. This leaves him eligible for food stamps. Administrator Mary Penland "gets paid when we can scrounge it up," and Kopp - who lives in Blank's house and has bought a third of it - hasn't been paid a dime of salary during his two years as co-director. Needless to say, Atlantis has made waves. lt has clashed with doctors who insist that the place for severely disabled persons is in an institution. And it has fought with those label people as "mentally retarded," saying the phrase is largely meaningless. "WE TOTALLY REFUSE to use that label here." says Blank. “We don't think the term is applicable to most young people. If they're retarded, it's socially retarded." Blank bubbles with excitement at the success stories of the people around him - those he proudly describes as “my circle of friends. “ And their affection for him is equally visible. There is Gary Van Lake. a 24-year-old Wyoming native who broke his neck in a 1973 car crash. Wyoming rehabilitation officials insisted he had no hope of returning to a normal life. "They told me I had reached my potential," he recalls. Coming to Denver to attend college, he wound up in a nursing home. Atlantis got him out and helped him get into Craig Hospital where he learned anew how to do things like go to the bathroom and drive a car. Now he has a specially equipped van, complete with an elevator for his electric wheelchair, and is engaged to marry in May. An outsider, viewing the rundown setting and the severity of the residents' physical problems, has to rely on their words and smiles to know how much their lives have improved. ONE TESTIMONIAL came from John Folks, 21, who has been paralyzed from the neck down since he was shot in June 1972. He breathes through a tube in his throat and uses a specially equipped telephone with a loudspeaker and a switch that he can trigger by moving his head to one side. Soon after Blank told how Folks had joined other Atlantis residents on a camping trip last summer. Folks explained how he felt about leaving the nursing home in which he lived for nine months before he came to Atlantis: “It's just like getting out of prison. lt is like starting over again. " Acknowledging that he and others at Atlantis “are somewhat egotistical" in their boasts of success, he adds: "We have to be to survive." But he also contends that the boasts are well-founded. For one thing, he notes, Atlantis has caught President Carter's fancy and could play a role in Carter's upcoming plans to revamp the welfare system. Last summer, when candidate Carter passed through Denver on the campaign trail, he met briefly with Atlantis officials. This week, two HEW aides from Washington came to Denver for a briefing on what Atlantis is doing. And a thick report, put together by Atlantis with an $82,500 federal grant, will go to Washington as Colorado's minority report at the White House Conference on Handicapped Individuals. The May event, planned when Gerald Ford was still president, is the first of its kind. lt is expected to set the stage for significant action by Congress to aid the nation's disabled citizens. The money for the Atlantis reports which was unveiled in February, came as a belated response to the original efforts of Blank and Kopp to get enough money so they could build Atlantis from the ground up. When the money came through in 1976, they knew it wouldn't be enough to get them out of Las Casitas. But they saw the value of a comprehensive report about the need of the disabled. ITS CONCLUSIONS are clear and blunt. Blunt as Wade Blanks words when he describes why Atlantis has the potential to be seen us model for the nation. “Our critics say all we have to offer is the slums," he noted a couple of days ago. "Yet 55 people are on our waiting list." "I think the nursing homes are going to have to start watching their words because the waiting list indicates, in essence, that these people would rather live in a slum than in a nursing home " NEXT: “We are demanding our rights." - ADAPT (40)
The Sunday Denver Post, Feb. 29 1976 The first article on this page is a continuation of the story in ADAPT 39. The entire story is included there for easier reading. Second Article Headline: Nursing Homes Depressing [Subheading] At Atlantis Quadriplegic Finds 'His Peace' by Fred Gillies He's paralyzed from the neck down, and a machine breathes for him. And generally he‘s confined to a bed or a wheelchair. Yet John Folks, 20, smiled warmly last week as he spoke of his new home at the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in southwest Denver. “Atlantis is freedom.“ John said with firm conviction as he lay in bed in his apartment at Atlantis. While John spoke, a steady clicking and sighing came from the respirator which has been his constant companion since he was shot in the back of the neck four years ago by an unknown assailant. The bullet severed the spine, resulting in paralysis of most of John's body. With evident displeasure, John recalled his more than three years in nursing homes. "At one of these homes," he said, "he was the only young person among all the elderly residents." "There was no one to talk to - I just watched TV,” John said. "It was really bad. . depressing. . ."But at Atlantis. I feel different. This is the type of people I feel good with." Atlantis, which has been in operation since last June at 2965 W. 11th Ave. came into being at the right time for John. Atlantis officials say John was turned down by 25 nursing homes before he decided to apply at Atlantis and was accepted three weeks ago. "It‘s hard to find a nursing home that will take a person with a breathing machine—it‘s too much care,“ John explained. And nursing homes, John said, don't look too kindly on a young person who wants to enjoy the normal things such as rock music, a beer when he feels like it and conversations with friends at late hours. When John is not confined to bed as he has been recently with the flu, he moves around in his specially equipped wheelchair which he steers with his chin. The wheelchair has a portable, battery-operated respirator which John must use most of the time. John shares his Atlantis apartment with another handicapped person. But he says he now has another prized freedom: he can be alone in his room from time to time. "This is your place. and no one else's." John said with a quiet fervor in his voice.