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Strona główna / Albumy / Birth of Atlantis 1974 24
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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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[This is a continuation of the brochure that starts on ADAPT 32. The full text of the brochure is included there for easier reading.] 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.
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[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.
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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
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The Denver Post, Thurs. Dec.11, 1975 p.57 PHOTO (Denver Post Photo): A man (Michael Smith) lies in his bed, wrapped in his sheets. He looks soulfully up at another person leaning over him. Caption reads: Mike Smith when he was confined to bed. Despite ravages of illness, he was able to write. Mike's Postcript: Poems in Print Michael Smith of Denver, a 21-year-old victim of muscular dystrophy, held firmly to the dream that one day a book of his poems would be published. That dream was realized this week — about 2.5 months after Mike died at the place he called home, the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver. At that time, a manuscript of Mike’s poems was being circulated to publishers. The poems were written during Mike’s last seven years, when he was living in nursing homes and was unable to lift pen to paper but dictated the poems to friends. A copy of the manuscript of his poems was cradled in Mike’s arms at his funeral and later when he was cremated. Afterward, it was determined that the poems would be published privately, with all profits- after printing and selling costs- going to the Atlantis Community. Mike’s book, titled "Companions" was published Monday and is available at bookstores and in book sections at department stores in downtown Denver and outlying areas, as well as at the Colorado University Extension Center and Metropolitan State College Bookstores. Mike lived long enough to hear the tribute paid to his poems by Thomas Hornsby Ferril of Denver, who recently was named Colorado's Centennial poet. Some of the perceptions and imagery in the poems are "near genius," Ferril said after reading the manuscript. Mike's book contains 32 poems, many of which are dedicated to Mike's companions- the handicapped persons he had known in nursing homes and later at Atlantis. In his last months, Mike progressively weakened and was confined to bed, depending to a great extent on an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. Despite the ravages of his illness, Mike was able to write affirmatively: "Our there in the blackness is a porthole that reaches into the worlds of brilliant light. There are souls there whose beauty reaches beyond any mortal eye " And vowing to go beyond this, Mike wrote: "like an arrow shot from a mighty bow, I shall fly into the heart of the most holy of holies.. Home is where I'll be."
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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.
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Brochure cover for ADAPT 32 and 33. A History of Liberation Picture of ADAPT Flag in middle of page. This flag is like an American flag, however instead of stars in the blue rectangle it has the outline of a person in a wheelchair made from stars. Atlantis Community, Inc. in a rainbow ribbon.
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The Denver Post - Thursday October 2, 1975 [Headline] Muscular Dystrophy Wins Battle [Subheading] Mike Died at Atlantis - a Dream Come True by Fred Gillies Michael Smith died Wednesday afternoon in the place where he wanted to be - the Atlantis Community in Denver. Atlantis was Mike's dream come true: a fledgling community where he and 13 other handicapped persons could live in dignity as individuals, attempting to realize their full potential. But the dream died Wednesday for Mike as muscular dystrophy, the dark angel that lived with him for most of his slightly more than 21 years, won the final battle. Mike and other Atlantis residents came into the public view late in June when a Denver Post story told of the hardships they were suffering as the result of bureaucratic bungling which had delayed the Social Security checks the Atlantis residents needed to pay their living expenses there. At that time, Mike was semiconscious and not expected to live. But he later rallied, as he had three other times in the past year when he was close to death. For the past three months, Mike generally had been confined to his bed and most of the time used an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. In recent weeks, Mike had started composing poetry again — one of his favorite pastimes and the one that seemed to allow, him to escape from the physical helplessness forced upon him by muscular dystrophy. Mike also was following closely the progress of a legal action that he and other handicapped persons had filed in Denver federal court to ensure the handicapped the same rights as all other persons. And with the help of Atlantis staff members, Mike was planning his first vacation in many years: a plane trip to Houston, Texas. Two of the Atlantis staff were to accompany him there. But last Sunday night, Mike's condition suddenly worsened. His kidneys apparently had started to shut down. Carbon dioxide was building up in his body, affecting the brain and causing respiratory problems. Mike was taken Monday to Denver General Hospital, where blood tests were completed. But Atlantis officials said doctors at the hospital concluded that there wasn't much that could be done. And Mike was adamant: he didn't want to undergo another operation to cut into his windpipe to ease his breathing just a little longer. He didn’t want to be hooked up to all kinds of machines and medical equipment. He wanted to be left alone and to he allowed to die in peace and at Atlantis. Mike was permitted to "come home" to Atlantis on Tuesday. But now he was required to wear a full face mask utilizing a nebulizer which sprayed a mixture of oxygen and water steadily into his weakening lungs. On Wednesday morning, Mike twice had been taken off the nebulizer briefly while adjustments were made, and there were no complications, Wade Blank, Atlantis co-director said. But Wednesday afternoon, after the nebulizer had been removed for another swift adjustment, Mike died. “He relaxed, went to sleep and just stopped breathing," said his mother, Mrs. Joanne Davis of Central City, Colo., who was with him. Mike’s mother will fulfill his wish that the only flowers at his funeral be one red rose which she will provide and keep afterward. Mike also had asked that persons planning to send flowers for his funeral might instead send donations to Atlantis at 2965 W. 11th Ave. Early last July, Mike and a friend put together a book of about 35 of Mike's poems, written over the past seven years. At the time of Mike's death, the manuscript still was being circulated among publishers. One of these poems - “With the Wind, I Leave" - tells of Mike’s leaving his love, “leaving the oceans, fields and mountains that were my life.” But then he tells of finding "a peace and wisdom that no one can take away.” And the poem concludes with Mike's quiet admonition: "So when you remember me, think of the oceans, fields and mountains. Think of the wind that blows in the spring and you will know that I am free." Services for Mike will be at 2 p.m. Saturday at the Olinger Mortuary, 16th and Boulder Sts. A copy of Mike's book of poems will be with him when he is cremated, as he had wished. Denver Post PHOTO: A thin young man (Mike Smith) lies in bed wrapped in sheets. His long dark hair is laid out on the pillow above his head, and his dark eyebrows, beard and moustache frame his features. He looks with a burning intensity up and someone (mostly out of the picture), who is holding a book. Caption reads: Mike Smith Listens as His Poetry is Read. He was photographed in June after moving to Atlantis.
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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].