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Domov / Albumi / Naključne slike 5
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- 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 (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 (103)
RTD Executive Promises To Try Wheelchair Bus Travel Firsthand ATLANTIS From 1-B The Handi Ride, 12 buses which provide curb-to-curb service for 150 handicapped persons each day on a flexible schedule, was to have been eliminated in July. It will be retained for the rest of the year, Kimball said. Starting in July, 334 buses equipped with wheelchair lifts — plus the Handi Ride - will circulate on more than two dozen routes, the RTD official said. Specially equipped buses now operate on only 11 routes. He also promised that the Handi Ride program would continue until another program has been developed. The official also told the group that “RTD alone can’t solve all (their) transportation problems" and urged them to think in terms of a “regional consensus” of agencies dealing with the disabled. He also suggested that they seek state funding. Spokesmen for the Atlantis Community for the disabled, one of the parties to the lawsuit, on Wednesday declared the Handi Ride shouldn't be phased out, and many attending the session agreed. They included Don Burton, executive director of United Cerebral Palsy, who said he feared many disabled persons would lack access to community services; Barb Sokol, a social worker with Western Dialysis Center, who said other transit alternatives weren't “as reliable or flexible,” and a number of handicapped persons, who asked for continuation or expansion of the service. Teresa Breda, executive director of Holistic Approaches to Independent Living (HAIL), said, “In no way do I want Handi Ride to stop. “But that’s just one segment of transportation services tor the disabled,' she noted, adding that it was “one part of a lot of needs.” - ADAPT (106)
[Headline] Handicapped Praise Wheelchair Service Sun. July 12, 1981, Denver, Colo. Rocky Mountain News- 65 (Continued from page 64) Even so, Conrardy said he has heard only one able-bodied passenger complain during his daily commuting trips. Offsetting that experience, Conrardy said, was an incident one afternoon at Colfax and Broadway. A crowded rush-hour bus stopped, and Conrardy said he told the driver he would wait for another bus because that one was too full. But the other passengers made room and invited him aboard, Conrardy said. The fear of hostility from other passengers or simply getting lost has kept some handicapped people from trying the new service, said Laurie Warner, co-director of education for Atlantis. For the couple of minutes it takes the lift to get them on or off the bus, the handicapped passenger is the center of attention for everyone on the bus, Warner said. And that can feel like “being on the grill,” Conrardy said. News Photo by Jose R. Lopez: A man (Mel Conrardy) in a short sleved plaid shirt and kaki pants sits in his motorized wheelchair on the sidewalk, his chin in his hand looking at a big bus. Behind him, further up the sidewalk, a line of people board the bus as the driver holds the door. caption reads: Mel Conrardy waits at Broadway and Colfax for an RTD bus with a wheelchair lift. An organization for the handicapped says the news lifts are a boon for handicapped and can provide an education for the bus drivers and the public, Conrardy says most people are patient during the two minutes it takes for the lift to operate when it is working properly. - ADAPT (223)
MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way.