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Pradžia / Albumai / Paieškos rezultatai 27
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- US_Capitol_Rotunda_part_2_cap
This is part 2 of the ADAPT Capitol Rotunda protest in support of the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA. This shows the group preparing for civil disobedience to pressure swift passage of the bill. Over 100 people were arrested at this protest, which gets less attention than the Crawl but was equally intense. The film is open captioned (as are all videos on this museum site). - ADAPT (635)
Different TIMES, September 24, 1990, p. 6 ADAPT fights for attendant services (Reprinted with permission from the Disability Rag; Box 145; Louisville, KY 40201.) [This story continues on 623 but the text is included here in full, for ease of reading.] “People with disabilities have the civil and human right to dependable attendant services that meet our daily needs in the location and manner of our choice." This simple declaration, made in Denver this summer, signaled the offensive being launched by ADAPT against “the nursing home lobby feeding off peoples' lives." It's ironic, says ADAPT member Mark Johnson. "Here we've finally got our rights now, in a law, and here you have more and more severely disabled people wanting to kill themselves—literally kill themselves—because they're being forced into nursing homes." “That Ken Bergstedt in Nevada [who petitioned the court in May to disconnect his respirator] is literally saying, “l'll end my life before I'll go in a nursing home," Johnson said. “What do you expect when people only have institutionalization to look forward to?" adds actress Nancy Becker Kennedy, one of the group that conducted a hunger strike in Los Angeles in July to protest the cut of California’s In Home Supportive Services. “Their attempts to stay in their homes are thwarted." lt’s the same with Georgia's highly publicized Larry McAfee, who was just put into a “group home," says ADAPT. Even after all the publicity, the State of Georgia will not put any money into funding attendant services in one's own home. And ADAPT is fed up. Recalling the phrase the transit industry used to argue that each city should decide whether or not to put lifts on buses, ADAPT calls the patchwork system of funding in-home services “the old ‘local option’ stuff all over again." “We're sick of it,"says Johnson. There needs to be a national commitment. In California, activists battled for several months to restore their In Home Support Services program which had been entirely cut from the state budget—and succeeded only in restoring it to its former level, which allows a disabled person to hire an attendant only at minimum wage and for no more than eight hours a day. People who need an attendant around the clock, like Ken Bergstedt, have little hope of avoiding a nursing home even in California, often cited as the state with the best attendant services program in the nation. Yet such battles sap the energy of disability activists for the larger fight for a national commitment. ADAPT has modified its former name, “American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation" to “American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today" to reflect its new focus. ADAPT says attendant services are a right. The group wants the program it's calling for to make attendant services available "based on functional need" rather than “whether a person can work or not." They don't want "employability" to be a "condition for getting services. And they don't want eligibility based on any specific disability, as it is in many states now. They want it to be available “to people of all ages, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with back-up emergency services."They stress they're not asking for “someone to hold your hand" but are speaking of the realistic needs of people like McAfee, Rick Tauscher, and Bergstedt who need an attendant available around the clock. They also say a program that allows the disabled person maximum control over an attendant is mandatory. Maybe a disabled person won’t want that control; maybe they'll want someone else to handle the paperwork and hiring decisions. That should be the disabled person‘s option, they say. There’s a quality-control issue here, they insist; they want to make sure disabled people get quality care but are allowed maximum say over personal services they receive—which is all too often not the case today as home "health" agencies muscle their way into the home "care" field. They‘re sick of the word “care.” They want a program that doesn’t keep anyone from services because they make too much money; they're willing, they say, to deal with a sliding scale for fees for such a program; but they want it available to anyone who needs it—regardless of income. It's a right, and cost is simply not an issue, they say. Keeping disabled people in institutions is ludicrously more expensive than providing in-home services in this country today. They blame that lack for the problems Larry MeAfee's constantly found himself in; they blame the nursing home industry for siphoning off the money that could go to fund such services. And they charge that home health agencies are nothing more than “the new nursing homes." Home health agencies “take people on Medicare and give them services and then bill them for $60 a pop," says ADAPT organizer Wade Blank. “Then when their Medicare coverage runs out after six months, they drop ‘em." The group says it’s also targeting “the big insurance companies like Prudential" and health maintenance organizations, who they say have a vested interest in keeping the system like it is. “We're saying that ethically and morally, nursing homes are not the place to go," says Blank. “When I see my severely disabled friends, living in their own homes, when l visit them in their apartments, listen with them to records or order in a pizza—and then I see my friends living in nursing homes, wasting away, waiting to die, I get very, very angry,” said Southern California ADAPT member Lilibeth Navarro. A survey of ADAPT members through their newsletter, Incitement, led them to decide to shift the focus to attendant services, said Navarro. And they're emphatic about the term too. “It’s not ‘attendant care‘ anymore," said Blank. “Whenever anybody said ‘care’ everybody booed,“ he added. It is fitting that ADAPT, whose original members came from Denver‘s Atlantis Community, will focus on attendant services. It was that need which led to the start of Atlantis, a “community” of disabled people and attendants. Atlantis “has a neat system,"agrees Navarro, noting that the 24-hour rotary attendant services allows any Atlantis person to have an attendant available whenever it's needed. “We could call an attendant at 11:30 p.m. and have somebody here," she said. “People who are having trouble with attendants can call and get an emergency back-up." Navarro, like others, said she knew of people “who endured abuse because they were afraid to lose their attendant"—"because it's so hard to find somebody, and nobody to turn to in an emergency situation." She related the story of a man whose attendant simply walked out on him and left him, unable even to reach a phone, for four days. “If his father hadn't checked on him, he'd be dead." “Only a national attendant program," she stressed, “will free us from emotional slavery Nancy Becker Kennedy agreed with Navarro. “The linchpin for independent living is in-home attendant services. It’s humane; it gives us a future." The group has sent a letter to Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan demanding a meeting in Atlanta Oct. 1; they've given Sullivan until Aug. 15 to reply. ADAPT activists from around the nation will descend on Atlanta the first week of October to launch the fight. They’ll be calling for a quarter of the money now going to the nursing home industry to “go into a pot for attendant services." As usual, ADAPT doesn’t expect this to happen without a fight -- primarily from the “nursing home lobby.” “This October," says Blank, “we will serve notice on those groups who are the enemies of a national attendant services program." TEXT BOX: ADAPT will converge on Atlanta — home of Morehouse College, HHS Secretary Louis Sullivan’s alma mater — on Sept. 28 for week-long direct action protest and training. Nationally known organizer Shel Trapp will conduct the session Saturday, Sept. 29. For more information on travel and hotel arrangements, contact ADAPT in Denver at (303) 936-1110. — Reprinted with permission from the Disability Rag; Box 145; Louisville, KY 40201. - 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. - With Liberty & Access For All
This is a short demo film by Linda Litowsky that tells about ADAPT and our first campaign for lifts on buses and passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act. It was made to promote a longer film she made so it ends abruptly. However it is a good overview of early ADAPT and has been used in many organizer trainings and presentations. - ADAPT (640)
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1990 Disabled protesters seize college building (This article continues in ADAPT 632, the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A thin man, Claude Holcomb, sits in a dark motorized chair in front of a huge memorial to Martin Luther King. He sits at an angle in his chair, in a button down striped shirt, his knees wide apart and thin rigid hands resting on his arm rests. Behind him the white memorial reads In memory of Martin Luther King Jr., 1929 - 1968, Outstanding alumnus of Morehouse College ..., World famous leader of the non-violent movement ..., Distinguished winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. From Morehouse College he launched his humanitarian pilgrimage to create the beloved community and for that purpose he moved... the classroom and his pulpit ... into immortality. ...Baptist Convention ... President ... General Secretary... College. Claude's chair blocks the view of some of the memorial's verbiage. You can see the push handle and part of the wheel of another chair next to him. Caption reads: Claude Holcomb at the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial at Morehouse College. Protesters compared their struggle to the civil rights leader's. Morehouse president’s office blocked By Ben Smith III, Staff writer Saying Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would smile on their protest, nearly 200 disabled activists on Monday seized the administration building on the campus where he was educated. The demonstrators, members of Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT), a national advocacy group for the disabled, took over Gloster Hall at Morehouse College in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the school president’s office. “This is a college that has always valued human rights,” said Michael Auberger, a co-founder of the group. “This is another minority that is trying to gain its human rights.” The protest was intended to force Morehouse President Leroy Keith to arrange a meeting with Louis Sullivan, secretary of Health and Human Services and an alumnus and former dean of the Morehouse School of Medicine. Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," said Mr. Auberger. More than a dozen wheelchair-bound activists rolled into Dr. Keith's office before noon Monday and barricaded the door. Scores of additional protesters followed, chanting, “We want Sullivan" and "We shall overcome,” and blocked the front door and hallways. Late in the afternoon, Dr. Keith exited through a rear door, and many other employees left the building. College officials said they were puzzled that the demonstrators took their protest to the Morehouse College administration building instead of the Morehouse School of Medicine, which is a separate institution. Richard Ammons, a school spokesman, said Dr. Keith had contacted Dr. Sullivan, who said he would not meet with the protesters. But the regional director of Department of Health and Human Services agreed to meet with demonstrators in his office today, Mr. Ammons added. “We as an institution are powerless to do anything other than [contact Dr. Sullivan],” Mr. Ammons told the protesters. “And we are asking you to leave at this time." Lee Jackson, a demonstrator, replied, “We’re going to wait right here for Sullivan.” At least 50 demonstrators said they planned to remain in the building until Dr. Sullivan meets with them or they are arrested. School officials said the college was reluctant to have the protesters arrested. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Some students who were locked out of Gloster Hall complained about the protesters, but others called their objections “hypocritical” because of the school's civil rights tradition. "Anytime you're dealing with basic human rights, protests may inconvenience some people," said Otis Moss, 20, a Morehouse philosophy and religion major. “But you have to understand that ultimately it's going to benefit all." Staff writer Lyle Harris contributed to this report. Photo by Johnny Crawford/Staff: The front of an ADAPT march. On the left side are the ADAPT marchers, most in wheelchairs, on the right, a line of parked cars at the side of the street the group is marching down. First in line is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt and in a manual chair. He is African American and has his head shaved completely bald; he looks very intense. He is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger in his motorized wheelchair with his left leg fully extended with foot in a protective boot; he's wearing a black ADAPT shirt still with the no steps logo. Behind him is Clayton Jones wearing the black ADAPT shirt and in a manual chair. Behind him you can see Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood. As the line snakes back from there you can see more people in the black T-shirts but their faces become less distinct until the whole group fades away. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. There is a second photo in the text of the article, a close up of an African American man's face. He is wearing a suit and tie. Below it is the caption: Leroy Keith. - ADAPT (744)
The Disability Rag July/August, 1992 [This article continues on ADAPT 738, 733,728, 724, 748, 743 and finally 737; however the entire text is included here for easier reading. ] Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman holds a wooden barricade while another tries to pull a protester who is lying on the ground by his pants legs backward and out from under the barricade. The protester is holding onto something above his head. On one side a third policeman seems to be coming over and on the other side a man (Frank Lozano) and his guide dog (Frazier) are coming over. Title: On the barricades With ADAPT by Mary Johnson photos by Tom Olin “I am tired of rules and regulations. And them telling me what you have to do. None of them has worked for me as good as being at home. In nursing homes, they put you on sleeping pills to keep you from getting aggravated with what will occur. “You can’t pay —— you don’t have any money to pay an attendant at night, when you’re on SSI. All of these things they’re constantly cutting. I haven’t been in a nursing home for 15 years — and I don’t plan to go.” It's Saturday night in Chicago. Nearly 300 ADAPT members have gathered in a meeting room in Chicago’s Bismarck hotel, getting ready for the group’s May 1992 assault on the Windy City. People are telling their stories. Many are there because there was a nursing home in their past — or they don’t want one in their future. The next day the group will swoop down on the University of Chicago's commencement exercises. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan is speaking, and some in the group can't believe their late-breaking good fortune at getting another shot at hassling the Secretary who has steadfastly refused to meet with them to discuss redirecting Medicaid funds to in-home attendant services. A planned Mother's Day March to a graveyard — to symbolize how this nation kills its mothers in nursing homes — is cancelled. “I was never for that dead stuff anyway," ADAPT organizer Mike Auberger says. The week's events are debated. Somebody wants to know why they see police taking photos of them whenever there's an ADAPT action. There's an attorney available for people who get arrested, the group is told; they‘re given his name, as well as ADAPT organizers to contact if they get arrested. “I’m telling you — and it’s the most important thing I'm gonna say." Auberger warns the group. “have your medications with you if you're going to get arrested. Have ‘em labelled. No pill boxes; bottles. Make sure it has your name on it — nobody else's. Make sure there’s no illegal substances on you; no weapons. ‘Cos this is going to follow us down the road.” As it turned out, Chicago was mild compared to Orlando's confrontations last fall, in which nearly all ADAPT activists were thrown in jail — some in solitary confinement — for the week. In Chicago, only 10 people would be cited and fined in Monday’s confrontation at the HHS regional offices in downtown Chicago, and only 4 police-tagged “leaders” arrested the next day at American Medical Association headquarters; all were released at day’s end. Perhaps the national outrage in the wake of the Rodney King beating acquittal in Los Angeles a few weeks before had made Chicago police, considered to be some of the most brutal, cautious. The University of Chicago graduation turns out to be a beautiful Chicago spring day. Police and Secret Service are allowing ADAPT members into the auditorium without any hassle. Later, though, Jim Parker is asked to leave. He protests loudly as police haul him out a side door: “Why am l the only one being asked to leave?” About that time Tim Carver of Tennessee simply rolls off into the men's room, unnoticed, to wait out the sweep. Several ADAPT members unfurl a large FREE OUR PEOPLE banner over the wall below their seats, off in the “handicapped section" where the Secret Service have relegated them. Big burly Secret Service men with their walkie-talkies run over quickly and reach down to pull it up. Bob Kafka and Allen Haines are as determined that they won’t succeed. A kind of arm wrestling match ensues with Kafka and Haines holding firmly to the banner to keep it hanging over the wall where it forms a backdrop to the stage area where Sullivan will be speaking. The Secret Service have the advantage of leverage; they’re taller. One especially burly guy finally wrests the pole with its banner away from them and with a contemptuous jerk, flings it high into the bleachers behind them. “Clear ‘em out," mutters an all-business police captain. Four cops to a chair seems to be the agreed-on method of removal. Paulette Patterson of Chicago is removed this way. Over on the side, Anita Cameron and Jim Parker, back in and out of his wheelchair, and Frank Lozano, minus dog Frazier, are scooting down the steps on a side tier, trying to make it down to where Sullivan will speak, but they're caught and removed, too. “Get as close to the doors as possible,” says Bob Kafka to the other activists who have now been ejected from the back of the building. With police blocking doors. clots of ADAPT move to every entrance. Well, almost every one. Jean Stewart and Eleanor Smith use Stewart's crutches to pound on the metal doors, trying to create a disturbance inside, as the graduation ceremonies begin. Inside, though, the noise is barely audible. Nancy Moulton of Atlanta is sitting quietly on the ground, leaning on a door, with her guide dog Nan beside her. “Get up,” say a blue shirted Chicago cop. Moulton doesn‘t move. Nan rests her head on Moulton’s leg and rolls her eyes up at the cop towering over them. Now there are 4 Chicago cops and one guy who must be from the Secret Service hanging over Moulton and her dog. “If you don't move, we’ll have to grab you. and the dog will attack,” the cop persists. Still Moulton sits. “If you’re concerned about the dog, move!” the cop barks. Moulton gets up, worried that the cops will hurt Nan. While some block doors, others pass out leaflets to latecomers. The chants of “hey hey, ho. ho, nursing homes have got to go!" change to “We want Sullivan!" The police have barricaded the exit with blue sawhorses that read “police line." A pickup truck from the University's facilities management is unloading yellow university police barricades. A lady inside the back of the auditorium, hearing the faint chanting coming from outside, mutters, “they're not making friends." She‘s with the university. The University of Chicago is so large that commencement is held in two shifts; a morning one and an afternoon one. Sullivan has finished speaking and the crowd is emerging from the pavilion. They walk down the long fence of police barricades, while ADAPT chants and hands them leaflets: “Wanted: Sullivan. For crimes against disabled people." Inset picture: Beefy policeman with his cap down over his nose leaning forward. Caption: “If you care about your dog, move!” Article continues: It's lunch. ADAPT always feeds its activists. Today it‘s Burger King. Attendants and other walkies pass out cokes and burgers. Nan, Moulton’s dog, gets some much welcomed ice cubes from the big bag under the tree, put into the little folding plastic water bowl Moulton carries with her. A new crowd is coming to the arena. They, too, get leaflets and chants. Tim Craven has been ejected when police found him inside, but not before he and the other two who had hidden themselves in the press box get off a few good chants in Sullivan’s direction. A reporter for Habilitation, a disability magazine out of Seattle, has marched up to Sullivan, she reports, and asked him the questions ADAPT has so long wanted to ask him. To every single question, she says, he has responded, “It's a very nice day." Most of the students don‘t want to talk to a reporter. They have no comment. Some think that it‘s wrong of ADAPT to spoil their special day. Others think the group has a right to make itself heard — just not here, not now. One woman who has read the flyers says that "they don‘t want to be prisoners in nursing homes." A man, who hasn‘t read one, says he doesn’t know what they're protesting about but he thinks they have a right to do it. His daughter is graduating today —— with a degree in special education. Each ADAPT contingent blocking an entrance has its contingent of cops. The two `groups` joke with each other and pass the time in small talk. It's a lot like a chess game, says Haines; this trying to puzzle out where Sullivan‘s going to exit. Just about the time it occurs to several of the organizers who have been trying to psych out from which exit Sullivan will be spirited away that the one exit that has no guards on it is the parking lot entrance, a police car comes screaming down the street, makes an abrupt U-turn, and, at that moment, Sullivan's car, driven by Secret Service, shoots out of the entrance. Several ADAPT wheelers are on his tail in a flash, but it's too late. Sullivan again escapes— but the point, say the activists, has been well made to the over 10,000 people who have attended. Thousands of flyers have been passed out. PHOTO by Tom Olin: Inside a cavernous arena filled with people, two plain clothes police or Secret Service men have an ADAPT person (Bob Kafka) by the arms and are trying to lift him. He is sitting on the steps of an aisle leaning forward. To their right a young man in a button up shirt and jeans, a graduate, looks down at them. Caption reads: Getting to see Sullivan. Not. ADAPT makes no effort to block the streets surrounding the Pavilion. Monday‘s a different story. By 11am, both State and Adams Streets are blocked. Downtown Chicago is taking the flyers as fast as they’re being passed out. Many of them are surprisingly in agreement with ADAPT’s call for 25% of the current Medicaid money to be redirected to in-home services. One businessman engages Bob Kafka in a long and intense discussion over the merits of attendant services. He has buddies who were in Viemam, he says, and want the same thing Kafka does. He gives Kafka his card. Many other people are giving ADAPT members their cards, too; they are interested in the issue. Nobody, they say, has brought it up before. Certainly not the Chicago Tribune, which, instead of covering the baccalaureate brouhaha, runs a feature story on a college camp-out. “What I‘m looking for is a reasonable atmosphere to address the issues." Delilah Brummet Flaum, HHS’s Region V Director, would have to shout to make herself heard over downtown Chicago traffic and hundreds of milling demonstrators. And she‘s not shouting. She has come down, along with Chester Stroyny. Regional Director of the HealthCare Financing Administration and HCFA official David DuPre. in response to ADAPT demands. They want to meet with “officials”; they’ve blockaded the Region V HHS headquarters and aren‘t letting anyone in or out — unless they're willing to climb and crawl over protesters. About 20 activists have gotten all the way up to the HHS offices on the 15th floor, and have a bunch of police in there with them. It’s lunchtime by the time Flaum, Stroyny and DuPre are trotted out to Karen Tamley, Bob Kafka and Teresa Monroe and the others in the middle of Adams Street. ADAPT wants them to call Sullivan, to make him come back to Chicago and meet with them. Flaum can’t do that. “I am willing to do anything else you want us to do. to do try to get this resolved,” she’s saying. But she wants the group to be "more reasonable." She tells Tamley that she is “well aware" of ADAPT’s concerns, and that “the Bush Administration is working on non-institutional care options." Anna Stonum asks more questions. People in the crowd are starting to yell that they can’t hear. Flaum is telling Kafka that “shutting down a building“ is not the way to get a meeting with Sullivan. Kafka responds that they‘ve sent at least four letters to Sullivan and he's never responded to a single one. “You know as well as I do that the Secretary sets the tone for the discussion,“ Kafka lectures her. Kafka and DuPre engage in a debate about facts and figures. They can't trip Kafka up; he seems to know as much if not more about the issue than these folks do. At times the officials even seem to agree with him. Not, however, when he charges that “nothing the Secretary has said or done" changes anything “because he's in the pocket of the nursing home industry." “We disagree with that," say all three officials simultaneously. “We do favor the de-institutionalization model." “The damn Secretary has not said one thing — ever - has not even said the word ‘attendant services’ publicly," Kafka yells, and swears that ADAPT will continue to hold the building. “This is not being positive," says Flaum. “These are peoples' lives you’re talking about.” Kafka retorts. Photo Inset: The head of Bob Kafka, looking very intense, below the words "The damn Secretary has never even said the word 'attendant services' publicly." Article continues: “You don’t know what it’s like,” Monroe shouts at the officials when Kafka's done. “I want to talk to Sullivan. You get him here. He has no idea. Don't tell me Sullivan knows.” Monroe’s point, which she makes to Flaum, is that the money should go directly to the disabled person “because no person knows better what they need than the disabled person. Let us have our dignity.” She argues with Stroyny over nursing home inspections. Mark Johnson accuses Sullivan of “being in the pocket of the nursing homes.“ And meetings like this, he charges, aren’t worth a thing “unless there’s a commitment." The group, hearing Johnson, takes the cue: “We want a commitment!" One of the workers in the HHS office has come out for lunch and now finds she cannot get back in over the demonstrators. Still, she thinks what they're doing is “positive.” She’s a volunteer in a nursing home herself, she says, “And I know they’re the pits. People who don't frequent them don't know. These people who are walking around here” — she gestures to lunch-hour Chicagoans moving up and down the street-- “they could become victims of nursing homes, too. I look at these people here" —— and now she means ADAPT — “and I know I wouldn’t want to be jailed up in a nursing home." But then, she believes in protesting, she says. “I think protests are fine. I'm in tune with them. I was with Martin Luther King back in the 60s." she says. “I was in jail with Dr. King. I was 14 years old. That was just what you did; you went to jail. Some of our young people don't understand. “This is how to explain it,” she continues, warming to her subject. “These people want to get heard. We couldn’t get heard in Birmingham, either. That‘s why we marched on Washington." She won’t identify herself, though, but will only say she’s a spectator. But she works upstairs in the HHS office, she says. “And they got time to listen to that TV stuff — people come in talking about that, they make a big deal about the stuff they see on TV. And they got these people out here and they don‘t want to pay attention. When I was upstairs, they were callin’ ‘em ‘beasts’ and “vultures.” It is a measure of the erosion of belief in the system that has become the trademark of ADAPT that, when an EMS ambulance pulls up to the door and the word goes out that police are bringing down a man who’s had a heart attack, the thought passes among the group that this is yet another ploy. They think the stretcher rolled into the lobby and up on the elevator may be a ruse to make them move away from the door, which they nonetheless do, not wanting it to be said that they cared not for another disabled person who might be in danger. And when the man is brought down on the stretcher, there is more speculation: wasn’t he one of the officials out here earlier? Did the confrontation and excitement give him a heart attack? Is he faking? Is it really a medical emergency, or just :1 move to get someone out of the building who has an important meeting to attend and doesn't want it stopped by cripples? No one remembers the man in the stretcher more than a few minutes after the ambulance pulls away, lights rotating, into the Chicago traffic. Jane Garza from El Hogar del Nino is with the protesters. blocking a door by leaning against it. She’s part of the protest. she says: disabled herself, though she knows she doesn’t look it. She works in early childhood education. Some of the signs protesters are carrying were made by the children at her center, she says. “It's a way to bring them into it," she points out. The parents of the disabled kids at the center “are all reasonable people,” she says. “So they understand my being at an activity like this." If she gets arrested, she says, she has an understanding with her agency: they will bail her out. She’s been arrested with ADAPT before. she says; that was in Montreal. She’s been with ADAPT protests in Washington — the one to get the ADA passed; and one in St. Louis. “No one wants to see their child in a nursing home. People can really relate to that." She says the group at her door has been talking to passersby all day about the issue. “I was on the verge of going into a nursing home myself, back in ’82.” says this woman who doesn’t look disabled. When she had her aneurism and was in rehabilitation, she says, the Illinois Department of Rehabilitation Services gave her money with which she was able to pay two people — one for the morning, and one for the evening. “I just needed help getting up and then getting to bed. I was so weak. I just needed minimal assistance, somebody there to help me get dressed. But without that program. they would have put me in a nursing home.” Illinois Gov. Jim Edgar’s budget cuts have forced the Department of Rehabilitation Services to extend a freeze on intakes in that program through the end of 1993. and Edgar, Chicago ADAPT charges, is trying to eliminate a yearly cost-of-living adjustment for attendants. "After I got stronger, I was able to manage on my own. But look at how many people are in my shoes!” she says. “I worked; I had money. I was a social worker back then: one who had to apply for public aid just so I could get assistance." Insert picture: A person (possibly Lonnie Smith) with his head to one side and below the words “We want them to see what it’s like for us.” Article continues... The philosophy and tactic of doorblocking: Let people go in and out, if they’re willing to climb over you and your chair to do it. Arrest is not the objective here; inconveniencing people is. “We want them to see what it's like for us.” says one who has engaged in many door blockings. Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman stands in the middle of the street legs braced in a wide stance and arms streched out. He is holding a man with a cane (Gary Bosworth) with one hand and with the other hand and foot trying to hold back a man (Bob Kafka) in a manual wheelchair who is bent forward pushing. Other police officers are standing in the street, a supervisor is watching, as is a TV cameraman. Other protesters are partially visible at the edges of the scene. Chicago police have a black and white checkered band around their hats that is very distinctive. Article continues- Tuesday morning's Chicago Tribune, instead of covering ADAPT's HHS confrontation. reports on stepped-up security measures at the downtown State of Illinois building where. the Tribune reports, in error, ADAPT was "supposed" to be demonstrating Monday. ADAPT, it says, changed its mind. In fact, ADAPT planned to hit state offices on Wednesday. Speculation abounds as to who fed the paper the false information, the effect of which is to make ADAPT look disorganized. It later becomes apparent that state officials have had a hand in it. There is nothing in the Tribune about the people who stopped along State Street and asked questions, about Flaum, about any of it. The Sun-Times carries a photo inside. At the comer of State and Grant, a baby-blue police wrecker, the same blue as the cars, as the barricades, has blocked a curb ramp. ADAPT has blocked four intersections adjacent to the American Medical Association. Wheelchairs are stretched across 16 streets. At the intersection of Wabash and Grand, in the back, Paulette Patterson is hassling the policemen, mouthing off and chasing them with her motorized chair. It seems she is trying to get arrested. The police are being friendly enough. It won't be until noon that things will get rough. The cops will barricade the main entrances to the glass-walled fortress: many ADAPT members will take that as their cue to launch themselves out of their wheelchairs onto the high-curbed stoop around the building, crawling up to bang and hammer on the wooden barricades. A few find satisfaction in pounding on the glass walls. This will happen, though, only after the confrontation — the confrontation that resulted in Jerry Eubanks of Chicago being dropped from his wheelchair: picked up by his neck, it seems to other protesters, who holler for an “Ambulance! Now!”; the confrontation that causes Patterson to roll from her wheelchair and shriek at the top of her lungs, kicking her legs wildly as police try to pick her up. The police back off; when they come at her again, her screams again drive them back. Finally, Patterson is left alone, and, once more in her wheelchair, rolls off to the side, where she admits slyly and with her trademark smile that she enjoys discomfiting police. “They don't wanna mess with me," she says proudly. Suddenly they are all there again, surging at the entrance, trying to get up the high curb. Stephanie Thomas and Diane Coleman and others are wedging themselves in next to the Chicago Transit Authority paratransit vehicles that are a sure sign of arrests: it's the only way police can haul off a wheelchair to the hoosegow. Allen Leegant is diving under a barricade trying to get up to the entrance. Chris Hronis and Arthur Campbell are trying to follow; they are caught by police. Campbell is carried, spread-eagle, by four cops, directly to a CT A van. Cameras are everywhere; TV crews have materialized out of nowhere. Campbell has been arrested. Mike Auberger has been arrested. Campbell and Auberger are each put into his own van. The police have their eye on Mike Ervin. When you catch a snatch of cop-to-cop talk, you learn they're trying to pick off those they figure to be the leaders. “What the cops never understand is why the demonstration continues after they’ve hauled off the folks they think are leaders," says someone who is blocking a street. “They can’t figure out that arresting leaders doesn’t work; that as soon as they arrest someone, somebody else just moves in." Susan Nussbaum, blocking a side door, answers questions about whether the movement will ever see violence. “There’s always the potential for violence," she is saying. “But it would be good if that could be understood in the context of a larger issue. “I am not in favor of getting my head beaten in." At 3:15 the building starts to empty out. ADAPT has managed to block all the exits, so AMA workers and officials alike are subjected to a gauntlet of taunts as they trot, under tight police protection, down the ramp to the alley and across to the parking garage. The taunts seem mostly to be of the “AMA Shame On You” variety. When ADAPT members arrived at AMA headquarters in the morning, they found tables set up with water coolers and cups of refreshing water awaiting them. Later, the AMA‘s Department of Geriatric Health would confirm for a reporter that the AMA had done this so the disabled people wouldn't get overheated and get sick. Many protesters were wary of the water. Some suspected it had been spiked with Valium: others thought it a ploy to get them to have to pee later on, adding to their discomfort and hopefully ending the demonstration early. Much of the water was left untouched. Water was also running through hoses into the sprinkling system of the AMA‘s lawns. This had the added effect of keeping protesters off the grassy knolls fronting the building. Shortly after ADAPT arrived, one demonstrator had parked his chair on the hose while others moved across the area to block doors. Later, the water was simply turned off. Insert picture: A head and shoulders picture of a protester chanting, with the words "AMA: Shame on you!" "People are dying shame on you!" Article continues- The AMA’s flak, Arnold Collins, was standing around with the TV and radio reporters most of the day. The AMA had issued a statement insisting it “supports the home care objectives of ADAPT." Dr. Joanne Schwartzberg, Director of the AMA's Department of Geriatric Health, said in the news release that a meeting the previous Thursday with ADAPT had been “productive” and that the two `groups` had “considerable common ground.” Campbell, who attended the meeting, had a different analysis. He said he believed Schwartzberg truly had no understanding what ADAPT wanted; that some of their ideas had been totally inconceivable to her. Schwartzberg said ADAPT was the first group she had ever met with and felt “hostility.” “It was a great shock," she said. “I always thought of myself as being a great advocate. But I wasn’t an advocate enough for them." Schwartzberg said that ADAPT didn’t understand that there were “really frail people in nursing homes — a kind of frailty that these disabled don’t have. “I was really scared that the demonstrators might get harmed, the way they throw themselves out of their chairs.” she went on. “They’re very courageous; I think they're a little reckless. Luckily, nobody’s gotten seriously hurt." “Do you think she really believes the things she says, or do you think it’s just a pose?” a filmmaker wondered. The AMA had issued “a guideline for medical management of homecare patients," she said, and they were putting on 8 seminars for doctors “in managing home care.” She knew ADAPT wanted AMA members to divest themselves of their financial interest in nursing homes and cut nursing home admissions. But the AMA couldn‘t do that, she explained patiently. “We are a voluntary body. not a regulatory body." “They couldn't understand why we couldn‘t do more." she said. The Chicago Tribune was still concerned about the State of lllinois building. Every day Tribune stories had chronicled the increasing security at the site. On Tuesday, Paulette Patterson and another disabled woman filed suit in U.S. District Court alleging denial of access due to increased security. Though a temporary restraining order was not granted, Patterson’s attorney, Matthew Cohen, said filing the suit had had the desired effect. The Tribune covered the suit. Photos by Tom Olin: 1) Two protesters (Spitfire and Jimmi Schrode) in the march raise the power fist to woman leaning out of a second floor window yelling and giving them the thumbs up. Below on the sidewalk most people are just walking by but one older man looks on. Spitfire is wearing her combat helmet. 2) A line of ADAPT protesters face a set of barricades on the other side of which are a line of policemen holding the barricades with both hands. Midway down the line of protesters, a man in a wheelchair (Danny Saenz) is turned toward the camera and another protester (Chris Hronis). 3) Close up of a man in a wheelchair (Rene Luna) who sits in front of an almost life sized portrait of IL Governor Edgar. Rene is holding a poster that reads "nursing home industry owns Edgar." Article continues- Finally, on Wednesday, ADAPT obliged the Tribune and state officials by staging a protest at the building, drawing attention to stale policies that were cutting people off from attendant services in Illinois. On Thursday. the Tribune ran a long story on ADAPT. Calling them "a group of vociferous activists savvy in street action." It quoted a miffed Chicago official who refused to be named saying that "one of the strongest points in their civil disobedience is making themselves look as pathetic as possible.“ “The group's history is rife with attention-grabbing acts of protest." said the Tribune. which compared them to ACT-UP and Earth First! protest `groups`. "Though some may question their tactics. none can doubt they have impact.“ said the Tribune. the end - ADAPT (617)
Atlanta Journal Constitution Disabled end protest siege at Morehouse By Ben Smith III, Staff writer (This story continues on ADAPT 630 but the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO (by Dianne Laakso/Staff): A medium close up of a glass doorway framed in metal. Slightly opened you can see through the opening and the glass a woman (Julie Nolan) in a manual wheelchair seated and blocking the door. She is looking out a far away look in her eye and one arm rests on the inside push handle of the door, while her other strong hand is spread on her leg. She is wearing a teal T-shit and jeans. The writing in her T-shirt is partially obscured by folds and by the door frame but you can make out what appears to be "EQUAL ACCESS NOW" and around these words what appears to be a circle saying "Cape Organization for [Rights of the Disabled]. Disabled activists ended their occupation of a Morehouse College administration building today, leaving with what they said was a statement from the college saying it sympathized with the group’s concerns. About 50 members of ADAPT, or American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, left the building carrying a statement written on Morehouse President Leroy Keith's stationery. But the statement was not signed or read by any college official, and college officials refused to comment or come out of the building. Meanwhile, another group of disabled activists continued their protest against the nursing home industry and the federal government’s policies on the disabled by barricading the Georgia Health Care Association’s (GHCA) office in Decatur. More than 75 protesters in wheelchairs blocked the entrances and driveways of the GHCA’s headquarters on Memorial Drive early this afternoon, trapping six people in the office. The protesters delivered their demands to GHCA executive vice president Fred Watson, who refused to honor them. The protesters were demanding that Mr. Watson fax a list of their demands to the American Health Care Association, with which the Georgia organization is affiliated. The demands included redirection of federal and state money away from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Watson said, “I’ll send a letter, but not right now.” DeKalb County police who arrived at the scene said they have no plans to arrest the demonstrators. “That’s the last thing we want to do," said Lt. J.W. Austin. “We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place." The disabled activists had occupied the Morehouse College administration building for a day and a half. About 200 demonstrators had taken over Gloster Hall on the Morehouse campus in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the president's office Monday. David Veatch, 24, a Utica, N.Y., member of ADAPT, said, “We are going to let them know that the nursing home lobby needs to reform. We're talking to our captors about our rights.” Earlier, ADAPT members said they wanted Dr. Keith to write a letter to Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan, asking him to support the organization's position and meet with group members sometime in the near future. But Dr. Keith said he would not write or sign such a letter. “We have no business intervening in this situation where we have no authority," he said. ADAPT wants the federal government to redirect 25 percent of the Medicaid budget from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Veatch estimated the total federal budget for the disabled at more than $17.5 billion. Protesters argue that shifting federal funds to home care for the disabled is more humane and more cost-efficient. Michael Auberger, an ADAPT co-founder, estimated that 250,000 disabled people are being held in nursing homes against their will.” He said that redirecting funds to home care could aid an additional 150,000 disabled people. Mr. Veatch said it costs $30,000 a year to house a disabled person in a nursing home and only $6,000 to $8,000 to care for them at home. “But handicapped continue to be housed in nursing homes," Mr. Veatch said, because we don’t have to deal with the fact that we don’t have accessible communities or accessible buses if we lock them up.” “The ghetto in Soweto is no different than a nursing home,” Mr. Auberger said. You’re locked in there. You don’t have the freedom to leave. You don’t have a choice of what you eat, what time you go to bed or what time you get up. Your freedoms are so restricted that you’re better off being in the Fulton County Jail.” Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," Mr. Auberger said. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Staff writer Lyle Harris and The Associated Press contributed to this report. PHOTO, by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A line of people in wheelchairs and dark ADAPT "no steps" T-Shirts head toward the camera, traveling along the side of a road. Beside them are parked cars and onlookers. In the front is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt; he is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger, with his leg extended out in front of him. Behind him is Clayton Jones, and next is Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood, and behind them faces become blurrier, but you can see Arthur Campbell. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. - Rotunda part 1
This is part 1 of the story of the ADAPT protest in the Capitol Rotunda to call for passage of the ADA with no weakening amendments. The ADA had become bogged down in the House and there was concern the bill would not pass. The day after the Wheels of Justice March and the Capitol Crawl, ADAPT took over the Rotunda of the United States Capitol building and over 100 people were arrested protesting for our civil rights. This is almost raw footage and gives a real sense of the event as it unfolded. Part 2 of this action is included in the next video Capitol Rotunda part 2. - ADAPT (156)
Rocky Mountain News Tues. Oct. 2, 1984 Denver, Colo. PHOTO (AP LASER PHOTO): A protester in a manual wheelchair and a puffy coat (Renata Conrad), screams as police force her arms behind her back. One uniformed officer stands behind her forcing her forward. One stands in front, his arms stretched in front. The third stands watching with his notebook in his hand and his pen or maybe a cigarette in his mouth. Caption reads: Washington police restrain wheelchair-bound women during protest at transit conference. [Headline] Disabled Denverites held at D.C. protest By JOSEPH B. VERRENGIA Rocky Mountain News Staff Writer WASHINGTON — Fourteen wailing handicapped protesters, including some from Denver, were arrested here Monday when they used their wheelchairs, crutches and limp bodies to briefly blockade a national meeting of transit executives. Among those arrested were Mike Auberger, Bob Conrad, Mark Ball and Glen Damen, all of Denver. Richard Male of Denver, an able-bodied demonstrator, also was arrested, as were nine other protesters from New York, Texas, Illinois and Connecticut. The 14 were among more than 35 people who converged on the annual meeting of the American Public Transit Association at the Washington Convention Center. They were fined $50 apiece for blocking a public building. ADAPT, a Denver-based militant handicapped rights group, raised an estimated $30,000 this year to send the protesters to Washington and to train disabled groups nationwide in political demonstration and lobbying techniques. Two of the protesters who were arrested and fined were treated at a local hospital for minor injuries and released. "The police got pretty physical,“ said ADAPT spokesman Wade Blank of Denver. "We had been causing civil disobedience all week. We expected it (the arrests) to happen. It was just a matter of when." Monday's arrests capped a year of growing tension between handicapped activists and transit officials over the issue of accessibility to the handicapped. “This is not something that we are especially proud of,"said ADAPT member Mark Johnson, as he pounded on the plexiglass door of the convention center with a wooden crutch. "We are here because there has been a resistance to us," said Johnson, who ran unsuccessfully for the RTD Board of Directors in 1980. Johnson said ADAPT is demanding that the transit convention vote to make all public transit systems accessible to the handicapped, that those systems only purchase buses equipped with wheelchair lifts, and that the Federal Government reinstate a regulation mandating accessibility. Convention officials said the demonstrators delayed their program for a few minutes, but caused no damage. Last year, RTD hosted the annual transit convention. Although handicapped activists picketed the meeting, their protests were less forceful. In addition, the protesters last year were allowed to address the convention, a privilege refused them this year. "They requested a slot, but we already had everything filled," convention spokesman Albert Engelken said. "There have been some problems. They (protesters) have been pretty aggressive." The demonstrators suddenly appeared at 10 a.m, just as hundreds of transit executives arrived at the convention center on a convoy of shuttle buses from their hotels. Washington police tried to block the advancing wheelchairs. However, they quickly became entangled with the front line of handicapped men and women and were outflanked by the rest of the demonstrators. Chanting "we will ride. it's our right," the protesters wedged their wheelchairs between the doors of the convention center. Many of them threw themselves out of their chairs and sprawled on the sidewalk to block the doors. Monday's demonstration was the third in a series of protests organized by ADAPT. On Thursday, a dozen protesters blocked seven Washington Metro buses in front of the White House during the evening rush hour. On Sunday, another contingent blocked a chartered bus carrying the spouses of 50 transit executives who were touring the nation's capital. After being trapped for an hour, the spouses finally crawled over the crippled protesters to get to their hotel. The protest overshadowed the speeches to the packed convention by U.S. Secretary of Transportation Elizabeth Dole and New York City Mayor Ed Koch. Dole abandoned much of her highly partisan prepared speech, choosing instead to repeat the Reagan administration's compromise offer for accessible public transit. "Transit authorities receiving federal funds would be required to make at least half of their peak hour bus fleet accessible, provide para-transit for special services or offer some combination of these options," Dole said. Both sides are cool to the proposal. Transit executives complain it will cost too much considering that only 5 percent of the country's transit passengers are disabled. Many disabled groups, meanwhile, reject Dole's offer because they say it endorses separate but equal service. - ADAPT (537)
The Handicapped Coloradan Small Text Box: If you feel like spending a few days In Washington, D.C. this March, give Wade Blank or Mike Auberger a ring at (303) 936-1110. They've got a tour of the Capitol Building that most travel agencies don't offer. PHOTO (by Tom Olin): Joe Carle, Diane Coleman, Bob Kafka and Mark Johnson, all in wheelchairs and dressed in revolutionary garb lead a march under the leafy trees of Philadelphia's historic district. They have tri-cornered hats, jackets with fancy buttons, ruffled shirts, a fife and drum. Behind the front of the line Ann ___ is visible, as well as other marchers. Diane carries the ADAPT flag and Joe has another dark flag on a tall pole. Caption: Militants could seize capitol rotunda -- Dressed In Revolutionary War garb, several ADAPT members rolled toward the Liberty Bell while the U.S. Court of Appeals was ruling that disabled people have a right to public transit. Many of these same activists are heading for Washington, D.C. on Mar. 10, in an attempt to get Congress to pass the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1989. Protesters intend to leave their wheelchairs and crawl up the steps of the Capitol Building while Congress is in session. Article begins: ADAPT sets roll on D.C. To prod ADA passage Still a mile high following their victory in Atlanta last fall, disabled activists from across the country are planning on rolling on the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C., to demand that lawmakers pass the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1989. The act, which grants sweeping civil rights to disabled people (much as the 1965 Civil Rights Act aided blacks), has passed the Senate but is currently bogged down in four House committees, and no one expects a vote earlier than Feb. 28 by the full House membership. Disabled militants, mostly members of the Denver-based American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), are planning on arriving in Washington on March 10. "If the bill is still in committee at that time, we're going to treat it as if the bill is in trouble," said ADAPT founder Wade Blank, co-director of the Atlantis Community, a Denver independent living health care provider. Blank said that disabled lobbyists in Washington have warned ADAPT to avoid the confrontational politics that it has used in other cities while battling its arch-nemesis, the American Public Transit Association (APTA). The professional lobbyists said it is not advisable to upset Congress, according to Blank. That's too bad, Blank said, because "we're telling them right here and now that we're going in and kicking ass.” Blank expects several hundred will participate in the march on the capitol, with about 125 of the protesters prepared to leave their chairs and crawl upon the capitol steps while other militants sneak in and seize the rotunda itself. If all that works out, it could be ADAPT’s biggest action so far in its seven-year struggle to force transit companies to put a lift on every bus in the country. The federal government unofficially agreed to support that goal in a deal hammered out between representatives of ADAPT and President Bush in Atlanta last October. Part of that deal called upon the President to push for disabled rights in his State of the Union address, which he did, much to the satisfaction of ADAPT, which Blank described as being “very pleased” with Bush. “Now we're going to smoke out a few Democrats," he said. When the agreement was reached in Atlanta, two cities had already started the process of purchasing non-lift equipped buses. Since then Pittsburgh has reversed its position and agreed to buy only accessible buses, while Albuquerque refused to consider altering its plans. “They’ll go down in history as the last city in America to buy lift-less buses," Blank said. In the months since Atlanta, ADAPT has switched its attention to pushing for lifts on intercity coaches. To that end some 45 wheelchair demonstrators were in Dallas Jan. 21-24 to picket a joint meeting of the American Bus Association (ABA) and the United Bus Owners of America (UBOA). Greyhound, the largest intercity bus company, is headquartered in Dallas. Most of those demonstrators were participating in their first action, which Blank said proves that ADAPT is continuing to grow in strength and power. On the first day, pickets blocked the entrance to the conference hotel with relatively little fireworks. But on Monday, Jan. 22, the protesters hit the Greyhound depot where some 29 demonstrators were arrested for blocking buses. Twenty of those were first-time arrestees. Trial has been set for Feb. 12. On the third day, protesters stormed in the exposition hall and interrupted a trade show demonstrating the latest advances in bus design. Most of that design had nothing to do with helping wheelchair riders get on board, Blank said. UBOA president Wayne Smith, who has published articles in the New York Times arguing against the transit provisions of the ADA, decided not to call in the police, and for three hours militant wheelchair protesters engaged in debate with professional transit providers. “It was a very successful happening,” Blank said. He said he hoped that spirit would hold true for the Washington, D.C., action, where he expects to see more first-time protesters. A seminar on ADAPT’S history and tactics is set for Mar. 10 at the Comfort Inn on H Street in northwestern Washington, where neophyte activists are urged to go even if they are planning to stay elsewhere during the action. Although the ADA covers all disabilities, this action, called the “Wheels of Justice," will center on the rights of the mobility-impaired. Blank said he tried to coordinate his action with other groups, including the National Federation of the Blind (NFB), but was rebuffed. “They don't think of themselves as disabled,” he said. “And that’s fine.” (For more on this topic see Homer Page’s column on page 2, “The ADA and the Blind.”) Some blind advocacy groups, including the NFB, have argued that they don't want adaptive devices, such as special buttons on street corners, written into the bill. “We don't need them," said Page, who is vice president of the Colorado NFB chapter. Those people wishing to participate in ADAPT‘s “Wheels of Justice" should contact Blank or Mike Auberger at (303) 936-1110. PHOTO: Medium close up of Wade Blank from the waist up. He is smiling, wearing dark sun glasses and a vest. His below shoulder length blondish hair is parted in the middle. This text covers the article that appears in 537 and 538. - ADAPT (447)
PHOTO Tom Olin?: ADAPT marches down a curvy street, the line snaking back out of sight. All but a couple of people wear their black ADAPT t-shirts with the gold "no steps" logo on the front. Julie Farrar with her "Together Not Apart" sign, and Lillibeth Navarro, with an "Access equals gentler + kinder" sign are at the front of the photo. Behind them are Kim Horton, George Roberts and Mark Johnson. Then Arthur Campbell is guiding the edge of the line from the side, with his grey hair in a headband and pony tail, and next to him a quad with a blue cap sits and Sue Davis is walking toward them. In the next row of marchers is Larry Ruiz and Tommy Malone. Behind them is a woman in a white shirt and behind her is Ken Heard. Behind Ken is a someone walking on crutches with lots of buttons on their shirt. Beside that person a woman (possibly Rhonda Lester) walks and behind her is Jim Parker and Devorah Kappers is pushing someone in a wheelchair. Being pushed by Frank Lozano, Paulette Patterson is riding off to the side of the line, wearing a white t-shirt. Behind her is Lori Eastman and what looks like Rick James and Barb Guthrie. - ADAPT (357)
Disabled Activists Blockade Transit Expo By Jack Fletcher Frontline, October 12, 1987 PHOTO by Frontline: In a medium close up, man and a woman in wheelchairs (Bob Kafka and Diane Coleman), sit side by side in a downtown street and tall buildings in the background. Both wear the ADAPT T-shirt with the no-steps logo, Diane has on a white jacket. Bob is speaking and has his hand over Diane's, which is on her joy stick. Behind her head is a poster, partly blocked from view, that reads "We the People..." There is no caption. San Francisco Hundreds of disabled activists, demanding accessible transit, dramatically confronted “the world’s largest transit exposition” here September 27-30 as they blockaded streets, chained themselves to cable cars, and generally besieged the 15,000 mass transit officials and manufacturers’ representatives at the American Public Transit Association (APTA) Expo ’87. Over 100 protesters were arrested as they pressed APTA to approve a resolution by the September Alliance for Affordable Transit (SAAT) calling for the right of the disabled and elderly to access public transit. SAAT organizer Marilyn Golden called the APTA protests “the largest in disability rights history.” The disabled community has fought against APTA since 1979 when APTA brought a lawsuit that succeeded in overturning a federal regulation requiring that all transit vehicles be accessible to the disabled. Since 1983 the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) has organized demonstrations at APTA conventions in Cincinnati, Detroit, Phoenix, New York, and Washington, D. C. to urge a policy change. Until this year when they scheduled two workshops on the issue, APTA has been unwilling to even meet with protestors. Mark Johnson, a demonstrator from Georgia, drew the parallel between these protests and the civil rights movement saying, “There was something wrong when Black people weren’t allowed to sit in the front of the bus, and there’s something wrong when we can’t even go on the bus.” APTA claims that accessibility would cost $15 billion and would bankrupt the nation’s transit districts; they propose instead a system of “paratransit” which would theoretically provide disabled people with flexible door-to-door service but in fact translates into long waiting lists and call-ahead requirements, weekday-only buses and restricted ride purposes. SAAT counters that APTA’s $15 billion figure includes completely rebuilding subways in New York, Chicago and other cities, while the disabled community’s actual demand does not include rebuilding rail systems or even retrofitting existing vehicles, but only that new buses include wheelchair lifts. Also, while arguing that paratransit may be a useful supplement to public transit, Susan Schapiro of SAAT criticized existing paratransit systems as designed with a view of the disabled as “pathetic people in nursing homes going to see the doctor twice a month . . . . It all boils down to discrimination and the belief that these aren’t really people. The APTA delegates could not miss the powerful statement made by the tenacious lines of wheelchair bound demonstrators who spanned several generations in age, were multi-racial in composition, and came from every corner of the U.S. – including eight from Alaska. As demonstrators were being arrested they drove home the irony of being taken away in a lift-equipped paddy wagons chanting, “They can take us to jail but not to work.” - ADAPT (169)
Rocky Mountain News 10/26/83 Two PHOTOS (by Rocky Mountain News staff photographer David Cornwell). PHOTO 1: Close up of a man (Mark Johnson) and a woman (Renata Conrad aka Rabe) looking down at a paper, as if conferring. She is holding a microphone in her hand. Beside them sits another man. Caption reads: Mark Johnson and Renate Rabe speak at meeting with transit officials. PHOTO 2: Down a long institutional looking hallway a group of people in wheelchairs and people walking head away from the camera. caption reads: After the meeting, some in wheelchairs exit via hotel's freight elevator. [Headline] Freight elevator raises ill will at meeting By JOSEPH B. VERRENGIA Rocky Mountain News Staff Writer The dispute over access by the handicapped to public transportation crystallized Wednesday when wheelchair-bound speakers at a transit convention resisted suggestions that they use the freight elevator at the Denver Hilton to reach the upstairs meeting. “They (transit officials) told us to ride up the elevator that will later take down the garbage and trash from your lunch," Trudy Knutson of Denver told hundreds of bus and rail operators at a meeting of the American Public Transit Association. "This was ordered by ... your leadership," she told the transit operators. APTA officials said they suggest using the freight elevator because it is about 20 feet from the banquet hall where the convention was being held. They said lobby elevators were farther away and were packed with many of the convention‘s 3.500 delegates. "They were free to use whichever (elevator) they wanted." said Jack Gilstrap, APTA executive vice president. “The freight elevator is much larger. You can fit only a couple of wheelchairs in a (lobby) elevator at a time." About 50 handicapped persons from ll states and Washington, D.C., attended the convention‘s morning session as Knutson and others called on APTA to pass a resolution endorsing complete handicapped access on all public transit and other demands. Many of the disabled in the audience used the freight elevator to leave the hotel following the presentation of their demands. Gilstrap said it showed that APTA's suggestion was a practical one. However, Knutson and others said the freight elevator issue was indicative of the way many rail and bus systems treat their disabled riders as a nuisance or an afterthought. She said access to public transit is a civil right, a position many transit operators reject. "A society that puts a man on the moon can surely put a person who is in a wheelchair on a bus," Knutson said. The handicapped protesters received a boost from Atlanta Mayor Andrew Young, who met with the disabled outside the hotel after he spoke to the convention. "We have to design public transit to take care of everyone from (ages) 10 to 100," Young said. According to an agreement signed by APTA, handicapped groups and Mayor Federico Pena‘s office, handicapped activists were allowed limited picketing rights outside the Hilton during the convention and a 20-minute presentation during the general session Wednesday. Handicapped speakers asked for federally mandated 100 percent accessibility and a notice by APTA to bus manufacturers that its members will buy only accessible vehicles. Gilstrap said the group's demands would be referred to study groups and a resolution considered late. APTA has resisted 100 percent accessibility requirement because wheelchair lifts, elevators and other equipment are expensive and the number of handicapped riders is comparatively low. "It's tough to put money into services that aren't used" Gilstrap said. “It's a manager's dilemma. It‘s used so lightly that it‘s almost ridiculous." For example, Gilstrap said the Regional Transportation District is one of the leaders in handicapped transportation with 50 percent of its buses accessible during peak hours and 100 percent accessible off-peak. Yet, in 1982, he said, each of those buses averaged only 25 handicapped trips per year. Gilstrap said special van service where handicapped riders call in advance and get picked up at home is a better, albeit expensive, idea. "At least the money spent is spent on carrying people,“ he said. Denver also offers demand service. The trips-per year average is 1,490, making it far more popular than regular bus service. Handicapped groups believe van service is unconstitutional because it is separate but equal service. - ADAPT (118)
The Denver Post, Metro section, Tuesday Jan. 5, 1982 2 PHOTOS, The Denver Post / John J Sunderland: First: Through bars that look a bit like the ropes in a boxing ring, a man in a wheelchair (Mark Johnson) sits, chin resting on his hand, and looks on thoughtfully as a police officer writes something on a piece of paper on a surface in front of them. The officer is leaning forward almost over Mark, and Mark looks calm and very thoughtful as he watches. Caption reads: Mark Johnson, 30, was one of two protesters cited Monday at Regional Transportation District offices. He later left and was not charged. Second photo: In a brick covered room, a person in a wheelchair has his back to the camera and facing a man who is blocking his way. The man standing faces the camera and points toward it. Caption reads: Bob West, Regional Transportation District director of security, tells demonstrator he won't be allowed to obstruct business. Bus Plan Protesters Chain Selves By GEORGE LANE, Denver Urban Affairs Writer Wheelchair-bound protesters chained themselves to stairway railings and blocked the main entrance to local transit offices for about 90 minutes Monday until police removed them from the building. Two persons were cited for trespassing as 13 disabled persons in wheelchairs and about an equal number of attendants and supporters participated in the protest at the offices of the Regional Transportation District. Spokesmen for the group vowed they will return today. The demonstration was organized primarily by members of the Atlantis Community for the disabled and Wade Blank, co-administrator of Atlantis, to protest a decision by the RTD board of directors not to put wheelchair lifts on 89 high-capacity, articulated buses slated to be added to the RTD bus fleet in 1983. RTD officials allowed the demonstrators access to the building at 1600 Blake St. about 11 a.m. and raised no objections as the protesters held a press conference. During the press conference RTD was accused of reneging on a promise and violating the civil rights of the disabled by not ordering the lifts on the new buses. Following the press conference, “out of order" signs on two elevators foiled the group's plan to stage a sit-in at the third floor offices of L.A. "Kim" Kimball, RTD's executive director and general manager. “Kimball is as accessible as his buses," remarked one of the demonstrators. A brief scuffle occurred about 11:20 a.m. when Blank and several attendants attempted to carry three wheelchair occupants up a spiral stairway to Kimball‘s office. Mike Hughes, an RTD security officer, blocked the trip up the steps. The three wheelchairs with their occupants eventually were chained and padlocked to the handrailing of the stairway. Two more wheelchairs later were chained and padlocked to the landing of another stairway. The front entrance to the building was then blocked by five or six motorized wheelchairs as about a dozen policemen waited across the street. Capt. Bill Brannan ordered the demonstrators to leave the building. He then said those refusing to leave the building would be cited and ordered to appear in court it he believed they understood what they were doing. When the policemen and paramedics entered to evacuate the building, only Stephan Saunders, 31, and Mark Johnson, 30, would give their names to police. Both men were given misdemeanor citations for obstructing a government operation and obstructing a public passageway. The charges against Johnson, however, weren't filed because he later decided to leave the building voluntarily. - ADAPT (146)
The Handicapped Coloradan, November 1983, Volume 6, No. 4, Boulder Colorado A Cartoon and Picture Top, Cartoon [signature might be Faniul?]: A bus is seen from the rear and labeled "ACCESSIBLE BUSLINES" and "Dept. of Transportation." Behind it, tied to the rear bumper is a little kids wagon labeled "Special Transit." In that wagon sits a person with under-the-arm crutches, holding on for his life, and his feet in the air as the wagon bounces along behind the bus. Inside the bus, someone who looks a heck of a lot like President Reagan is saying "Wow! Look at that. He's separate but EQUAL!" Bottom, photo by Gary Handschumacher: Shot from below looking up into a dark room, a line of people with disabilities facing forward with two microphones on stands in front of them. Mark Johnson, far left, looks on with the mike right in front of him. Beside him is Renate Conrad. Bob Conrad sits next to her and speaks into another mike. Two other people in wheelchairs are on his other side, the farthest one appears to be Mike Auberger. Caption reads: Mark JOHNSON and Trudy Knutson listen as Bob Conrad tells delegates at the national convention of the American Public Transit Association that the handicapped will be satisfied with nothing less than 100 percent accessibility to public transportation.