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- ADAPT (300)
Southwest Economist Newspapers Sunday, October 5, 1986 page 9 [Headline] Disabled will protest transit system barriers By J. Carole Buckner, staff reporter Chicago – Southwest sider Dennis Schreiber left for Detroit Friday knowing he faced a fair chance of being arrested there for civil disobedience. He was looking forward to it. In the rain-soaked parking lot of Our Lady of the Snows School, 48th St. and Leamington Ave., Schreiber said he told his wife Jackie that the trip is "a dream come true." Schreiber, who is blind, almost completely deaf and partially paralyzed, left with about 30 other handicapped persons, some coming as far away as Denver, Colorado, to protest at the American Public Transit Association's annual convention. For the past three months, Schreiber's group, Disabled Americans for Equality (DARE), has raised money to fund a delegation of protesters to go to Detroit, where they planned to hold a legal march to protest mobility barriers on buses and subways. The Reverend Wade Blank, leader of a contingent of protesters from Denver, called American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT), said the group's parade permit was revoked this week by Detroit Mayor Coleman Young. Despite the lack of a parade permit and potential for arrests, the disabled group plans to go ahead with it's march, aware of the publicity value to be gained with photos of police dragging wheelchairs into paddy wagons. The groups position, said Schreiber, is "that we want equal access to public transportation and all public facilities" Specifically, the protesters want transportation systems throughout the U.S., especially in cities such as Chicago, to be equipped with lifts for wheelchair users. Mark Mactemes, 37, said he is going on the six day journey and demonstration because he needs to use regularly scheduled public transportation to work. The Oak Forest resident has multiple sclerosis. "I graduated college in 1985 and cannot find a job because I can't drive to work and must rely on public transportation." The CTA offers bus service for the handicapped called Dial-A-Ride, "but you must call eight hours in advance and buses (minivans) only run until 10 PM," Jackie Schreiber said. The CTA subcontracts the service to four companies. In the past, CTA officials have refused to install wheelchair lifts on buses, saying the cost is prohibitive. Blank, said similar reasons were given in Denver, but after sustained efforts by handicapped groups, all the cities buses were equipped with lifts. The result has been an increase in handicapped ridership, from a few hundred to 2000 riders per month, he said. Blank said famed 1960s civil rights protester Rosa Parks is scheduled to March with the group on Sunday. In all, more than 300 handicapped persons, mostly in wheelchairs, or expected to demonstrate in Detroit, Blank said. - ADAPT (122)
Denver Post [This article continues on in ADAPT 123, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] Photo by Lyn Alweis: A short haired man in a jacket and dark slacks [Mel Conrardy] is lifted in his wheelchair from the sidewalk to a bus. The lift comes out of the front door of the bus and has railings on either side of the lift almost as tall as the seated man. Just by the bus door is a sign on the side of the bus that says "RTD Welcome Aboard." Caption: An RTD bus with wheelchair lift provides mobility for Mel Conrardy Title: Leaders of handicapped rate RTD service best in country By Norm Udevitz, Denver Post Staff Writer Disabled Denverites just a few years ago had as much chance of riding a bus as they did of climbing Mount Everest. “It was brutal the way RTD treated us,” said Mike Auberger, an official in the Atlantis Community, for the disabled and a leader in the fight that has turned the Regional Transportation District’s handicapped service around. In the 1970s and early 1980s, RTD busses then rarely equipped with wheelchair lifts, often left wheelchair-bound riders stranded on streets. Drivers, lacking training in dealing with visually or language impaired people, panicked when blind or deaf riders tried to board buses. “It used to be that even in the dead of winter, when it was below zero, those of us in wheelchairs would wait 2 or 3 hours for a bus to finally stop," Auberger recalls. “And often the lift was broken and we couldn't get on the bus anyway. And usually the drivers were rude and angry. They would tell us that we were ruining their schedules." But conditions have changed, Auberger says: “Right now, Denver has the most accessible public transit system for the handicapped — and all the public - in the country." Debbie Ellis, a state social services worker who heads the agency's Handicapped Advisory Council, agrees, saying: “It took a lot of pressure, but RTD has responded and now the bus system is doing a good job of serving the handicapped." Leaders of national programs for the disabled also agree. In fact, the President's Committee on Employment of the Handicapped will bring 5,000 delegates, many of them handicapped, to its national conference in Denver in April. This will be the first time in four decades the group has held its national session outside of Washington DC. “One of the key reasons we're meeting in Denver this year is because it just might be the most comfortable city in the country for the handicapped,” says Sharon Milcrut, head of the Colorado Coalition for Persons with Disabilities, which is hosting the conference. “A very important aspect of that comfort," she notes, “is how accessible the transit system is for the handicapped.” It didn't get that way easily. In the decade between 1974 and 1984, handicapped activists had to pressure indifferent RTD administrators and directors. Each gain was hard won. “We used every tactic in the book, from lawsuits to bus blockades on the street and sit-ins at the RTD offices," says Wade Blank, an Atlantis group director. “The lawsuits didn't help much but when we took to the streets in the late 1970s, I think that's when we started getting their attention." Blank and others also say the 1984 hiring of Ed Colby as RTD general manager helped. Before he arrived, less than half of the 750 RTD buses had wheelchair lifts, which often were in disrepair. Training for drivers to learn how to deal with handicapped riders was minimal. Agency directors resisted change. RTD relied heavily on a costly special van operation called Handyride - a door-to-door pickup service for handicapped. It has cost $13[? glare makes number hard to read] million to run since it began in 1975. “Over the past couple of years the turnaround has been phenomenal," Auberger says. “All of RTD's new buses are being ordered with lifts and older buses are being retrofitted." By 1986's end, almost 80 percent of the bus fleet — 608 of 765 buses — had wheelchair lifts; 82 percent of the fleet's 6,242 daily trips are now accessible for the disabled. Plans call for the fleet to be 100 percent lift-equipped by 1987's end. “The lifts aren't breaking down all the time now, either," Auberger said, noting that agency officials found drivers had neglected to report broken lifts: “That way the lifts stayed broken and drivers had an excuse for not picking us up. A bunch of people were fired over that and others realized that Colby wasn't kidding about improving handicapped service." Driver training also has improved dramatically. “It isn't perfect yet,” Ellis of the advisory council says. "But everyone is working hard at it. What we are finding is that 20 percent of the drivers understand that they are moving people, all kinds of people, and they're really great with the handicapped. “Another 20 percent figure their job is to move buses and to heck with passengers, all kinds of passengers. That bottom 20 percent probably won't ever change. So we're working real hard on the 60 percent in between," Ellis says. Drivers, for example, learn to help blind riders. “That’s an improvement that helps the disabled, but it also helps regular passengers who are newcomers to the city,” Ellis says. All the improvements haven't come cheap. Since 1974, more than $5million has been spent on lifts and lift maintenance, most of the expense was incurred in the last three years. RTD plans to spend $9 million more in the next six years to keep the fleet up to its current standards and pay for more driver training. Another $4 million will be spent on HandyRide service. Ironically, Auberger and Ellis both say one of the biggest problems remaining is getting more handicapped people to use mass transit. “There are no reliable figures," Ellis says. “But we think there are about 20,000 handicapped people in the metro area and only about 200 or 300 are using buses on a regular basis." Auberger, confined to a wheelchair after breaking his neck in an accident ll years ago, complains: “The medical system builds a bubble around handicapped people and makes them think they have to be protected. "That's just not true in most cases. So one of the things we're doing now is educating the handicapped to overcome their fears. We've finally got a bus system that works for us and we want the disabled to use it." Photo by Lyn Alweis: A rather straight looking man [Mel Conrardy] in a white jacket, big mittens, and a motorized wheelchair, wears a slight smile as he rides the bus. Someone in a dark jacket stands beside him, and behind him, further back on the bus, other riders are sitting on the bus seats. Caption reads: A bus seat folds up to anchor Mel Conrardy's wheelchair to the floor. Conrardy commutes to work at the Atlantis Community. - ADAPT (98)
Rocky Mountain News Fri., Aug. 22, 1980 Denver, Colo. PHOTO by News photographer Steve Groer: A woman (Beverly Furnice) lies in a long wheelchair with the footrests extended; she is being put down the stairs of a city bus. A man in shirt sleeves and a tie, lowering her down, is bent almost double as he stands on the top step of the bus. Beverly looks a bit freaked. Beside her, on the side of the bus, the access symbol is painted. Caption reads: Bevery Furnice is helped from an RTD bus after a snafu over whether the driver would help her or not. An RTD official finally came to the rescue. [Headline] Wheelchair-bound rider discovers RTD'5 Catch-22 By PHILIP REED, News Staff It was a little like the old song about Charlie on the MTA - a Denver woman got on a Regional Transportation District bus Thursday afternoon, but she couldn't get off for 2 1/2 hours. Unlike the song, where the rider didn't have enough money, Beverly Furnice, 43, of 1135 Josephine St., couldn't get off because the driver wouldn't help in unloading her wheelchair. Furnice, who has arthritic legs that jut straight out in front of her, boarded the bus at East Colfax Avenue and Cherry Street after leaving her job at Atlantis at 4 p.m. Thursday. She had help boarding the bus, but the driver warned her he couldn’t help her with her wheelchair when she came to her stop. Wade Blank, head of Atlantis, said her plight shows that RTD should not put "an inaccessible bus on an accessible route." Normally, Furnice rides a more modern bus that allows her to get on and off by herself. But when short of buses, RTD reverts to the use of older buses, which can't handle all types of wheelchairs. The standoff came to an end at 6:30 pm when an RTD supervisor met the bus at Furnice’s East Colfax Avenue and Josephine Street stop and helped the driver with the heavy electric wheelchair. Blank said the mess was caused by indecision over whether drivers should help the handicapped. He said there should be a policy more clearly defining if RTD is going to serve the public. When the bus neared Furnlce’s stop, two Atlantis in wheelchairs were prepared to board the bus to “ride in sympathy.” But the driver parked the bus and, with the help of the RTD supervisor, helped Furnice to get her wheelchair onto the lift at the front entrance of the bus. The bus driver, who seemed more shaken by the experience than Furnice, refused to say why he didn't offer assistance earlier. He also refused to give his name, but politely asked reporters to step back from the folding doors before the hissed shut. Larry Narey, head of the Amalgamated Transit Union, which represents RTD drivers, said, “It was definitely a setup. s They (Atlantis) are trying to impress on the public that the drivers are insensitive." “But for every war story they can tell, I could tell hundreds of touching stories about how the drivers help and how they feel about handicapped riders," he added. Narey said drivers are required not to leave their driver's seat. But that rule commonly is ignored at the discretion of individual drivers. "Lord, we have even had drivers helping blind people across the street. We want to move people, but there are restrictions. There comes a point where you have to draw the line. The driver in this case is really a very conscientious young man," Narey said. "He feels deeply about helping the handicapped." - ADAPT (595)
US NEWS AND WORLD REPORT Sept. 18, 1989 [This story appears in ADAPT 595, 590 and 602. It is included in its entirety here for ease of reading.] [Headline] Liberation day for the disabled by Joseph P. Shapiro Forty-three million will soon win basic civil-rights protections. Their growing movement has brushed aside the opposition and is changing America The day before the Senate passed historic legislation to protect the civil rights of disabled people, Mary Jane Owen got another rude reminder of the daily discrimination that faces people like her. Owen, a writer who is blind and uses a wheelchair, was lobbying senators for the disability-rights bill. But when she moved onto Constitution Avenue to go home, a taxi driver at curbside sped away rather than pick up a woman in a wheelchair. It is similar acts, repeated hundreds of thousands of times a day to the nation's 43 million disabled, that fueled an angry political movement that has brought the nation to a path-breaking moment. In a few weeks President Bush is expected to sign the Americans with Disabilities Act, a broad statement that will extend to the disabled the same protections against discrimination that were given to blacks and women in the 1960s and 1970s. The Senate passed the measure 76 to 8 last week, and the House is likely to approve it next month. The bill is a profound rethinking of how this country views disabled people, defined as anyone with a physical or mental impairment that "substantially limits" everyday living. For the first time, America is saying the biggest problem facing disabled people is not their own blindness, deafness or other physical condition but discrimination. The bill, says Senate sponsor Tom Harkin (D-Iowa), is "an emancipation proclamation for people with handicaps" that will fundamentally change their lives, getting more of them out of their homes and institutions and into full participation in society. Under the new law, restaurants, stores, hotels and theaters can no longer turn away a person with cerebral palsy, epilepsy, AIDS or any other disability. Employers would be prohibited from rejecting qualified workers just because they are disabled, and they would be required to fashion generally inexpensive modifications to the workplace to make it accessible to the disabled, such as putting a desk on blocks to raise it for a wheelchair user. It would also require that new buses be equipped with lifts so that wheelchair users could get on public transit. New buildings, or those undergoing major reconstruction, would have to be made accessible to disabled people, with elevators installed in shopping malls and new structures higher than two stories. Telephone companies would have to hire operators who could take a message typed by a deaf person on a Telecommunications Device for the Deaf (TDD) and then relay it orally to a hearing person on another phone. [Subheading] Cost of Access. Businesses, particularly small ones, are wary of the changes. John Sloan, president of the National Federation of Independent Business, complained that the bill will impose costly requirements on businesses" and is "so broadly written" that it is unclear how far, and to what expense, a business will have to go to avoid being open to a lawsuit. Sponsors of the bill said estimates that its implementation might cost billions of dollars were wildly exaggerated. Past experience shows they may be correct. When Congress in 1973 protected disabled people from discrimination by institutions that receive federal funding, North Carolina education officials estimated it would cost them $15 billion to make state university buildings accessible, says architect Ronald Mace of Barrier Free Environments. Instead, many changes were simple and cheap. To accommodate students in wheelchairs, classes were moved to ground floors rather than installing elevators to carry them to top floors. The cost so far has totaled $l5 million, says Mace. Similarly, a 1982 study for the Labor Department found that half the accommodations made in the workplace cost little or nothing. For example, it was easy for companies to change a wheelchair user's work hours to conform with the schedule of lift-equipped buses. Another 30 percent of the accommodations were achieved for between $100 and $500. That included such changes as giving a telephone head-set to a quadriplegic telephone operator. Despite the concerns of business groups, their opposition to a bill that would open them up to a new spate of lawsuits was surprisingly muted and not nearly as vociferous as their fight against the 1964 Civil Rights Act. For one thing, no one wanted to look like a bigot fighting a civil-rights bill, particularly one that was rushing through Congress. More important, businesses in the last few years have seen disabled people as a new source of labor and customers. “If they can get to the stores, business is going to increase" says the U.S. Chamber of Commerce‘s Nancy Fulco, who nonetheless lobbied to limit the rights bill's impact on business. [Subheading] Hidden Army. The mixed feelings of business groups underscored how disability rights is a civil-rights movement different from any other. Unlike the black and women's movements, disability-rights groups have never filled the streets with hundreds of thousands of marchers. Instead, the disability movement boasts “a hidden army,“ says former Representative Tony Coelho, who has epilepsy. Since a fifth of the nation's population has some form of disability, ranging from mental retardation to severe arthritis, Coelho argues, “disability impacts practically every family.“ Nowhere was that clearer than in Congress and the White House. where key supporters of the rights bill felt a particular need to win the bill‘s passage because they personally know about disabilities. Most important was President Bush, who has two sons with disabilities. Bush's strong statements in support of the bill during the 1988 campaign won him important support in the usually Democratic disability community. Nevertheless, the rights bill was in trouble until mid-June because of business fears about its cost. Then, on the day he left Congress, Coelho called Bush to ask him to renew his commitment to the bill. Within a few weeks, White House Chief of Staff John Sununu convened a strategy session with key senators to negotiate a compromise. That was easy to achieve once sponsors agreed to the White House request they drop the provision that would have allowed the disabled to sue for punitive damages if they were discriminated against. a provision that was the most opposed by business lobbies. From that moment, the compromise bill has been on a fast track. The success of the disability movement is extraordinary because it sprang up with little noise and little notice. One essential ingredient has been the growth of a new class consciousness among the disabled. Seventy-four percent of them feel they share a “common identity” with other disabled people, and 45 percent argue that they are “a minority in the same sense as are blacks and Hispanics,” according to a 1985 poll by Louis Harris & Associates. “All disabled people share one common experience—discrimination,” says Pat Wright of the Disability Rights, Education and Defense Fund. Often it is crude bigotry. In January, an airline employee in New York who resented having to help a 66-year-old double amputee board a plane instead threw him on a baggage dolly. A New Jersey private-zoo owner a few summers ago refused to admit children with Down syndrome to the monkey house because, he claimed, they upset his chimpanzees. It is that kind of outrage and countless more subtle discriminations that fueled the movement that now wants to change the image of the disabled. Many now reject the traditional attitudes of society that suggested their lives were tragic and pitiful. Many now loathe charitable appeals such as the annual Jerry Lewis Telethon that raised $42 million for the Muscular Dystrophy Association over Labor Day weekend. Such extravaganzas seek funds by emphasizing the most desperate cases. That kind of approach, activists say, suggests that disabled people are to be cared for and cannot be contributing members of society. “We don’t want to be dependent any more,” says Lex Friedan of the Institute for Rehabilitation and Research Foundation in Houston, who is a quadriplegic wheelchair user, the result of an automobile accident. “We want to be part of society in every way.” Such new attitudes reflect fundamental changes in the lives of disabled people. Since 1975, when federal law first ensured all disabled children access to schools, hundreds of thousands of disabled students have gotten a better education alongside nondisabled peers. Many grew frustrated after college, when they found there were few such protections to help once they tried to find jobs. A recent Census Bureau study concluded that the gap between the earnings of disabled and their nondisabled co-workers is growing. A disabled worker in 1987 made only 64 percent of what his nondisabled colleagues earned. In 1980, it was 77 percent. The 1985 Harris survey found that 70 percent of working-age disabled people were unemployed. Of those, two thirds said they wanted to work but were prevented from doing so because, among other reasons, they faced discrimination in hiring or lacked transportation. Those who do not work now collect federal disability and welfare checks, costing nearly $60 billion a year. “It doesn’t make sense to maintain people in a dependency state when those people want to be productive, tax-paying citizens,” argues Jay Rochlin of the President’s Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities. Although no one knows precisely how many millions of dollars could be saved by bringing the disabled fully into the work force, Sylvia Piper, an Ankeny, Iowa, mother, says she saved taxpayers $4.8 million by ignoring physicians who urged her to institutionalize her retarded son, Dan, when he was born. Instead, she kept him at home and sent him to public school with non-disabled children, the kind of role models who inspired him to get a job this summer. Dan, now 18, saved $800 from his pay as a drugstore stockroom worker. His first purchase was a gray bedroom rug, upon which he slept the night it arrived. The next morning he was ready for work early and announced, “I've got to work harder and make more money." Once again, says his delighted mother, Dan grew when faced with a challenge. The nation’s changing demographics have added to the urgency of meeting the needs of the disabled. By 1990, there will be 6.2 million elderly Americans with one or more basic disabilities, up from almost 5 million in 1984, according to estimates by the Urban Institute, a research organization. And the explosive growth of the number of those with AIDS and HIV infection has already added hundreds of thousands more disabled to the population. That is why AIDS-policy advocates teamed up with disability groups to make sure civil-rights guarantees under the bill also applied to those with AIDS. People with AIDS had won federal court rulings protecting them under existing disability-rights laws, which apply only to federally funded programs. The new bill will expand that protection to the private sector, so that people with AIDS and HIV infection cannot be fired from jobs or denied service in restaurants. [Subheading] Galvanizing Issue. Along with being better educated and more independent, the new generation of disabled people has become more politically sophisticated. Some 200 independent-living centers, which have sprung up since the 1970s to provide a mix of counseling and support services to severely disabled people, became bases of advocacy. One galvanizing issue came in the early 19805, when a Reagan administration anti-regulation effort tried to eliminate key federal protections that prohibit discrimination by any program or contractor receiving federal funds. Negotiating sessions over the regulation first brought then Vice President Bush face-to-face with Evan Kemp, who headed Ralph Nader’s Disability Rights Center. The regulation was never changed, in part because of Kemp’s advocacy and growing friendship with Bush. Last week, the President named Kemp, a member of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission since 1987, to chair the civil-rights agency, which will handle job-discrimination cases brought under the new law. The disability-rights movement is distinctive, too, because it has never had a Martin Luther King or a Betty Friedan to lead it. Part of the reason is that there are hundreds of different disabilities. Nonetheless, disabled people, such as student protesters who last year gave Gallaudet University its first deaf president, I. King Jordan, are now adopting on a small scale the protest tactics of the civil-rights movement. Thirty members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, which uses tactics of civil disobedience, on Labor Day backed their wheelchairs against buses at the Los Angeles Greyhound terminal and disrupted busy holiday traffic in a protest for wheelchair lifts on buses. As the historic legislation was being debated, there was a curious twist. Watching with interest was a paraplegic visitor from Moscow, Ilya Zaslavski. He made history earlier this year when he won election to the new Soviet national legislature, the first person anywhere in the world to run as a disability candidate. Zaslavski watched the work of Congress and announced plans to introduce SDA—-a Soviets with Disabilities Act. INSERTED TEXT BOX: THE COST FACTOR Businesses are concerned about the costs imposed by the civil-rights bill: BUILDINGS: The cost of making accessible new buildings and those existing structures that are undergoing major renovations runs between 0 and 1 percent of building costs. TRANSIT: Changes required of bus and transit systems to help the disabled over the next 20 years might cost several hundred million dollars. PHONES: It will cost $250 million to $300 million a year to hire operators to work relay systems so deaf people can communicate with those who can hear, according to federal and AT&T estimates. INSERT: PHOTO (Roberta Barnes -- San Antonio Light): A line of people in wheelchairs diagonally crosses the picture. In the front Lonnie Smith Archuleta with his buff physique, in a T-Shirt with a medal-like imprint on the front, wheels his sports chair. Behind him a slight woman (Diane Coleman) with very thin arms and leg braces on her extended legs, rolls her power chair with a flag attached. She wears a straw hat, red ADAPT no steps T-shirt and long red skirt, across which she wears a sign reading "Gentler -n- kinder nation??" Behind her another woman in a power wheelchair (Linda Johnstone) wears a different red ADAPT T-shirt and a sign across her knees reads "We Need a Ride To Work." Behind her is another large woman in a wheelchair (Mary Kay Sanders) in dark sunglasses and a white dress; she carries a white parasol and appears to be chanting. Over the top of the parasol another sign (held by someone walking but obscured from view) written in calligraphy can be seen: "Access is a Civil Right." The line bends back and around out of view. Caption reads: Countless Frustrations. Angry protesters in San Antonio wheel through the streets to protest the lack of accessible public transportation. - ADAPT (543)
PHOTO by Tom Olin: Close up of Mike Auberger with mouth open chanting. Around his neck is a kryptonite lock locked to a second lock, which is locked to a revolving door. He wears and ADAPT bandanna around his head and long braids. Caption reads: ADAPT member Mike Auberger puts his neck on the line. DISABILITY RIGHTS ADVOCATES TURN UP THE HEAT IN CAPITOL In more ways than one, the heat was turned up in Washington, D.C. during the week of March 11 to March 17, 1990. Weather records were shattered as the mercury climbed to 89 degrees on Monday and remained hot all week; the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin bloomed three weeks early. There was another heat wave going on as people with disabilities from all over the country converged on the Capitol to push for the Americans with Disabilities Act, which passed the Senate last September and is now stalled in the House. On Monday, March l2, we gathered in front of the White House at noon. Over 1000 strong, most in wheelchairs but including people who are deaf and blind, we marched down Pennsylvania Avenue, the 17 blocks to the U.S. Capitol. We carried signs and chanted “ADA Now!" At the Capitol, Justin Dart, chairman of the President's Committee, said that partial equality is not equality: “We want an end to discrimination against the disabled, the nation's most impoverished, isolated and segregated minority." King Jordan, president of Gallaudet University, warned “If we don’t get what we want, we will be back to stay." Mike Auberger, from ADAPT, closed with a stirring speech. “We are Americans," he said, “and we want the same rights as everyone else." After the speeches, many abandoned their wheelchairs and climbed the 83 steps on the west front of the Capitol, as a symbolic gesture dramatizing the barriers that the disabled still face. On Tuesday, many assembled in the huge rotunda inside the U.S. Capitol and heard speeches by Speaker Thomas Foley, Congressman Robert Michel and Congressman Stenny Hoyer of Maryland, who is coordinating the House legislative effort on ADA. Hearing that no promises could be given as to the date of a House vote, many started chanting “ADA Now!" Many were arrested for illegal entry, carried in police vans to a police facility and then to court for paper work. Many did not get back to the hotel until midnight. It was a matter of individual conscience whether anyone was arrested; many chose not to, believing that the legislative process has been working well so far. On Wednesday. about 60 were arrested at the Rayburn Building in and near the office of Congressman Bud Shuster of Pennsylvania, who had supported some weakening amendments to ADA. On Thursday, a small group (their numbers reduced because so many were in court) assembled at housing and urban development and asked to see secretary Jack Kemp; he was out of town but Undersecretary Alfred Dellabovi came down. There was a productive talk concerning the Fair Housing Amendment Act of 1988. Some weakening amendments to the Housing Act, relating to access standards, had been proposed; the disability groups strongly opposed. On Friday, some members of ADAPT protested at the Greyhound terminal. Some of the strongest opposition to ADA has come from Greyhound and other private bus companies, who fear that the cost of wheelchair lifts will be excessive. But the disability groups claim as much a right to be on a bus as anyone else. After a glorious week, the participants began the long journey home by train, bus, airplane or dust-covered van. Though many other disability groups were involved, much credit goes to Wade Blank, Mike Auberger, Bob Kafka, and Mark Johnson, all of ADAPT. It‘s too early to tell whether our goals have been reached, but there was a feeling of solidarity. and of a successful crusade on behalf of equal rights for disabled people in employment, in transportation, in housing, in places of public accommodation, in every aspect of American life. That, indeed, is the purpose of the Americans with Disabilities Act. —Richard B. Treanor At the bottom of the page is a Callahan cartoon: Three women in a row. First woman is in a wheelchair and below her it says "M.S." Second woman is standing with a walker and below her it says "M.D." Third woman is very overweight and below her it says "M&Ms".