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الرئيسية / الألبومات / الكلمات الدلائلية Handicapped Coloradan
+ Wade Blank 4
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 (356)
Handicapped Coloradan October 1987 Title: 123 arrested in San Francisco ADAPT blocks cable cars For years San Francisco area disabled rights activists chose to look the other way as that city's historic cable cars transported tourists and locals up and down the steep hills in cars inaccessible to persons in wheelchairs. And then ADAPT (the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit) hit town. On Tuesday, Sept. 29, scores of wheelchair militants dodged police barricades and, hauled their wheelchairs onto the cable car turntable at Market Street. Protesters managed to prevent the cable cars from moving for more than two hours until police cut the chains they were using to attach their wheelchairs to the turntable. Of the 75 protesters arrested on the spot, 43 were booked and spent the night on cots in the county prison gymnasium on the seventh floor of the Hall of Justice. Outside the hall, 80 persons in wheelchairs maintained a candlelight vigil throughout the night. Many tourists were upset with the protesters, yelling at them that they were ruining their vacation. Protesters replied that the tourists' inconvenience would last only a few hours, while they faced a lifetime of inaccessible public transportation. ADAPT was in San Francisco to make just that point to the several thousand delegates attending the national convention of the American Public Transit Association (APTA), a trade group which represents most of the country's transit providers. Some 123 demonstrators were arrested during the San Francisco protest. "Every year it's a new record for the Guinness book," said Wade Blank, one of ADAPT's founders. Many of the other arrests took place as wheelchair activists blocked buses and streets to prevent APTA delegates from attending social functions outside the convention hall. A highlight of the week-long action was a Sunday parade when more than 500 demonstrators formed an eight-block-long river of wheelchairs. "It's got to be one of the most moving and impressive sights I've ever witnessed," Blank said. San Francisco police complimented the demonstrators on their organizational abilities, according to Blank. "We couldn't have done this a few years ago," he said. Blank said one of the highlights of the week for him was when police stopped APTA's executive director Jack Gilstrap from climbing over a fence to avoid a confrontation with the demonstrators.
ADAPT (296)
Handicapped Coloradan Volume 9, No. 3, Boulder Colorado October 1986 [There are two articles included here.] Headline: Rosa bows out at last minute PHOTO: by Melanie Stengel, courtesy of UPI Three uniformed police officers surround a woman in a scooter (Edith Harris) and hold her arms. They are in front of a city bus, and behind them you can see a fourth officer and a city building. The caption reads: EDITH HARRIS, 62, of Hartford, Conn., is arrested by police during demonstrations in Detroit in early October. Harris, a grandmother who lost her legs to diabetes, was in Detroit to picket the national convention of the American Public Transit Association (APTA). Harris has participated in similar demonstrations in Washington, D.C, and Los Angeles, Calif. She was also arrested in both those cities. Ironically, Harris compares herself to Rosa Parks, the black civil rights leader who decided at the last minute not to participate in the Detroit transit demonstrations. Title: Blacks blast ADAPT [This article continues in ADAPT 288 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] Civil rights heroine Rosa Parks shocked disabled groups when she said at the last minute that she would not participate in any actions protesting Detroit's lack of accessible public transit. “We do not wish any American to be discriminated against in transportation or any other form that reduces their equality and dignity," Elaine Steele an assistant to Parks, said in a letter dated Oct. 3 and delivered to Wade Blank, co-founder of the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT). "However," we cannot condone disruption of Detroit city services." Parks had said she would appear at a Sunday, Oct. 5, news conference and possibly lead a march across Detroit. Steele said that Parks "supports active peaceful protest of human rights issues, not tactics that will embarrass the city's guests and cripple the city's present transportation system.“ Blank said he asked Steele how their tactics differed from those used by Parks and other blacks to fight segregation in the South in the 1950s and 1960s but she was unable to provide him with a satisfactory answer. Parks is credited with igniting the civil rights movement when she refused to give up her seat to a white man on a Montgomery, Ala. bus in 1956. Parks' defiant action caused a Montgomery minister, Martin Luther King, Jr. to organize a black boycott of that city's buses. Detroit Mayor Coleman Young and CBS newsman Ed Bradley — both black -- were scheduled to address the national convention of the American Public Transit Association (APTA) and reportedly asked Parks not to embarrass them by participating in the ADAPT action. Blank said that Parks had wavered once or twice in the weeks before the convention, but that he had managed to persuade her to stick to her original decision. But less than a week before the convention opened, Parks and her staff met in long session, and decided to support ADAPT. The Handicapped Coloradan has so far been unable to reach Parks or her representatives to learn what made her change her mind so suddenly. Blank said that he "wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Chrysler or Ford told her that they wouldn't contribute to the Rosa L. Parks Shrine if she went through with the action.” Parks is currently involved in raising money to commemorate her role and that of other blacks in the struggle for equality. But Blank stopped short of condemning Parks, saying that the 74-year-old leader has earned the respect of everyone for her actions in the 1950s. He said, "Maybe it just isn't her time any more. If I had known we were going to put her on the spot like this, I wouldn't have done it. She was under a lot of pressure. Apparently the phone never stopped ringing.” However, Blank had plenty to say about Bradley, who is a regular on the highly rated television news program "60 Minutes." Before giving a speech on apartheid in South Africa, Bradley told the 2300 APTA delegates that ADAPT had asked him not to appear at the convention. Bradley said he talked with both Young and Parks and all three agreed that they did not approve of the tactics used by the disabled group. Blank said he tried to contact Bradley by phone on at least six different occasions during the two months preceding the convention but was never able to get past his secretary." "We wanted to explain our position, but he apparently wasn't interested. This may tell you just how much homework they do on ‘6O Minutes.' Maybe people who make their living by intimidating others can't take it themselves," Blank said, referring to the often adversarial approach used on the program. “Blank said he was never able to ‘get through to Young directly but a member of Young's staff said they were welcome to ride the city's buses. "Then they arrested us for doing just that," he said. The state of Michigan requires that all transit systems receiving state funds be wheelchair accessible, but the city of Detroit avoids that requirement by financing its own transit system. Representatives of the suburban Southeastern Michigan Transportation Authority (SEMTA), which is accessible, said it would be willing to introduce a pro-accessibility resolution at the next APTA convention if it can find two or three co-sponsors, according to Blank. Young defended ‘Detroit's policy at a news conference by saying that he couldn't "make gold out of straw" to pay for the lifts. Young attacked ADAPT for employing “sabotage and sensationalism” and accused the group of taking "advantage of their disabilities" to block buses and get publicity for their cause. “That's not the way to win cooperation," he said. Blank said the only time people in power take notice of disabled people is when they engage in civil disobedience, pointing out the efforts their opponents made to discredit ADAPT. “The police told us that APTA had told them we were urban terrorists." He said he was sure few people in Detroit knew of the difficulties encountered by persons with disabilities in using public transit before ADAPT hit town. Blank said he tried to get Jesse Jackson and his rainbow coalition to support ADAPT in Detroit, but every time he telephoned he was told that “Jesse was in the air" flying to another appearance. Some members of Jackson's other group, PUSH, did participate in some of the Detroit demonstrations. Blank said he was saddened that so many blacks could not understand ADAPT's motives. “I guess it was just one human race story running up against another" he said. PHOTO: The dark figures of 3 Detroit police officers loom into the frame from all sides. Through a small hole between their arms you can see the face and chest of a man (Ken Heard) they are surrounding. Below their arms you can see the wheels and frame Ken's wheelchair. Caption reads: Detroit police had their hands full when they placed Ken Heard under arrest. Title of 2nd article: 54 arrested in transit showdown [This article is continued in ADAPT 295 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] At least 54 demonstrators were arrested in Detroit as disabled groups once again laid siege to a national convention of their arch-foe, the American Public Transit Association (APTA). Seventeen or 18 protesters (accounts vary) were arrested Monday, Oct. 6, when they attempted to board -- and block -- Detroit city buses, which are mostly not equipped with wheelchair lifts. Those arrested were released on a $l00 personal bond and were ordered not to participate in any actions that would lead to a second arrest. The next day, Tuesday, Oct. 7, 37 protesters, including 13 repeat offenders, were booked by police for blocking one of the two entrances to the McNamara federal office building. Twenty-four of these were released after posting the $100 personal bond apiece, but the repeat offenders had bail set at $1,000 each. Even as the protesters, primarily members of the militant American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), began pouring into Detroit Friday night, the Wayne County jail was already filled to its 1700 person capacity and was turning away all prisoners charged with misdemeanors. The 13 two-time offenders were held Tuesday night in a gym at police headquarters which has bars on the windows and which has been used on other occasions as a holding area for prisoners waiting to be incarcerated. Ironically, the gym's facilities were not accessible to persons in wheelchairs, and police were obliged to carry their disabled prisoners when they needed to use the restrooms. Outside police headquarters, another 60 demonstrators gathered and staged an all-night candlelight vigil. As in other cities where ADAPT has staged demonstrations in its fight to win mandatory accessible public transit, the police said they were in a [unreadable.] More than one officer complained that you can't help but look bad when you arrest someone in a wheelchair. The Detroit police had received briefings from other cities visited by ADAPT and had given some special training to officers in dealing with disabled protesters. ADAPT had originally been granted a parade permit to stage a march on the Westin Hotel where APTA conventioneers were meeting, but Mayor Coleman Young and police went to the city council and got the permit rescinded. No parade permit was issued when ADAPT marched on APTA in Los Angeles, but police made no attempt to push the marchers off the streets and in fact routed traffic away from the demonstrators. However, in Detroit police dogged ADAPT marchers for two miles, making [unreadable] protesters stuck to the sidewalks, even when obstacles such as a large puddle of water hampered, their progress. ADAPT spokesperson Wade Blank said the Detroit action cost $20,000 and that the group was seeking additional financial assistance to continue to press their fight, which has taken them to APTA's national conventions in Denver, Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles, as well as to regional meetings in San Antonio, San Diego, and Cincinnati. Blank said several reporters asked him about reports that ADAPT was being funded by lift manufacturers. “I’m sure someone with APTA planted that question to try and discredit us,” he said. Blank said ADAPT had received contributions of $100 each from two lift manufacturers but that this was for other projects. “Besides, that isn’t enough to make bail for more than two people." APTA'S 1987 convention is set for San Francisco and ADAPT is already beginning to lay the groundwork for disrupting that meeting. “People ask why we do these kinds of things (civil disobedience)," Blank said. “But look how much publicity we get. People are finally getting the word about what public transit really means to someone in a wheelchair.” California has required all public transit systems to convert to accessible systems as they replace old equipment, but Blank said he’s heard that there have been some problems with the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) in recent months. But before they head for San Francisco, ADAPT has been asked by disabled groups in Boston for assistance in setting up a program to pursue accessible transit there.
ADAPT (1789)
The Handicapped Coloradan / Page 15 & 16 [This article continues in ADAPT 1786, but has been completely included here for easier reading.] Title: "If heaven isn't accessible God had better Watch out!" Photo: Waist up picture of Wade Blank with his below shoulder length blonde hair and round tinted glasses. He is smiling and wearing a vest. Caption reads: Wade Blank ADAPT founder dies in Mexico. Wade Blank went down to Baja, California, in February and drowned there trying to save his eight year old son Lincoln. He was there vacationing with his family. The money for the trip came from Wade’s share of a legal settlement in San Francisco when bad guys violated the civil rights of ADAPT demonstrators. He couldn't afford that kind of trip on his own. He never made more than $16,000 in his life. Lincoln was in the water swimming. An undertow got him and Wade went in after him. He had to know there was very little chance either one would survive. Some fisherman from a nearby village fished Wade’ s body from the water. His wife Molly brought his body home and they covered the coffin with an American flag. Only the stars on this flag formed a wheelchair. Lincoln’s body was never recovered. A few days before he left on that vacation, I told him to skip Baja and its treacherous waters for the calmer seas off Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula. Wade said he’d think about it but we both knew he wouldn’t alter his plans. Wade Blank liked to be where the action was. Many of the 1100 people who filled the ballroom at the Radisson Hotel on Sunday, Feb. 21, to say goodbye to their fallen comrade had accompanied him into battle. “If heaven isn’t accessible,” one of them warned, “God better watch out!” Wade founded the Atlantis Community in 1975 when he helped several disabled people move out of a nursing home and into their own apartments. Then he went on to help organize protests against RTD for not having wheelchairs lifts on its buses, a move that later led to the creation of ADAPT, which then stood for American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (“The hard part is getting the acronym right,” he told me at the time.) I asked Tom Olin who was going to replace Wade. “No one,” he said. “Wade was into empowering disabled people. It’s a tribute to him that we’ll just keep on going.” Maybe. But it won’t be the same. People like Wade Blank don't come along very often. A writer for Westward once called Wade the nearest thing to a saint he had ever met. But Wade wasn’t perfect. After all, he was a Cleveland Browns’ fan. He had it so bad that on game day he’d call home to his folks in Ohio and have them put the phone next to the radio. He was president of the Cleveland Browns Fans in Exile Club. A small part of him died when Elway found Jackson in the end zone in the 1987 AFC Championship game. He was a devoted father who had a vasectomy reversed after he married Molly. He called me soon after the operation and bitched about having to lie still to prevent the tubes from severing again. It was the only time I knew him to stay still. The time spent was worth it. He loved Lincoln and Caitlan just as he loved Heather, his adopted daughter. He instilled in them special values. A neighbor recalled a time when she came home and observed Lincoln in front of his house directing some other kids. They weren't playing cowboy and Indian or war or any of the usual childhood games. They were playing rally. “All right,” Lincoln said. “United we stand, never apart.” Wade was a Presbyterian minister whose language would make a coal miner blush. I quoted him a lot on these pages over the past ten years or so but I never quoted him accurately. He used four letter words the way other people use punctuation. Someone made a TV movie about the events at Heritage Nursing Home and Wade said it was close to the truth. But the actor who played Wade didn’t quite capture his style. Wade wore his hair long and looked a little like a construction worker who took a wrong tum back in the 1960s. He once asked me if I wore ties. “I own one,” I said. “It keeps my sleeping bag rolled up.” He liked that. He hated ties. At the memorial service, those few men who showed up wearing ties were asked to remove them—out of respect. By then I owned a real tie. You can‘t go to a funeral in my small hometown without one. I left it at home for Wade. He didn’t have the eloquence of a Martin Luther King. He didn't need it. He wasn’t interested in grabbing the spotlight for himself. He taught his friends that their wheelchairs were a weapon and if they used them right, the whole world would take notice. RTD took notice. Denver became one of the first cities in the U.S. to adopt accessible public transit. Wade helped carry that message to countless other cities. He showed people how they could make a statement by going to jail and then he went out and raised the bail money. Eventually, in a parking lot in Atlanta, the feds gave in. Accessible public transit would be the law of the land. Wade wasn’t about to rest on his laurels. He turned his attention to an earlier cause. ADAPT changed the acronym to American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today and took on the nursing home industry. Wade knew that the disabled warriors who took on the federal government over accessible transit and got themselves arrested scores of times were strong enough to live in their own homes. He vowed to force the federal government to take money away from the nursing homes and make that dream a reality. That battle goes on. His friends at ADAPT are planning a memorial service in his honor in Washington, D.C. this May. At the same time, they’re going to make sure Bill Clinton honors his promises to provide funds for such attendant care. It's a fitting memorial but you can find plenty of monuments to Wade Blank in this country. There one at every street comer where there’s a curb cut and one on every bus equipped with a lift. And every time someone who is exploited because of a physical disability raises a fist in defiance and fights for his or her freedom and humanity, you’ll see Wade’s image in their eyes and his dream in their hearts. So long, Wade. If it’s really heaven, there won’t be a dress code. Written by Tom Schantz