- Ordre de triPar défaut
Titre de la photo, A → Z
Titre de la photo, Z → A
Date de création, récent → ancien
Date de création, ancien → récent
Date d'ajout, récent → ancien
Date d'ajout, ancien → récent
Note, haute → basse
Note, basse → haute
✔ Nombre de visites, élevé → faible
Nombre de visites, faible → élevé - LangueAfrikaans Argentina AzÉrbaycanca
á¥áá áá£áá Äesky Ãslenska
áá¶áá¶ááááá à¤à¥à¤à¤à¤£à¥ বাà¦à¦²à¦¾
தமிழ௠à²à²¨à³à²¨à²¡ ภาษาà¹à¸à¸¢
ä¸æ (ç¹é«) ä¸æ (é¦æ¸¯) Bahasa Indonesia
Brasil Brezhoneg CatalÃ
ç®ä½ä¸æ Dansk Deutsch
Dhivehi English English
English Español Esperanto
Estonian Finnish Français
Français Gaeilge Galego
Hrvatski Italiano Îλληνικά
íêµì´ LatvieÅ¡u Lëtzebuergesch
Lietuviu Magyar Malay
Nederlands Norwegian nynorsk Norwegian
Polski Português RomânÄ
Slovenšcina Slovensky Srpski
Svenska Türkçe Tiếng Viá»t
Ù¾Ø§Ø±Ø³Û æ¥æ¬èª ÐÑлгаÑÑки
ÐакедонÑки Ðонгол Ð ÑÑÑкий
СÑпÑки УкÑаÑнÑÑка ×¢×ר×ת
اÙعربÙØ© اÙعربÙØ©
Accueil / Albums / Tags wheelchair lifts
+ Atlantis 4
ADAPT (223)
MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way.
ADAPT (117)
Handicapped reach accord RTD Wheelchair-bound demonstrators and the Regional Transportation District reached an “understanding” Friday in a conflict that led the bus company to seek a restraining order against the demonstrators a week ago. Both sides “agreed to agree,” according to RTD spokeswoman Kathy Joyce, who said they would work out the details of the agreement before the issue comes before Denver District Judge Daniel Sparr on Feb. 2 During that time, Sparr will make no decision on RTD’s request for the temporary restraining order. If a formal agreement is reached by Feb. 2, Joyce said the request would be dropped. The demonstrators began staging a sit-in at RTD’s headquarters Jan. 4 over the company’s decision not to place wheelchair lifts on 89 new buses scheduled for delivery next year. The wheelchair-bound activists were from the Atlantis Community and Holistic Approaches to Independent Living Inc. Several of the demonstrators chained themselves to stairwells in the main lobby of the building at 1600 Blake St., and others blocked the front entrance during the demonstration. Their anger was directed at RTD Executive Director L.A. Kimball, whom they blame for the decision to omit the lifts from the new buses. During the sit-in, the building’s elevators were shut off, making it impossible for the demonstrators to reach Kimball’s office. The demonstrators weren’t arrested, but they were escorted from the premises by police and paramedics. RTD requested the temporary restraining order against the demonstrators after the third day of protest, claiming the demonstration caused “disruption, obstruction and interference.” John Holland, an attorney representing the demonstrators, said the issues that led to the demonstrations are still alive, but that both sides will work out their differences in the next two and a half weeks in a climate of more open communication. He said that during that tie his clients will not be “disruptive.”
ADAPT (116)
Denver Post (This article continues in ADAPT 115 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.) "Talk,” Judge Tells RTD, Atlantis By Howard Pankratz Denver Post Legal Affairs Writer Citing what he fears to be increased “polarization” between some of the Denver’s handicapped citizens and the Regional Transportation District, a Denver judge Thursday abruptly halted a hearing involved the two parties, called them into his chambers and asked that they negotiate a settlement to their dispute. The unusual action by Denver District Judge Daniel Sparr came in the midst of a hearing on RTD’s request that Sparr ban some handicapped people from engaging in disruptive demonstrations on RTD property and buses. At all cost, said the judge, he wanted to avoid an “us against them” climate. “It appears it is a confrontation that is not going to do anybody any good,” he said. On January 4, 5 and 6, handicapped individuals, some organized by the Atlantis Community for the disabled, demonstrated at various RTD offices protesting a decision by the RTD Board of Directors not to place wheelchair lifts on 89 high-capacity, articulated buses slated to be added to the RTD bus fleet in 1983. Many of the estimated 16,000 handicapped people in the Denver area feel that the district broke a promise to them when the lifts weren’t provided. Sparr said he felt that if he had to issue a temporary restraining order against the handicapped at the end of the hearing it could only lead to increased polarization and animosity between the district and the handicapped, something he said needs to be avoided. The judge noted that if that order, or subsequent orders were violated, it might result in contempt citations, fines and jail terms for handicapped people.
ADAPT (111)
Handicapped group sues RTD to have lifts put on new buses By Jerry Brown, News Staff The Atlantis Community for the handicapped and six handicapped people sued the Regional Transportation District Monday in an effort to force the transit agency to put wheelchair lifts on 89 buses to be delivered in 1983. The lawsuit, filed in Denver District Court, alleges that the decision not to put lifts on the high-capacity articulated buses violates: * A state civil rights law stipulating that handicapped people “are entitled to full and equal accommodation, advantages, facilities and privileges of all trains, motor buses, street cars, boats or any other public conveyances or modes of transportation.” * A negotiated 1979 court settlement in which RTD promised to put lifts on 176 buses it had purchased earlier and on all new buses, as required by federal regulations in effect at the time. RTD Executive Director L.A. Kimball declined comment. The lawsuit stems from a Nov. 19 decision by RTD’s board of directors to rescind earlier plans to put lifts on the buses. After members of Atlantis and other handicapped people protested, the board reconsidered the decision in December but stuck by its vote not to buy the lifts. According to RTD, the lifts would cost $1.1 million – or $ 12,571 per bus. Eighty percent of the money would come from federal funds, with RTD supplying the rest. RTD officials have said they plan to use the articulated buses – which bend in the middle and hold about 50 percent more passengers than a regular bus – for semi-express service on heavily used routes. RTD originally ordered lifts for the buses because federal regulations in effect when the buses were ordered required them. But the federal regulations were rescinded last summer.