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صفحه اصلی / آلبومها / برچسب ها wheelchairs
+ civil disobedience + ADAPT - American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation 3
ADAPT (307)
SMITH BY JEFF SMITH Title: ROLL MODELS Civil disobedience tends to be a cyclical form of political expression. It only comes into flower every few years, even decades, and during the intermissions of its popularity, the great masses in the political middle tend to forget what an important tool it is. Indeed, civil disobedience is the only legitimate means of effecting change on behalf of minority needs. Mull it over: • A minority with a valid and pressing need to see some public policy created or changed has the option of going to the polls along with everyone else . . . and losing. because it is, after all, a minority. Or: • Its members could arm themselves and turn their minority cause into a guerilla war, which the majority would agree is hardly a legitimate solution. Or: • They could employ the classic, nonviolent, Gandhian stratagem of civil disobedience. Bingo. Which is why I endorse the protest staged recently by American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT). About 200 members of the Denver-based group, most of them in their primary means of transportation — wheelchairs— came here and raised hell a couple of weeks ago with the national convention of the American Public Transportation Association. It was a classic sit-in. Gimps are good at that. But it's been quite a while—a peaceful, soporific, almost brain-dead while—since the civil-rights movement and the Vietnam War era, when sit-ins, protest marches and similar styles of civil disobedience were at all common. And six years of Reagan, four of Carter and three of Ford have turned many of us into conservatives like Phoenix City Councilman Howard Adams, who sympathize the problems of certain minorities, but object to the only tactic they really can use to solve those problems. Adams doesn't think cripples ought to be blocking restaurant and hotel entrances, impeding the comings and goings of conventioneers and blockading buses in order to make their point that most public transit is inaccessible to people in wheelchairs and those rendered nearly immobile by the need for canes and crutches. Adams is not an unsympathetic man: He has both sympathy and empathy for the disabled. In case you didn't know it, Howard Adams is a gimp himself. He was crippled in a swimming accident twenty years ago. And in case you think my characterizations mark me as a churl, know that I'm a gimp, too, coming on six years in a wheelchair after a motorcycle crash. (I got to be churlish independent of paralysis.) So both Howard and I know something of the subject. I simply know more than he does on account of I'm smarter. So listen up: Neither Howard Adams nor Yr. Obdt. Svt. is a decent role model for anyone with ambitions of becoming disabled. I am far too pretty and talented; Howard Adams is too powerful and prosperous. It is way too easy for someone like Adams or me to say, Hey, why don't the rest of you gimps just get your own car or van, like me? Adams is a quadriplegic with a specially equipped van. It is his own rig, but he must get someone else to drive it for him. When he's on city business, or going to and from his Phoenix City Council office, the city provides the driver. I am a paraplegic, somewhat less handicapped than Adams, so I drive myself in a station wagon with hand controls. Now you might think owning a car is virtually within the reach of anyone. Even the poorest hovel might have a Caddy parked outside. And you might say that since Smith and Adams manage so commendably, anybody can work and support a family, and get around to do [missing text here] unaffordable. Sensible people of limited means may own one old beater which one spouse takes to work, while the other rides the bus. Consider that even for Homo erectus, hoofing to the bus stop on hind feet in Hush Puppies and making the necessary connections to get from home in Phoenix to work in Tempe can be a major pain in the ass and add several hours to the workday. Now try it from a wheelchair. Listen: I am about as adapted, chipper and successful a gimp as you're likely to meet, and I don't go to Circle K's anymore. How familiar the ritual: You're driving home and you get a lech for a cold one. You hang a quick right, don't even shut off the engine, you're in and out in a flash, and buzzing nicely on your second beer before you've hit the next stoplight. When you're in a wheelchair you don't do stuff like this anymore. It is simply too much bother. Even for a gimp like me, with great strong arms, catlike grace and his own automobile. I run wheelchair marathons, lift weights three times a week, have the cardiovascular system of a twelve-year-old, but I do not visit Circle K's. It takes too long, requires too much exertion, inflicts too much pain, and maybe there's no ramp. Screw it. If I had to call two days, or as much as a week in advance to arrange to have a special van pick me up—just to make a doctor's appointment or go buy - groceries—I don't know if I could cope. If Howard Adams had to plan his daily schedule around Phoenix bus schedules, which provide wheelchair service on only six of 54 bus routes, I wonder if he would be able to discharge his duties as a councilman. I suppose he would, being the Type A he is. "I haven't showcased my activities," Adams told me, "but I am interested in this issue." Indeed, Adams has just been appointed to President Reagan's Architecture and Transportation . Compliance Board, which oversees enforcement of federal access regulation. Adams said he thinks Phoenix is doing well on handicap access, but if he lived in, say, New York, he might be frustrated and angry. Then would he resort to civil disobedience? "Probably not," he said. "I'd work the [missing text here] That might work for Howard Adams, - but not for all of Jerry's kids. I've learned a lot of stuff about gimps since becoming one — stuff that contradicts most of what I thought I knew before. No two of us are alike. Being paralyzed doesn't mean blessed forgetfulness of the concerns of your formerly functional physiology. You can experience constant pain from the paralyzed parts. You can have involuntary muscles spasms that make it impossible to sit still, and even more difficult to haul around those parts that would be tough enough to move if they just lay there like deadwood. You can run out of popcorn and have to get rest before the day is half done. You can spend two hours getting bathed and dressed to go out in public, only to get just out the door and find you've pissed your pants and have to go back and start all over. Think about these things the next time you scoff at the demands of the disabled for better access to public transportation, for ramps at street corners, for rest rooms with doors wide enough for a wheelchair, for wider aisles in airplanes, elevators in two-story buildings. Think what it means when a six-inch curb is as impassable a barrier as a prison wall. Not figuratively. In fact. Think about these things and think about one thing further: Disability is a very Eighties fashion of affliction, tres chic you could say. With speed sports like sail-boarding, off-roading and even sidewalk surfing being so trendy, lots more of you hip, yuppie dudes and dudettes will be joining me on wheels in the very near future. Think of handicapped access as an investment in your own future. Think of all this the next time you find yourself staring at the convenience market — the one with the cold can of beer— from across a lane of oncoming traffic, and you decide it's just too inconvenient to make a left-hand turn. Believe thee me: You don't have a clue as to what inconvenience is.
ADAPT (267)
THE PLAIN DEALER, THURSDAY, MAY 22; 1986 page 19-A PHOTO by AP: Four policemen in their fancy police hats are "rolling" a man (Rick James) up a 150 degree (ie. almost vertical) "ramp" into a van. Rick is sitting with his hands up by his chest. His hat is missing and his hair is flying out in all directions. His expression is a mix of amazement, disgust and resignation. Caption reads: Cincinnati policemen push Rick James of Salt Lake City, Utah, up a ramp into a van after he was arrested outside a downtown hotel as part of a demonstration by American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation. Title: Cincy arrests disabled in protest of bus access By BILL SLOAT STAFF writer CINCINNATI — Police arrested l7 disabled people yesterday after they blockaded the entrance to a downtown hotel or chained themselves to the doorway of an adjoining office building that houses Queen City Metro, this city’s public bus service. Eleven of them refused to post bond and were in Hamilton County Justice Center under cash bonds ranging from $1,500 to $3,000. Five were released late yesterday on personal bonds. One pleaded no contest to disorderly conduct and was found guilty. Sixteen were in wheelchairs from polio, paralyzing spinal accidents, multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy and amputations. One was blind and walked carrying a white cane. The arrests were made during a non-violent, noon demonstration that challenged lack of access to city buses here and around the nation. Chants of “We will ride" and “Access now” came from about 52 demonstrators outside the Westin Hotel. Some removed footstands from their wheelchairs and banged on metal barricades. Police stood behind the barricades and refused to let the demonstrators into the hotel. All 17 taken to jail said they were members of a national handicapped rights organization called American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation. “This is a civil disobedience action," said Wade Blank, 47, a Presbyterian minister who helped organize yesterday's protest. Blank, who now lives in Denver, was involved in anti-war demonstrations at Kent State University in the 1960s when he lived in Akron. Several of the people loaded onto vans and hauled away to the Hamilton County Justice Center on disorderly conduct charges compared Cincinnati to Selma and Montgomery, two Alabama cities where civil rights activists were jailed by authorities in the 1960s. “The message needs to be sent out that we can’t ride a bus because we're handicapped,” said Glenn Horton, 46, of El Paso, Texas. "It's discrimination it’s segregation and it’s appalling that it could still be happening in this country." Horton said he had been confined to a wheelchair since age 9, when he fell and broke his back. Bill Bolte, 54, of Los Angeles, said handicapped people needed mainline bus service to get to jobs, movies, dates, shopping, banks and anywhere else they might want to go. “We're already in prison," said Bolte, who had polio 51 years ago. “We're going to see that what few rights we have are not going to be taken away. Our rights to public transportation are being deprived, and we will not sit for it." Organizers of the protest said they took to the streets because about 600 executives of public and private transit companies in the eastern United States and Canada were attending a convention in the hotel that ends today. Protesters said the convention should adopt a resolution supporting the installation of wheelchair lifts on all public buses in the nation. Many came from Denver, which has such lifts in use on its bus fleet. The demonstration also came a day after the U.S. Department of Transportation announced in Washington, D.C., a new regulation that allows transit authorities to establish alternative services for the disabled instead of putting lifts on regularly scheduled buses. Demonstrators complained the rule meant that buses, subways and rail lines wouldn't be made accessible to people in wheelchairs. Police Chief Lawrence Whalen said the comparisons with Alabama in the 1960s were unfair when it came to the police. Police in the South during the civil rights era often brutalized protesters. Whalen yesterday said, “Our officers handled themselves very admirably. The group has had their chance to protest and get their point across." He said the police assigned to make arrests had attended special briefings on how to handle disabled people and were instructed to ask the people in custody the best way to lift them into vans. “We wanted to be sensitive to their special needs." Whalen said. Three of those arrested yesterday were out on $3,000 bond after incidents Monday when two climbed aboard city buses, paid fares and refused to leave when ordered off by Queen City Metro officials. The third interfered with a bus. The three, Robert A. Kafka, 40, of Austin, Texas; George Cooper, 58, of Irving, Texas; and Michael W. Auberger, 32, of Denver, were charged yesterday with Criminal trespassing when they chained themselves to the entranceway of Queen City Metro's offices. Police Capt. Dale Menkhaus told his men to use bolt cutters to get them out of the building. Kafka, Cooper and Auberger had been ordered Tuesday not to set foot in Cincinnati by a Municipal judge at the time they posted bond, but another Municipal judge lifted the banning order shortly before yesterday's protests started. Police Chief Lawrence Whalen said 14 others were charged with disorderly conduct for their activities outside the hotel. Bond was set at $3,000 each, a Hamilton County Municipal Court official said. Before the demonstration began, the group gathered in a Newport, Ky., motel for a strategy session on civil disobedience. They agreed not to carry anything but identification with them when they confronted police in downtown Cincinnati and they voted not to post bail. None of the people arrested were from Ohio. The 11 who refused to post bond and were in jail last night are: Bolte; Bob Conrad of Denver; Joe Carle of Denver; Auberger; Horton; Jim Parker of El Paso, Texas; Cooper; George Roberts of Denver; Earnest Taylor of Hartford, Conn.; Lonnie Smith of Denver; Kafka. Kelly Bates of Denver pleaded no contest to disorderly conduct, was found guilty and sentenced to 30 days in jail, which she is to start serving tomorrow. Those released on personal bond are Ken Heard of Denver; George Florman of Colorado Springs, Colo.; Frank Lozano of El Paso, Texas; Rick James of Salt Lake City, Utah; and Arthur Campbell of Louisville, Ky.
ADAPT (261)
The Cincinnati Post Thursday May 22, 1986 1B [This article continues in ADAPT 251, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by Patrick Reddy/The Cincinnati Post: A lone man in a wheelchair (Glenn Horton) sits in front of a metal police barricade. He wears his pale ADAPT T-shirt with the ADAPT no steps logo imprinted in black on the front. He looks casual but determined, with one foot resting higher on his chair than the other, and his hands folded in his lap. Behind him is cavernous black, some kind of entrance. And around him stand four police officers dressed in dark colors, with light colored hats with eye shades. Each officer is looking determinedly in a different direction. Caption reads: Four police officers look on as Glenn Horton of El Paso, Texas, waits for a van to take him to the Hamilton County Jail after he was arrested at a protest at the Westin Hotel. Horton was among 17 disabled protesters arrested Wednesday. Title: Protesters ready for long jail stay Post staff report Comparing Cincinnati to Selma, Ala., in the 1960s, 11 members of a handicapped activist group are vowing to stay in jail to end alleged discrimination against the handicapped. Of 17 disabled protesters arrested Wednesday, 14 were charged with disorderly conduct for blocking the Westin Hotel entrance. Three were charged with criminal trespassing after chaining themselves to the front doors of Queen City Metro’s offices at 6 E. Fourth St., downtown. Scheduled court dates ranged from May 28 through June 2, so some of the protesters could be in jail for as long as 12 days. Demonstrating against lack of access to Queen City Metro buses, members of Americans Disabled tor Accessible Public Transportation have timed protests this week to coincide with an American Public Transit Association conference at the Westin. The five-day conference ended Wednesday night. “This (Cincinnati) is the Selma, Ala., of the disabled civil rights movement,” said the Rev. Wade Blank of Denver, a founder of ADAPT. “People from all over the country have been calling to say they are willing to get arrested. This has not happened in many cities.” Access Service, Queen City's alternative transit system for the elderly and handicapped, is inadequate and overloaded, ADAPT members say. “We are committed and the people who got involved in this knew it would be more than an overnight stay in jail," said Stephanie Thomas, an ADAPT organizer. “We will not post bond for them." The 11 jailed ADAPT members have been separated from the rest of the prison population and have a full-time employee watching over them at the Hamilton County Justice Center, said Victor Carrelli, Hamilton County chief deputy sheriff. Hamilton County Municipal Judge David Albanese held a special two-hour hearing Wednesday for the 17 under judicial orders covering mass arrests or civil disobedience cases. Those charged with crimi nal trespassing were Michael W. Auberger, 32, of Denver, Colo.; George Cooper Jr., 58, of Irving, Texas, and Robert Kafka, 40, of Austin, Texas. Albanese set bond for the three, who pleaded not guilty, at $3000 cash and "banned them from the city if they chose to post bond. They did not. Kelli Bates, 21, of Denver, the only woman arrested, was the only ADAPT member to plead no contest to a disorderly conduct charge against her. Albanese found her guilty and sentenced her to 30 days in jail if she has not left the city by Friday or enters the city before Friday. Lonnie Smith, 30, of Denver, charged with resisting arrest and disorderly conduct, pleaded not guilty. Albanese set a $2500 10-percent bond for the resisting charge and a $1500 10-percent bond for the disorderly conduct charge. Those pleading not guilty to charges of disorderly conduct and placed on a $1500 10 percent cash bond were Ernest Taylor, 31, of Hartford, Conn.; William Bolte, 54, of’ Los Angeles; Glenn Horton, 46, of El Paso, Texas; Joseph Carl, 47, of Denver, and James Parker, 40, of E1 Paso. Those pleading not guilty to charges of disorderly conduct and given higher bonds because of prior records were Robert Conrad, 32, of Denver, on a $2000 10-percent cash bond and George Roberts, 37, of Denver on a $3000 10-percent cash bond. Those pleading not guilty to charges of disorderly conduct and released on a $1500 unsecured bond because of medical problems were Arthur Campbell, 39," of Louisville; Kenneth Heart, 36, of Denver; Efrain Lozazno, 35, of El Paso; George Florom, 43, of Colorado Springs, Col; and Rick James, 36, of Salt Lake City. In all cases where bond could be posted, Albanese warned the people not to return to Cincinnati except for court appearances or meetings with their attorneys. Prosecutor Charles A. Rubenstein in many of the cases protested Albanese’s decision to allow the prisoners to be released on bonds. “There is a great likelihood if they are released on bond they would create "further problems and turn this court into a revolving door,” he said. However, James Nicholas of the public defenders office, who was appointed to aid the group's privately hired legal counsel, said "the group would cause no further problems. “The reason that they came, here is finished. They have no reason to remain." After the hearings were finished, Nicholas said most members of the group had vowed to remain in jail.