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الرئيسية / الألبومات / كلمة دلائلية cost 53
تاريخ الصورة / 2013 / جولاي
- ADAPT (350)
San Francisco Bay Guardian 9/23/87 Disabled to march for transit access By: Cheryl Davis When members of the American Public Transit Association gather in San Francisco during the last week of September, they will be met by disabled people from across the country who plan to demonstrate against a national transit policy they say is unfair because it separates them from other transit users. Specifically, disabled activists intend to protest the widespread use of special vans to transport disabled riders door-to-door, a system commonly referred to as “paratransit.” That system, they say, is a form of segregation. In its place, they argue, all buses and trains should be equipped to accommodate people in wheelchairs as part of as overall policy fully integrating the disabled into society. “Full accessibility,” they argue, is a right that should not be denied because of cost. Paratransit is impractical as well as offensive, disabled transit riders say. Burr Overstreet, a Santa Rosa man who uses a wheelchair, called paratransit “a paternalistic system that screws people over, costs a fortune and it’s the first thing cut during economic downturns.” Paratransit users “are made to feel like helpless hospital patients,” Les Treece-Sinclair, a wheelchair user and staff person at the September Alliance for Accessible Transportation, a Northern California coalition, told the Bay Guardian. Most Bay Area transit districts, including the San Francisco Municipal Railway, use a combination of buses with lifts and paratransit vans for disabled and elderly patrons, and California law requires that all new buses be equipped with lifts. Local transit agencies have a good reputation nationally for working closely with disabled and elderly patrons. But, even so, there are problems. “Supposedly we [in Marin] have one of the better systems,” Overstreet said. “The combination of fixed-route and paratransit should in theory be fairly effective, but it’s not. The paratransit only runs Monday through Friday, 9 am to 3 pm. Disabled riders have to reserve in advance and disabled people who work cannot use such a paratransit system either to work or to socialize.” “Paratransit doesn’t come close to meeting the transport need of elderly and handicapped people,” said Treece-Sinclair. “At the moment, on many bus lines only every third or fourth bus will be accessible.” Jose Rodriguez, a public information officer for the Metropolitan Transit Commission, told the Bay Guardian Bay Area transit districts “are working hard to meet a basic level of service but we are aware of the need for improvement. As always, this is contingent on securing needed funds.” The debate between disabled people and much of the public transit industry centers around interpretations of Section 504 of the 1973 Rehabilitation Act, which states that persons with handicaps cannot be discriminated against under any program receiving federal funds. Since mass transit relies heavily on federal funds, Section 504 serves as a rallying point for disabled activists who argue for making all public transit wheelchair-accessible. The U.S. Department of Transportation in 1979 issued regulations that required full wheelchair access on newly ordered buses and called for retrofitting existing buses and modifying portions of existing rail systems to accommodate disabled users. Disable activists applauded the regulations, but APTA lobbied Congress vigorously, claiming the regulations were costly, unworkable and designed to reach only a small percentage of the disabled population. A 1979 Congressional Budget Office report supported APTA’s claims and called instead for paratransit systems. APTA sued to overturn DOT’s regulations and the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia ruled in 1981 that the regulations exceeded the scope of the Rehabilitation Act. DOT interim regulations gave local communities the option of determining levels of accessibility and many transit districts opted for paratransit. Paratransit advocates argue that outfitting buses with lifts and other special equipment is too expensive, given the number of disabled riders. Santa Clara County Supervisor Tom Legan, for example, said at a January board meeting, “We’re spending $3.5 million per year [maintaining] lifts for what amounts to 57 boardings per year.” But disabled activists say the official estimates of disabled ridership are too low. Palo Alto resident Brian Bolitho, who uses a wheelchair, told the Bay Guardian his commute to work alone account for more than 200 boardings per year on Santa Clara buses. Dennis Cannon, a transportation, specialist the federal Architectural and Transportation Barriers Compliance Board, told the Bay Guardian, “The actual use of accessible buses could be five times higher, or more, than transit agency estimates. The driver often simply guesses the number of obviously disabled passengers.” Much of the expense of repairing lifts, Cannon added, could be avoided by improved maintenance and better training of bus operators. Some APTA members, Canon said, are reappraising the adequacy of paratransit. James Lee, accessibility coordinator for Alameda County Transit, agreed. “Since 1976, study after study has documented the inadequacy of paratransit. It is not cost-effective, nor is it demand responsive,” he told the Bay Guardian. - ADAPT (319)
The Arizona Republic, Monday April 8, 1987 Title: Handicapped Hold Protest Photo by Pete Peters/Republic: People in wheelchairs in ADAPT T-shirts form a picket line in front of a hotel, the Regency Phoenix. They are holding posters. Behind them, in the shadows of the entrance-way to the hotel people are standing looking on. Caption reads: Members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit picket before the Hyatt Regency. The ADAPT demonstrators have targeted a meeting by the American Public Transit Association. Photo top right Photo by Pete Peters/Republic: A woman standing uses a sprayer to cool a woman in a wheelchair holding a large poster. caption reads: Carla Montez squirts Kelli Bates with cool water. They traveled to Phoenix from Denver to participate in an ADAPT protest. subtitle: Disrupt event; ask transit access By Chuck Hawley The Arizona Republic About 100 members of a militant group of wheelchair-bound activists blocked the roads and entrances to Rustler’s Roost on Sunday night in an attempt to stop those attending a steak fry for the American Public Transit Association’s convention. Chanting and carrying place cards members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit lined up across the two roads, a stairway leading form a lower parking lot and the doors including the handicapped entrance to the restaurant, which is at the Pointe at South Mountain. Police monitored the protest. The 450 people attending the weeklong convention arrived in six Phoenix buses. Some were forced to scramble up a steep gravel incline and enter through the kitchen. Others walked up the back driveway. “We plan to be here all week and to inconvenience you as much as we can,” called out one protestor, who was blocking the stairs. Earlier in the day, protestor had picketed at the Hyatt Regency, where the conventioneers are staying. The protestors at the restaurant carried placards that said, “Police wagons accessible; buses not,” and chanted, “What do we want? Access. When do we want it? Now.” The group, well-known for militant protests across the country, wants all public transit to be accessible to the wheelchair-bound. “I think they have a just cause, but I think they are carrying it to an extreme,” said Bob Hicken, general manager of the Phoenix Transit System, who walked up the hill from the lower parking lot. “We’d like to serve them all, but we can’t. If there were enough money in the world, we could do everything we wanted to.” - ADAPT (322)
Logo of a sun. The Arizona Republic April 13, 1987, Phoenix, Arizona [This story continues in ADAPT 314 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by David Petkiewicz/Republic: A large group of people are standing, heading into the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Among those standing some people in wheelchairs are visible, and a reporter is there with a camera. Caption reads: Wheelchair-bound protesters and their supporters gather at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Phoenix. The group converged on the American Public Transit Association's convention at the hotel last week. Title: Driven by anger, disabled man has fought long, hard for access. By CHUCK HAWLEY The Arizona Republic Mike Landwehr pushes his own wheelchair, but it's really anger that drives the wheels. "Every day, my anger is brought forward again when l have to push my wheelchair 10 blocks in my own hometown,“ said Landwehr, a Chicago man who has been arrested a dozen or more times since 1978 while demonstrating for access to public transportation for the disabled. “I'm running out of patience.” Landwehr spent much of last week in Phoenix as a spokesman for American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit. The Denver-based group has a reputation of “getting in the face" of public officials by creating ruckuses at meetings of the American Public Transit Association, a group Landwehr describes as "the enemy." Surrounding hotels, restaurants and buses where transportation officials meet, ADAPT members express demands in rhythmic chants: “What do we want? "Access! “When do we want it? "Now!" It is, the group says, a civil-rights demonstration. Howard Adams is not driven by anger, although he was paralyzed from the neck down in a swimming accident 20 years ago. Adams, a Phoenix councilman, said disability is something he lives with, but he doesn't thrive on it. "I‘m not an expert on it,“ Adams said, “it's not the most important thing in my life." He disagrees with the civil-disobedience tactics used by ADAPT. "I guess I pour my anger into other things," he said. Adams, who served in the Arizona Legislature before his election to the City Council, recently was appointed by President Reagan to the 22-member Architectural and Transportation Compliance Board. The board oversees enforcement of federal regulations governing access for the disabled. It can recommend withholding federal funds from any organization or local government that fails to meet federal requirements for access, Adams said. Although Adams does not use city buses regularly, he said, he has used them and believes Phoenix "is in pretty good shape" with respect to disabled people. The demonstrators, he says, have a beef with the American Public Transportation Association, not with Phoenix. "The goal has always been equal opportunity and to participate in all aspects of life as best as they can," Adams said. "I agree with their goals, but I don't agree with their tactics. "They were not here to point a finger at Phoenix. They were here to protest to a group that provides public transportation to people around the country." Public transportation in Phoenix is inadequate for all people, not just the disabled, Adams said. "If I wanted to go to the council chambers right now, (8:30 p.m.) I couldn't get there on the bus anyway," he said. "If I were in a city with a higher population density, such as Chicago or New York, it would be a different story. I would expect to be able to." Adams said there appear to be "some people who are professionally disabled just like there are people who will always be soldiers in World War II." "We all carry burdens with us, but we have to overcome them," he said. "You can't take away all of the problems everybody has; you just can't. "But, to the extent that society has created barriers, you have to remove them, and I think we are doing it here." Because he uses a lift-equipped van, Adams does not ride Phoenix buses often, but he said he is not unfamiliar with the difficulty of getting from one city to another. In Los Angeles recently, he said, he was told that he could board a plane in a folding wheelchair and that his battery-operated machine would have to be left behind for a later flight in a baggage compartment. "I have trouble with airlines," he said. "They don't care. They just want to get you out of there." When his motorized chair arrived in Phoenix on a later plane, he said, "there was $2,000 in damage to it." Landwehr, 43, was born with spinal bifida, a severe birth defect that now often is correctable. New surgical techniques came too late for him, however. He lost the use of his legs during surgery when he was 12 years old. Landwehr remembers that he once tried to deny his disability, shun his wheelchair and be like everyone else. "I would get myself seated in a restaurant and ask the waitress to take my chair away and fold it up in a corner," he said. "It was a way of being like everyone else. Deep down, disabled people strive to appear not disabled.” It was painful, he said, when his parents had to move from Chicago because he could not attend public high schools there with able-bodied teen-agers. The family moved 60 miles to the suburbs after rejecting the Chicago school system's offer to provide a special bus to pick him up and deliver him to a school for the handicapped, the only school he said school officials would allow him to attend. "Thank God they (his parents) knew I would only learn to live in an institution," he said. In the suburbs, Landwehr said, he struggled to lift himself into a school bus unequipped for handicapped people. Daily, he lifted himself up the school steps as other teen-agers watched. "I know what it is like to be stared at," he said. "It's painful." It also is painful, he said, that Chicago, the nation's third-most-populous city, after New York and Los Angeles, has no city buses with wheelchair lifts for the disabled. Landwehr said that the daily difficulty of overcoming obstacles just to gain access to places others take for granted has hardened his stance for total access. He is militant. Arrests and abuse do not appear to faze him. Embarrassing others and taking the risk of alienating the public also do not seem to faze him. "There is nobody more alienated than people living in little rooms in institutions," Landwehr said. "We want to expose the public to the full range of people who are disabled. "I think our presence here at least gives the public the opportunity to reflect upon their perceptions of disabilities and disabled people. "We hope that a byproduct of our presence will give us some leverage with local politicians." Landwehr, who studied journalism and psychology at the University of Illinois but didn't earn a degree, is unemployed. He once worked with the Disability Rights Defense Fund in Washington, D.C., until federal funding for the group was cut. "We fooled them, though," he said. "Twenty-two of us started collecting Social Security disability checks and just kept on working, doing what we had been doing until the money ran out." Public officials sometimes complain that the cost of total access for the disabled is too great and the need too small. Landwehr says he doesn't believe it. For example, Milwaukee once touted the purchase of lift-equipped buses but operated them randomly on unannounced routes. Photos above: head shots of Howard Adams in white shirt and tie, and Mike Landwher with flannel shirt and mustache. Caption reads: Howard Adams (left) and Mike Landwehr both are disabled, but Adams disagrees with the civil-disobedience tactics used by Landwehr's group. - ADAPT (411)
St. Louis Post Dispatch, May 17, 1998 [Headline] No Arrests As Protest Continues By Victor VoIland and William C. Lhotka Of the Post-Dispatch Staff PHOTO by Jerry Naunheim Jr./Post Dispatch: Three people in wheelchairs sit in a line facing away from the camera and toward a line of men standing and facing those in wheelchairs. Behind the men standing is an ornate stone building. On the back of one of the wheelchairs is a poster that reads "Lifts = Buses For All." caption: Members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit facing a line of plainclothes police officers Monday in front of the Omni International Hotel at Union Station. About 50 protesters, half of them in wheelchairs, continued a peaceful demonstration at Union Station on Monday against a public transportation association meeting inside. No one was arrested. Meanwhile, 11 of 41 demonstrators arrested on Sunday filed a $2.5 million suit late Monday against the city and three police officers. The suit accuses officials at the City Workhouse of taking blood from those arrested against their objections. It also charges police with violating the protesters' right of free speech by refusing to allow them to talk to the press while they were in jail. The demonstrators, who belong to a group called American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), are protesting the policies of the American Public Transit Association, which is holding a regional conference at the Omni Hotel at Union Station. The conference opened Saturday and continues through Wednesday. The ADAPT group wants the association of bus and train operators to adopt a national policy in support of equipping all public buses with wheelchair lifts. It has demonstrated against the association at its meetings for the last several years. Charges against 38 of the 41 arrested were dismissed Monday by Associate Circuit Judge Henry E. Autrey because authorities had failed to get warrants within the 20-hour period following arrest, as required by law. Three protesters were released on their own recognizance and ordered to appear Wednesday in the court of Judge Thomas C. Grady. They are charged in warrants with trespassing and disturbing the peace, both misdemeanors. George Kinsey, commissioner of adult correctional services, said it was standard procedure to take blood and perform tests on all prisoners entering the City Jail or Workhouse to screen for venereal diseases, tuberculosis and other communicable diseases. On Monday morning, remnants of the 150-member ADAPT group wheeled down Market Street from their rooms at the Holiday Inn Downtown to Union Station and the Omni and were met with a phalanx of uniformed and plainclothes police outside the main hotel entrance. Workers erected a makeshift barrier of concrete pylons and orange plastic fencing to separate the police line from the wheelchair protesters who drew up opposite. "I want Mr. Gilstrap to know he's got an angry parent out here and that I want the same human dignity afforded to my daughter that is given to an able-bodied person," one of the protesters, Cynthia Keelan of Phoenix, Ariz., barked through a battery-powered bullhorn. She was pushing her daughter, Jennifer, 7, who is crippled from congenital cerebral palsy. The girl is segregated and treated as a second-class citizen because she must use a wheelchair, her mother charged. Jack R. Gilstrap, executive vice president of the American Public Transit Association, declined to meet Monday with the protesters, who repeatedly chanted his name. Gilstrap told a reporter later that the association supported the idea of accessible public transportation for the elderly and handicapped. Implementing such access is difficult because President Ronald Reagan's administration has slashed the federal transit program by 47 percent since 1981, he said. He added that paratransit vans and buses — so-called dial-a-ride vehicles — are used much more frequently and are more cost efficient than buses equipped with wheelchair lifts. Gilstrap said that the Bi-State bus system in St. Louis offered both the dial-a-ride vans and lift-equipped buses. Tom Sturgess, a Bi-State spokesman, told the protesters that the system would have two-thirds of its buses equipped with lifts by next year. Lonnie Smith of Denver, one of the plaintiffs in the suit, said he was one of the first people to be subjected to a blood test at the city Workhouse after his arrest on Sunday. Showing a reporter the puncture on the inside of his left arm where the needle had been inserted, Smith said he had been told that he had no choice — that he would be held down unless he submitted to the blood test. end of article - ADAPT (684)
The Orlando Sentinel, Thursday October 10, 1991 the best newspaper in Florida PHOTO by Phelan M Ebenhack/Sentinel: Three people (left to right: Frank Lozano, Bunnie Andrews? and Sue Davis) are standing in front of a wall. On the wall a cross with "Nursing Homes Kill" written on it is partially visable, as is the ADAPT flag (an American Flag with the stars arranged to form the wheelchair/access logo). The three are lifting up an old fashioned folding E & J manual wheelchair to hang it on the cross. Frank, who is blind and wears a headband and T-shirt with ADAPT on them, has his hand raised. Caption reads: Frank Lozano and Bunnie Andrews, both of Colorado Springs, and Sue Davis of Louisville, Ky., chain a wheelchair to a cross marked ‘Nursing Homes Kill.‘ Title: Disabled saw their message on many faces by Sharon McBreen of the Sentinel Staff Protesters say they made their message clear this week after 250 activists in wheelchairs converged on Orlando. “It’s almost as though they never felt it before we've gotten in their faces,” Diane Coleman said. “You can feel the impact of that. You can see it in their eyes." The members of ADAPT — Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today — carried a message to the American Health Care Association, which attracted 3,500 delegates to a convention this week at the Peabody Hotel. ADAPT membels want an alternative to nursing home care. And they want to live at home. During the convention, which ends today, ADAPT members tried to block the Peabody’s doors with their bodies and wheelchairs. Police arrested 75 protesters on trespassing charges. The group wants a fourth of the $23 billion Medicaid spends on nursing homes and other institutions transferred to at-home care. “We need to reach the `rank`-and-file members of AHCA and the American public," Coleman of Tennessee said at a Wednesday news conference. At least one convention delegate said he wanted to hear more, she said. Nursing home association representatives have asked ADAPT members to meet with them. But what the activists really want is a national policy giving the disabled a choice, said Mark Johnson of Atlanta. Johnson said the nursing home industry doesn't want to allow the disabled to live at home, because it would lose out on the Medicaid money they receive. Wednesday night's news conference had to be moved from the front of the Orange County Convention and Civic Center to a room in the Clarion Plaza Hotel because police threatened to arrest them, one of the organizers said. Orange County sheriff's spokesman Doug Sarubbi denied that. He said an agreement reached with the judge who released the protesters from jail prohibited them from trespassing on Peabody Hotel property. Sarubbi said the Sheriff's Office was tabulating the time and money — estimated at least $100,000 —- it spent on the protest. - ADAPT (717)
Chicago Tribune, Thursday May 14, 1992 [This article continues in ADAPT 712 but the entire text has been included here for easier reading.] Photo by Eduardo Contreras: A man (Randy Horton) in a denim jacket kneels on the bottom step of an escalator with his arms spread from one handrail to the other. Someone stands on the escalator facing him. Behind him are a group of other protesters in wheelchairs filling the area. The group includes: Steve Verriden, San Antonio Funtes, Chris Hronis and others. Caption reads: Randy Horton (on knees) blocks John Meagher on a State of Illinois Center escalator. Title: Disabled protesters take hard line by Christine Hawes and Rob Kawath Rolling his wheelchair around the cavernous State of Illinois Center, shouting for his rights, Ken Heard recalled how he used to spend his days in a Syracuse, N.Y., nursing home where doctors controlled his life. They would tell him when he could get up in the morning, when he could go to sleep, what he could eat. They would feed him pills, but they wouldn’t tell him what they were for. It was as if he had no mind of his own. “l saw people tied down in their beds, said Heard, who has severe cerebral palsy. "And I saw people die in there." It took some time, a marriage that got him out of the nursing home and a raging desire for independence, but today Heard has regained the power to think for himself. He now earns his own income, rents and fumishes his own apartment and even takes vacations in Las Vegas. His joumey to self-sufficiency began when he heard about an activist group now called American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today. On Wednesday, about 200 ADAPT protesters in wheelchairs disrupted operations at the State of Illinois Center, 100 W. Randolph St., blocking exits and occasionally fighting with building patrons and workers as police stood by, arresting no one. Elaborate security measures the state had put in place Monday to keep the 16-floor, 3,000-employee building functioning broke down while state and Chicago police squabbled over who was responsible for arresting protesters deemed to have gone too far. But the scene of disabled men and women dragging themselves up escalators, surging into the building lobby and clutching the legs of people trying to walk past is just another picture in the well-publicized story of a group of vociferous activists savvy in street action. “One of the strongest points of their civil disobedience is making themselves look as pathetic as possible,” said one Chicago-area official at an agency that has been a target of ADAPT. The official, who asked that his name be withheld, said, “They are excellent media users, and they are very successful at putting spotlights on issues that most people probably wouldn’t normally pay attention to.” ADAPT has taken its dedication to a fever pitch, too fevered for some, and like many new protest `groups`—including the AIDS Coalition To Unleash Power (ACT -UP) for gay rights, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) for animal rights and Earth First for the ecology—is using dramatic, sensational tactics for their cause, to allow any nursing home residents the ability to live on their own. And though some may question their efforts, none can doubt they have impact. One woman who said she was grabbed, tripped and bitten during Wednesday’s melee confessed a few hours later, “I can’t help but feel guilty.” During Heard’s 10-year stay in the nursing home, he met some ADAPT members from Denver and listened to them tell of how they took sledgehammers to Denver's street curbs as a way of objecting to inaccessible sidewalks. Now Heard is a political organizer for ADAPT, in town with 350 other protesters. And though members are no longer taking sledgehammers to cement, they are steering wheelchairs into intersections, chaining themselves to buildings and crawling along dirty streets to get over curbs too high for wheelchairs. For the past two years, ADAPT has been staging demonstrations every six months in support of reallocating one-fourth of the country’s Medicaid funds that now go to nursing homes to in-home health care, and to make it easier for disabled people like Heard to escape their “prisons.” This week in Chicago, protests have played out at the quarters of everyone ADAPT perceives as the health-care power brokers: the federal Department of Health and Human Services, the American Medical Association and the offices of Gov. Jim Edgar. ADAPT claims that having personal, in-home attendants for the disabled costs $900 a month less in state funds than keeping them in nursing homes and other institutions. Illinois officials say the difference is only $600. But aside from financial concerns, ADAPT members say they’re fighting against inhumane restraint and abuse in nursing homes. Their strategy is to make the able-bodied feel as uncomfortable and limited as they themselves do—and to grab as much media time as possible. Television cameras were there Wednesday when bands of wheelchair users mobbed workers trying to use an escalator in the State of Illinois Center. And they were there Tuesday when protesters crawled out of their wheelchairs, across Grand Avenue and over foot-high curbs outside of the American Medical Association’s national headquarters. “This makes us visible," said Jean Stewart, a 42-year-old novelist from New York, who has used a wheelchair since she lost her hip muscle because of a tumor about 17 years ago. “And it enables us to get our message across. It’s not a publicity stunt, it’s education.” The group’s history is rife with attention-grabbing acts of protest after talks with officials were unsuccessful and full of what they feel is noteworthy success. The end result of the Denver protests, said Wade Blank, a founding member of the group, was one of the most accessible cities for disabled people in this country. Three years ago, a handful of ADAPT members were arrested for blocking a Chicago Transit Authority bus with their motorized wheelchairs. But two results of those efforts, they feel, were CTA purchase of buses with wheelchair lifts and even the passage of the federal Americans with Disabilities Act. ADAPT members say they are disrupting business as usual because they are shut out of offices where politicians and association presidents could be sitting down to discuss the issue. And they are trapping members of the public to demonstrate how they feel trapped and restrained. “For so long the issues surrounding disability have remained invisible,” said Stephanie Thomas, who lost her ability to walk when she was run over by a tractor 17 years ago. “So we have to do some extraordinary things to make people pay attention.” Wednesday’s protest, which came after U.S. District Judge Milton Shadur refused to order a lessening of security measures at the state’s Chicago headquarters, left police and Department of Central Management Services security officers snapping only at each other, even after the protest turned ugly. “I have to get to an appointment!" yelled one middle-age man as he wrestled on the ground with two protesters who had grabbed his legs and, in the process, had been pulled out of their wheelchairs. “This is what it feels like to be trapped in a nursing home!” yelled one protester. The man finally struggled free and hustled out of the building while Chicago and Central Management Services police watched from only a few feet away. “We’re sorely disappointed with the Chicago Police Department,” said Central Management Services Director Stephen Schnorf. “Certainly they provided better protection to the other buildings where there were protests this week.” But Chicago Police Cmdr. Michael Malone said the state was in control and his officers were just there to back them up. He said the state was misrepresenting the agreement between the two departments. And all that consternation was caused by a group that claims to be loosely organized and barely funded ADAPT, which has about 5,000 members nationwide, has very little formal correspondence, aside from a newspaper called Incitement and a rare memo, Blank said members keep in touch through word of mouth more than anything, and most of them support their travels through small fundraisers. But though the group says most of its day-to-day procedures are hardly sophisticated, ADAPT leaders are extremely skilled in using the media, say some who have watched the group’s protests first-hand. Sonya Snyder, public relations director at a Florida hotel where ADAPT demonstrated against the American Health Care Association last October, said the protesters only became rambunctious when television cameras appeared. “For most of the time, the police and the protesters would share sandwiches,” Snyder said. “But when the media came, down went the sandwiches and up went the protest.” And Janice Wolfe, a spokeswoman for the health care association, said the group’s efforts are “frustrating and misdirected. Their efforts could be better spent on individuals who are in power to do something.” ADAPT members view their protests as grand displays of strength, not pitiful appeals. They speak of their demonstration plans as though they are plotting battle strategy, using words like “identified enemy,” “privileged information” and "top secret." They pattern their protests after the civil rights demonstrations of the 1960s and compare themselves to the black leaders of that era “This is just like Martin Luther King,” ADAPT member Bernard Baker from Atlanta “We’re fired up, and we can’t take it anymore." - ADAPT (697)
The Orlando Sentinel, Saturday, September 7, 1991 Title: Disabled plan to demonstrate at convention The Orange Sheriffs Office is preparing for a showdown when nursing home operators and activists in wheelchairs show up next month. By Christopher Quinn of the Sentinel Staff The stage has been set for a wild showdown next month in Orlando among nursing home operators, deputy sheriffs and hundreds of wheelchair-bound protesters, some on respirators. The activists, whose tactics include chaining themselves to buildings to halt conventions, want fewer people kept in nursing homes and more money devoted to caring for the disabled at home. They are members of Denver-based American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, or ADAPT. They plan to demonstrate at next month’s convention of the American Health Care Association at the Orange County‘ Convention and Civic Center. The association represents nursing home operators. If ADAPT members break the law during their protests — as they have in cities across the country — the Orange County Sheriff's Office plans to arrest them, possibly filling the county jail with people who require medical help. “Their aim is to be arrested," said Sgt. Jon Swanson, head of the Sheriffs Office intelligence unit. “Their whole tactic is confrontation.” ‘lt’s going to cost a lot of taxpayer money’ The Sheriff's Office will have to pay overtime to keep crowd and riot control squads on hand 24 hours a day during the four-day convention that begins Oct 6. “It's going to cost a lot of money, a lot of taxpayer money,“ Swanson said. An ADAPT newsletter about the planned protest says "Mickey Mouse and AHCA will never be the same after ADAPT travels to the tourist capital of the US." The newsletter boasts of how the group disrupted a speech by Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan earlier this year. Barbara Guthrie, an ADAPT organizer, said in an interview Friday that members are non-violent people willing to go to jail for their beliefs. “We'll push for arrest" she said. "There's thousands of people in nursing homes that don't need to be there.” Guthrie said ADAPT’s goal is for Medicaid to redirect 25 percent of its $23 billion nursing home budget to home care for the disabled. Guthrie-said she is confined to a wheelchair but is able to live at home because she gets a little help day getting dressed. Linda Keegan, a vice president for the nursing home association, said ADAPT does not seem interested in compromise. “What they're looking for is attention," Keegan said, adding that her group has met with ADAPT leaders twice this year to map out an agreement but that ADAPT continued to protest at meetings. “I really don’t believe what they’re looking for is to work anything out!" Keegan said the association's immediate concern is safety at the convention. She said she would not be surprised if ADAPT tried to block all the entrances at the mammoth building. They're pretty good," she said. Most of the 3,500 people attending the convention will stay at the Peabody Hotel across from the convention center on south International Drive. Swanson said ADAPT has reserved 80 rooms at the Clarion Plaza Hotel at the Convention Center just up the street. The group expects more than 300 members. In cities across the country ADAPT has blocked meetings, disrupted meetings and shut down offices as it sought to reach its goals. Last May in Washington, activists— more than 100 in wheelchairs — blocked entrances to the headquarters of the Health and Human Services Department to protest nursing homes. Some ADAPT members discarded their wheelchairs and crutches and tried to get past a police line securing the building. Some crawled under parked police cars and tried to squeeze past the legs of police officers in front of the entrances. Sheriff's crowd control officers will be trained in the next few weeks on how to arrest protesting quadriplegics and other disabled people without hurting them, Swanson said. Deputies might even find themselves under attack. Swanson said that in other cities, ADAPT members have formed wheelchair lines and rushed police barricades. Unless the ADAPT members were charged with felonies, which is unlikely, they would be processed through the county jail and released within a few hours. The jail, the state's most crowded, is under court order to release people accused of most non-violent crimes. Ed Hoyle, an assistant jail director, said if the protesters were arrested a second time, they probably would be held for a court appearance. The jail will have emergency medical workers on hand. For the protesters, the Orlando visit will not be all business. The ADAPT flier says, "There will be time at the end of the actions to play at Disney World and Epcot Center." - ADAPT (690)
The Orlando Sentinel Local & state B TUESDAY, October 8, 1991 [This clipping contains two articles. Artilce 1, titled Q & A is a boxed insert. It is continued on a page that are not currently available. Article 2 continues in ADAPT 686 but the entire text of the article is included here for easier reading.] Main Title: Disabled protesters refuse to attend talks Article 1 - Title: Q&A no author given; Lauren Ritchie is interviewer. Mike Auberger discusses why the group of disabled people that he helped organize is protesting the meeting of the American Health Care Association. Auberger was interviewed Monday from his cell at the Orange County Jail by Lauren Ritchie. Question: Why is ADAPT targeting nursing home operators? Answer: The nursing home industry is a $50 billion a year organization. lf you happen to be 30 years old and disabled and live, say, in Ocala —— and there are no personal assistance programs — than you're forced into a nursing home simply because you have physical needs you can't take care of yourself. Q: Why, from your perspective, is that bad? A: If you've ever talked to anybody who's been in a nursing home, the only difference between there and jail is the color of the uniforms. The jail uses guns to keep you there; the nursing home uses pills. You have no choice about when you get up, what you wear, what you eat or don't eat and when you go to bed. When we talk about nursing homes, we talk in terms of incarceration. You never escape from a nursing home. lf you are older and disabled, you could be forced to sell your home, forced to give up everything. The issue is quality of life. Most people can be taken care of in their own homes. Q: Why does ADAPT focus on nursing homes rather than the federal goverment? A: Under the Medicaid program, each state is required to participate in nursing home funding [for the disabled]. Every time a state does a budget it has to identify a certain amount of dollars for nursing homes. If you ... please see Q & A, B-4 Article 2 Photo by Red Huber/Sentinel: The picture is divided almost down the middle by a line of police barricades. On the left side a row of uniformed police officers stand leaning forward, arms stiff, holding the barricades in place. On the right a line of ADAPT protesters (San Anontio Fuentes closest to the camera) face off with the police. Behind them several standing people look on. Caption: A steel barricade and a line of Orange County deputy sheriffs prevent protesters from reaching the doors at the convention center. Title: Deputies expect the protests will grow worse when famous speakers address the convention. By Mary Brooks, of the Sentinel Staff Disabled activists demonstrating at a convention of nursing home operators rejected an offer to meet with industry leaders Monday, calling it a ploy to end their protest. But a spokeswoman for the American Health Care Association, which is playing host to 3,500 people at its annual conference in Orlando, said members of ADAPT -- Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs - seemed more interested in drawing television cameras than in drawing up an agreement at a discussion table. Activists say they plan to continue trying to block entrances to the Orange County Convention and Civic Center until the conference ends Thursday. Deputies expect the worst will come during the visits of the convention's noted speakers. This morning, Red Cross president Elizabeth Dole will address the convention. Television weatherman Willard Scott is scheduled to speak Wednesday. In their second day of demonstrations Monday; about 120 ADAPT members clustered near the three main entrances to the convention center on International Drive. They were barred from approaching the center doors by portable steel fences and 130 Orange County deputy sheriffs. "In the past they've blocked entrances with chains. We want to prevent that," said sheriff's spokesman Cpl. Doug Sarubbi. “They have a right to be here, but the conference attendees have a right to be here. too." Two protesters were arrested late Monday after they refused to stop using a loudspeaker. The protesters, many of them in wheelchairs and a few with guide dogs, sang, chanted and shouted at convention-goers. Tension mounted for several minutes when some of the disabled rammed their wheelchairs into the barricades. There were no injuries. Organizers said the 74 protesters arrested in clashes with deputies on Sunday at the Peabody Hotel on International Drive would not post bond and would remain in the Orange County Jail. Pat Hasley, a hotel security guard who suffered a heart attack during Sunday’s demonstration, was in stable condition Monday at Sand Lake Hospital. Denver-based ADAPT wants Medicaid to funnel 25 percent of the $23 billion nursing home budget to home care for the disabled. The group also wants the chance to address convention participants. “Right now, if you're disabled and need medical services and can’t afford it, they’re going to lock you up" in a nursing home, said Stephanie Thomas, an ADAPT organizer. Demonstrators claimed that 1.6 million disabled people in nursing homes really shouldn’t be there. “We don’t think the extreme needs of a very small percentage should dictate where all the money goes,” said Molly Blank, an organizer from Denver. During about four hours of protest Monday, some convention-goers stood outside the center to watch. Ralph Frasca of Cedar Falls, Iowa, and Mary Scheider of Joliet, Ill., were among a few who ventured over to talk to the demonstrators. “They have a legitimate grievance,” Scheider said. “The main issue is at-home care, diverting funding from institutional care to home care. The funding system now is skewed toward institutional care." Frasca, a journalism professor at the University of Northern lowa, said many convention participants were tumed off by ADAPT’s approach. “The discussion thus far has not centered around issues but rather the sensationalism of the event. I think a non confrontational, peaceful dialogue should be taking place." Linda Keegan, a spokeswoman for the American Health Care Association, said the demonstration did not disturb the convention activities. She said ADAPT had not contacted the association about a meeting or about getting time on the convention agenda before Sunday. She said the health care association’s executive board has met with the group twice this year, each meeting ending in chaos. “We made a commitment to meet. They made a commitment to protest.” The association proposed on Monday to meet with ADAPT on Thursday under the condition that the activists stop protesting. “We don't think that is a good faith offer," said Thomas. The Sheriffs Office and the jail had made extensive preparations for handling the disabled protesters, including special training and added staff. Sarubbi said the Sheriff's Office would not know what the cost would be until the demonstrations are over. Ed Royal, an Orange County Jail administrator, said volunteers from jail ministries were helping to defray some of the costs of handling the disabled inmates. The jail also had to get foam mattresses, diapers, chargers for wheelchair batteries, and other special equipment. The problems of caring for the protesters are many, Royal said. Staff and volunteers had to document and administer medication, and to help inmates relieve, bathe and feed themselves. Jail officials were able to make trades for some supplies with hospitals, but other materials had to be bought. Monday morning, 37 jailed activists began refusing food and liquids and another 10 would not eat but were drinking. Medical staff were monitoring the hunger strikers and were prepared to take them to hospitals if needed, said Royal. On its lawyers’ advice, the corrections department has been videotaping the disabled inmates since their arrival. "They have a history of saying they were mistreated while in custody, so we're taking no chances," said Royal.