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Leathaineach abhaile / Albums / Tag George Roberts 38
- ADAPT (468)
PHOTO by Tom Olin: A uniformed policeman and another man in a suit hold one arm each of a giant set of bolt cutters as they try and cut the kryptonite lock on George Roberts' motorized wheelchair and Bob Kafka's manual chair. You can only see Bob's feet and leg rests, but George has his eyes shut and is making a face of disgust. - ADAPT (341)
View from rear of Bob Kafka leaning on the back of George Roberts chair on a plaza on the steps of the San Francisco City Hall. City officials stand at the far side of the plaza. A huge crowd of disabled people gathered in front of the steps listen to the speakers; most of the crowd are in wheelchairs. - ADAPT (380)
PHOTO by Tom Olin: Looking up at two men with disabilities are sitting on a wide flight of stairs as they climb down. One man (Bob Kafka), with bushy hair and beard is in suspenders, jeans and a thick white shirt. He is holding his right hand above his head, holding a ticket; his mouth is open, yelling. The other man (George Roberts) is wearing a jacket and dark pants and is on his side holding onto a metal railing in the middle of the stairs. In the gloom above them you can see some official looking people with reflective stripes on their jackets, someone standing behind them, possibly filming, and a row of people standing in the far background. - ADAPT (372)
A large crowd of protesters fill most of the street in front of a large city building. Most are in wheelchairs but there are walking people there too, as well as camera people and other media types. In a corner of the foreground a group of police officers in dark uniforms and caps, cluster in formation facing the protesters. The protesters are ignoring them. George Cooper (in a manual chair and white hat) talks with two other wheelchair users. Behind them you can see left shoulder of George Roberts (in green T-shirt) being pushed by someone. A woman in a wheelchair with a child is behind him, and behind her and a man in a yellow t-shirt is Jim Parker with a white headband, back to the camera. To his left is Don Clubb in a white T-shirt. Behind a man in a purple t-shirt, over his head you can see Kathy Thomas with short grey hair, and beside her is Loretta Dufriend in a green shirt. - ADAPT (179)
Photo: A uniformed policeman holds the back push handles of a woman in a motorized wheelchair. They are behind a the back of a bus. At one side a man in a wheelchair (George Roberts) holding a sign looks on. Caption reads: POLICE WHEEL demonstrators off the street in an attempt to free buses that were taking delegates to the Washington, D.C., Convention Center for the national convention of the American Public Transit Association. See story and picture on page 1. - ADAPT (816)
This Week in Healthcare Photo: Protesters in wheelchairs sit in a group chanting. Their signs read: "Is there a nursing home in your future?" and "Our Homes not Nursing Homes." Front row left to right is George Roberts with Larry Biondi and another person behind him, and Stephanie Thomas and Karen Tamley with signs. Caption reads: Wheelchair-bound members of ADAPT, a patient-advocacy group, disrupt AHCA’s meeting. Title: Disabled protest AHCA approach in lobbying for reform by John Burns [This article contines in ADAPT 815 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] Nursing home providers weren’t the only ones recommending comprehensive long-term-care reform last week during the American Health Care Associations convention in Nashville, Tenn. More than 250 people, many of them disabled and wheelchair bound, demonstrated outside—and inside—the convention's Opryland Hotel headquarters to protest the AHCA’s lobbying of the Clinton administration for increased federal funding for nursing home care. The incident was the latest in a series of clashes between healthcare provider and consumer groups reacting to President Clinton's healthcare reform plan. Last month, the American Association of Retired Persons and Families USA, a consumer advocacy group, launched separate advertising campaigns attacking the lobbying efforts of several healthcare special-interest groups (See related story, p. 60). Early in the week, Paul Willging, AHCA’s executive vice president, outlined the associations agenda for reform to an audience of more than 2,000 nursing home administrators. More than 4,000 people attended last week's convention, the largest turnout in eight years. The group represents about 10,000 for-profit facilities. Mr. Willging commended the Clinton administration for the inclusion of steps in its reform plan to improve long-term-care financing. The plan calls for the creation of a long-term-care insurance market to help residents pay nursing home costs. “We've argued for years that the private sector offers an answer to escalating Medicaid spending... and to the forced impoverishment of millions of Americans due to their long-term-care needs,” Mr. Willging said. The AHCA’s platform for reform calls for a private-public partnership for long-term-care financing. Under their vision of coverage, private insurance would pay a large portion of nursing home costs, while the federal government would pay for the poor. However, eliminating the "imprisonment” - not impoverishment—of nursing home residents was the battle cry of hundreds of protesters from a group called Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today. The organization is a Denver-based patient advocacy group representing people with disabilities who would rather live at home than in nursing homes. Throughout the week, ADAPT members protested outside the Opryland Hotel, demanding that the group be allowed into the convention to debate its agenda. The group’s primary goal is to shift at least 25% of Medicaid spending now designated for nursing homes so the money could be used to develop home- and community-based long-term-care programs. The AHCA, which denied access to ADAPT members, did offer to meet with them in a closed-door session, said Claudia Askew, an AHCA spokeswoman. However, after talks broke down on Sept. 28, ADAPT protesters stormed the hotel, disrupting the convention and hotel traffic for hours. Nearly 100 ADAPT members were arrested. “We think we share a common goal of supporting additional funding for home-care services,” Ms. Askew said. “But, after today, I don’t know if we can come to any agreement.” This isn't the first time the association and ADAPT have clashed. Last year, ADAPT staged a similar protest during the AHCA’s convention in San Francisco, resulting in numerous protester arrests, she said. - ADAPT (1795)
Mainstream Magazine, April 1993 issue [This article continues in ADAPT 1974, but is included here in its entirety for easier reading.] Photo: Wade Blank, in sneakers, jeans and an ADAPT T-shirt over a long sleeved shirt, walks with other ADAPTers in a march down a city street. Beside him is George Roberts, behind George is Diane Coleman and behind her is Anita Cameron. Behind Wade's left side is Chris Hronis, and behind him Bill Henning carries a banner. Caption for picture reads: Wade Blank takes to the streets of San Francisco with ADAPT in October 1992 Title: Wade Blank, 1940 to 1993 Co founder of Adapt [sic] Pursued A Vision Of Justice For People With Disabilities By Laura Hershey When a college friend dared Wade Blank to march with Martin Luther King. Jr. in Selma, Alabama. Wade didn't know what to expect. However, the experience imbued him with a vision of civil rights which he would never forget. Later. working in the youth wing of a nursing home, he understood clearly that the same issues, freedom. equality, and justice, were at stake for people with severe disabilities. Throughout his life, Wade Blank strove to obtain independent living opportunities and equal access for people who had lone been denied these basic civil rights. Wade died at age 52 on Feb. l5. I993. in a swimming accident in Todos Santos, Mexico, where he was vacationing with his family. He was trying to save his 8 year old son. Lincoln. An undertow made the rescue impossible; both Wade and Lincoln drowned. Wade is survived by his wife, Mollie; his daughter. Caitlin, 6; and his adopted daughter, Heather, 22, who has a disability. All members of the Blank family were actively involved in the disability rights movements that Wade helped launch. On Feb. 2l. a memorial service drew 1,100 people to Denver's Radisson Hotel. the site of the first national protest by American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit, or ADAPT. the grass roots, direct action disability rights movement Wade co-founded. Wade and Lincoln were remembered as spirited, loving people committed to social change. A neighbor remembered Wade helping her fix a broken lock late one night; she recalled Lincoln leading other children in a rousing chant during a make-believe demonstration on his front porch. Wade's colleague Shel Trapp quipped. “lf Heaven is inaccessible. God is in big trouble." Wade believed in the leadership potential of even the most severely disabled activists. He pushed his followers to take charge of the movement, even when it would have been easier to dominate it himself. His ability to alternate between a directive role and a supportive role from manager to attendant. from mentor to messenger kept Wade close to his people. lt also had a tactical value: At a 1991 demonstration in Colorado. police were vainly searching for someone to hold responsible for several dozen unstoppable wheelchair wielding protesters. An officer asked Wade. “Are you in charge here?" "No." Wade answered. “I just help people go to the bathroom." Drawing on his background as a pastor of a diverse and active parish, Wade taught the value of community. He brought people together across disabilities, classes, races, ideologies and other differences. ln ADAPT. Wade created a true community. welcoming anyone committed to the movement's vision of justice. During national actions, people from across the country exchange experiences and expertise. offer each other encouragement and strength, meet friends and even start romances. Just getting to the sites of national protests requires enormous energy expenditures and a myriad of logistical details for people with disabilities, many of whom use wheelchairs. On long. grueling caravan drives across country. Wade met those needs with humor and gentleness. He drove tirelessly, navigated, did attendant care, pumped gas, made fast food runs, hauled suitcases and battery chargers, repaired wheelchairs, even brought coffee to everyone’s rooms in the mornings. When we grew exhausted and short-tempered. he buoyed us with affectionate teasing and terrible, recycled puns. He kept the troops moving, both on the road and during protests. with encouragement, bad jokes. and calm confidence. Protests will be tougher without Wade's bold creativity, irrepressible sense of humor, and reassuring presence. But the movement won’t die with Wade. He knew that. “King‘s organization’s mistake was that they hung it all around his neck,” he told an interviewer last November. “What happened to the movement? It lost its definition. King gave it its definition. If I would get knocked off tomorrow or die of a heart attack, it wouldn’t slow us down a bit. We know what we’re about, and the movement would go on with the same intensity.” In 1971, Rev. Wade Blank arrived in Denver after 10 years of preaching and organizing in the Midwest. He had graduate degrees in divinity and was an ordained Presbyterian minister. But his radical activities had gotten him in trouble with the church authorities and he had been fired from his parish. His experiences had included hosting meetings of the Kent State chapter of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS); helping Vietnam War draftees flee to Canada; and organizing African American youths to demand community water and sewage systems in conservative Twinsburg Heights, OH. Wade was burned out and not sure what he wanted to do next. He ended up at Denver’s Heritage House nursing home, where he tried to make institutional life bearable for young disabled people. He quickly realized that such confinement could never be acceptable. He was fired from his job, but stayed in touch with several of the young residents. Eventually he helped 11 of them move into their own apartments. At first, Wade himself provided all his clients’ attendant care, until finally the State of Colorado agreed to fund home health care services for people living independently. This was the beginning of the Atlantis Community (named for a forgotten continent), today a thriving independent living center in Denver. Even in their newly won freedom, the Atlantis founders discovered barriers to independence all around them. Public buses were inaccessible, so the community members became activists. One July 5, 1978, with Wade’s support and guidance, 19 disabled people blocked buses overnight in the busy intersection at Colfax and Broadway to demonstrate their demand for lifts on buses. Protests continued until, in June 1983, Denver committed itself to a fully accessible bus system. Last summer, the city laid a plaque at the Colfax-Broadway intersection, engraved with the 19 activists’ names. Characteristically downplaying his own key role in the demonstration, Wade asked that his name not appear on the plaque. Wade once described his role this way: “That’s what my job is, to assist my people in gaining the power to make change." Throughout his years of service to “my people,” Wade worked to build strength and leadership among disability activists. Emboldened by success, the Denver activists carried their demands for bus access to the entire nation. Wade‘s vigorous encouragement and organizing skills had helped to transform a group of powerless nursing home "patients" into a band of effective revolutionaries. Now that same savvy spirit found a warm reception among disabled people who were tired of segregation and exclusion. A new movement was born, with the fitting acronym ADAPT, or American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation. The first national ADAPT protest took place at the Radisson in October, 1983. The nation's transit officials were meeting at the hotel when disabled protesters blocked every entrance. Similar demonstrations throughout the country, involving the blocking of hotels, office buildings, and buses, focused public attention on the fact that access to transportation was a basic civil right denied to people with disabilities. Subsequent protests refined ADAPT ’s brand of protest. With his 1960s civil rights experience, Wade taught his followers how to stage protests that were non violent but direct and confrontational. In the hands of people with severe disabilities, these tactics were astonishingly effective. ADAPT activists baffled police officers, and filled jail cells, in dozens of cities. The public, and ultimately the powers that be, had to respond. The idea of people with severe disabilities, and their allies (including Wade), risking arrest again and again some as many as 20 or 30 times proved not only impressive, but persuasive. After nearly a decade of such protests, ADAPT achieved its goals for the nation’s transit systems. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) included mandates for bus and rail services. All new bus purchases must now be lift equipped, just as Wade and his cohorts had demanded. But before it passed, the ADA became stalled in the U.S. Senate and was in danger of being defeated or weakened by amendments. Wade organized a “Wheels of Justice” campaign that included three days of marching, demonstrating, and civil disobedience. Some 150 people were arrested in the Capitol rotunda. Within a few weeks, the ADA passed the full Senate, and was signed into law by President Bush on July 26, 1990. But Wade and ADAPT spent little time celebrating. They knew there was still much to be done. With over a million people still languishing in nursing homes, ADAPT immediately launched its new campaign, demanding the shifting of federal Medicare/Medicaid funds from nursing homes to in home attendant services that would allow people disabled by birth, accident, illness, or age to live independently. The meaning of the acronym, ADAPT, did just that it adapted. The letters now stand for American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today. The old battle cry, “We Will Ride!,“ was replaced with a new one: “Free Our People NOW!” In a recent interview, Wade said, “My whole commitment in life is to eradicate those nursing homes, to destroy them, bring them down. We will.” He didn’t live to see that goal realized, but he shared that vision with hundreds of others. In the process he helped create a movement that will continue the fight to “Free Our People.” Laura Hershey, freelance writer and poet, is an ADAPT activist. Inserted in box: A memorial will be held May 9, I993 at the Lincoln Memorial as part of an ADAPT action in Washington DC. Contributions may be sent to The Family of Wade Blank Memorial Fund at The First National Bank of Denver, 300 S. Federal Blvd., Denver, CO 80206. A trust fund has also been established in the name of Wade Blank. Contributions can be sent to Atlantis/ADAPT c/o Evan Kemp, 2500 Q St. N.W I21, Washington, DC 20007. - ADAPT (1769)
Front cover of AWARE News spring 1993, There is a big headline: In memory of Wade Blank, ADAPT Leader, disability rights activist. Below is a photo by Tom Olin of a group of people in wheelchairs sitting in a group talking with Wade Blank and Rev. Willie Smith, and Shel Trapp. Behind them is some fancy stone wall. George Roberts is at the back of the group, closest to the camera.