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Tuis / Albums / Sleutelwoord arrest 30
Skep datum / 2013 / Julie / 11
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Protest for disabled PHOTO (from an unknown newspaper) By Melanie Stengel, UPI: A heavy set older woman (Edith Harris) in a scooter is surrounded by three uniformed police officers. Behind them on one side, a bus; behind on the other side, a large city building. Edith, who has no legs is sitting at an angle in the scooter, looking at her left hand. Two of the officers have her by her wrists, and a third, is doing something behind her back. The caption reads: BUS-TED: Edith Harris, of Hartford, Conn., is arrested for blocking a bus in front of the City-County Building in Detroit Monday. Harris, with ADAPT — American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation — was among about 18 arrested Monday, the second day of demonstrations to gain the attention of the American Public Transit Association. ADAPT is protesting the lack of wheelchair accessibility on the nation's buses and trains. The association is meeting in Detroit.
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Photo: A man in an old style motorized wheelchair (Mike Auberger) with long hair sits a half a body length above several people standing on the ground. His mouth is open in a yell and his arms are flung wide. Caption reads: 20 Disabled Protesters arrested in Washington: A wheelchair-bound protester being lifted abroad van after being arrested yesterday in Washington. About 100 disabled demonstrators turned out at the annual convention of the American Public Transit Association, demanding improved access to buses, trains, and subways. About 20 people were arrested after blocking two entrances to the convention center.
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PHOTO by Tom Olin?: A white man with a curly gray afro and beard in a manual wheelchair, Bob Kafka, grimaces in pain as two police officers standing over him handcuff his arms behind his back and push him forward toward his legs.
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This is a continuation of the article in ADAPT 375 and the entire text of the story is included there for easier reading. Photo by Rick Gerharter: A heavyset double amputee in a manual wheelchair (Jerry Eubanks) sits looking sideways in the middle of a street. Behind him a line of five uniformed police officers stand in a row looking straight ahead, over his head. Caption reads: One of the many demonstrators arrested by local law enforcement officials at this week's APTA convention.
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The Gazette, Montreal, Monday, October 3, 1988 Final [edition] 50 cents Title: Police arrest 28 wheelchair activists after protest in hotel lobby By Michael Doyle and Catherine Buckie of the Gazette Twenty-eight wheelchair protesters were arrested and charged with mischief last night after 50 of them staged a noisy demonstration in the lobby of the Sheraton Center on Dorchester Blvd. The protesters were demonstrating against the lack of mass transit facilities for the handicapped. They sang We Shall Overcome and chanted “Access is a Civil Right!” as they blocked off elevators and escalators at the downtown hotel. Police took the wheelchair activists to the Bonsecours St. station. They were to be arraigned before a judge at 1 a.m. today. “We don’t want to hold them for nothing,” said Const. Bernard Perrier. “We want to put them before a judge as soon as possible. It will be up to the judge to decide what happens to them after that.” The demonstrators were mostly members of a U.S. group, American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT). They are here to badger transit-authority representatives from across the continent – including officials of the Montreal Urban Community Transit Corp. – who are attending the convention of the American Public Transit Association. “We’re just trying to make their convention as inaccessible to them as public transit is for us,” group organizer Rev. Wade Blank of Denver, Colo., said earlier that day. A squad of about 80 police officers was called in to clear the hotel lobby. One protester, Bob Kafka, a 42-year-old Vietnam veteran from Austin, Texas whose neck was broken in a car accident, had chained himself to a railing in the lobby. Police cut the chain with shears. The activists decided to demonstrate at the Sheraton because a large number of delegates to the transit convention are staying there, Kafka said. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience, but we’ve been inconvenienced all our lives,” he said. Hotel general manager Alfred Heim, who used a bullhorn to read a portion of the Eviction Act to the protesters before the police moved in, said he expected some trouble because the protesters attend each transit convention. The demonstration closed the westbound lanes on Dorchester Blvd. outside the hotel for about two hours. It was the second time yesterday that the demonstrators had disrupted traffic on Dorchester Blvd. Earlier, more than 75 of the wheelchair activists blocked traffic outside the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, site of the convention. Police there put up barricades to contain the activists, who were eventually allowed to line up single-file on the north side of the street, away from the hotel entrance. Picture, Page A-3 The end
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St. Louis Post Dispatch, 5/13/88 Activists Derail Transit Group’s Welcoming Plans By Mark Schlinkmann, Regional Political Correspondent Officials have moved the site of a convention's welcoming ceremony Sunday night away from the Gateway Arch visitors' center because of fears of a protest by disabled-rights activists. Organizers of a transit officials' convention have moved the reception site to the Omni Hotel, the site of the convention. Better security can be provided at the hotel, a spokesman for the Bi-State Development Agency, Thomas Sturgess, said Thursday. Because most other activities connected with the five-day convention will be at the hotel, Sturgess said, "The participants already will be there." More than 600 people from across the country are expected to attend the convention, a regional conference of the American Public Transit Association. As many as 150 others affiliated with Americans Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation — known as ADAPT — are expected to be here to protest the organization's stand on wheelchair lifts for buses. Police say the protest group, including many in wheelchairs themselves, has a reputation for seeking arrest to dramatize their cause. Tactics in other cities have included blocking roadways and chaining themselves to buses, Bi-State officials have said. ADAPT wants the Transit Association to endorse 100 percent accessibility to buses and other public transportation for the disabled through the installation of wheelchair lifts by all its member systems. Disabled people should have the right to as much access to taxpayer-financed transportation as able-bodied people enjoy, ADAPT officials argue. "Our demand is that the association change its policy," said the Rev. Wade Blank of Denver, an ADAPT founder. The association "will not have their parties anywhere in the United States without people in wheelchairs making them inaccessible." Transit association officials respond by saying that although they support access for the disabled, wheelchair lifts are not the only way to provide it. Jack R. Gilstrap, executive vice-president of the Transit Association, said Thursday that about a third of the nation's transit systems use lifts on buses; a third have begun using vans to provide door-to-door service for disabled persons; and a third use a combination. The vans have a higher rate of use than wheelchair lifts on standard buses and so are less costly, he said. "We believe the local community ought to be deciding how this will be provided," Gilstrap said. "There really are some serious business and tax-payer considerations." ADAPT complains that "paratransit vans, which usually must be reserved in advance, segregate the disabled from the general public. "It's very similar to apartheid," Blank said. In St Louis, the Bi-State transit system is using a combination — developed in conjunction with a local committee of disabled persons. Almost 120 new standard buses equipped with wheelchair lifts are being purchased between now and early 1989. In addition, the system's "Call-A-Ride" van service for disabled people — now limited to parts of St. Louis County — will be expanded to cover all of St. Louis and St. Louis County in November. At that time, Bi-State also will begin issuing scrip that can be used by disabled persons to take taxis in certain circumstances. ADAPT officials have said the organization is satisfied with Bi-State's plans. But they have complained that Bi-State is allowing two of its buses to be used as paddy-wagons on call in the case of any arrests at the demonstrations.
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[This artlice continues in ADAPT 412, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO 1: A group of protesters in wheelchairs, in a rough line, head down the street toward the camera. In front and to one side a policeman on a motorcycle/trike. Caption: ADAPT demonstrators, with police escort, on their way from the Arch to Union Station, via Market Street PHOTO 2: Four protesters in wheelchairs block a flight of stairs in a lobby type area as people walk by. From left to right they are Ryan Duncan, Heather Blank, unknown protester, and Wayne Spahn. Caption: Demonstrators blocked access to stairways in Union Station, trying to force a confrontation with APTA officials. [No Title or author or publication given for this article on the clipping. It does not appear be the start of the article.] "They bill it as door to door service, but it does crazy things like, if you want to go from west county to the city, it will pick you up but leave you at the city-county line." Bi-State plans to expand the service in December by adding 11 lift-equipped vans and extending the service into the city. The system will also extend its hours of operation, to 6 a.m. to 7 p m. Its use in the city limits will be limited to disabled passengers, Plesko says, and, with the extended hours, disabled workers will be able to use the service to get to their jobs. While some other cities are making similar (or greater) progress — San Francisco, for one, has lifts on every one of its buses — things are still moving too slowly for the members of ADAPT. And they blame the slow pace on APTA. (ADAPT members who came to St. Louis this week stressed that they were here because of their quarrel with APTA and were not here to demonstrate against Bi-State. They said they approved of the plans Bi-State had made for the achievement of 100 percent accessibility, but nonetheless questioned the slow pace at which that was occurring.) The fight between ADAPT and APTA has its roots in the 1970s. During the Carter administration, the Department of Transportation (DOT) issued rules requiring transit systems to have at least half of their buses equipped with wheelchair lifts. Those regulatioms came out of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, a landmark federal law that many in the disabled community point to as being equivalent to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. But APTA filed suit against DOT for its regulations and a federal court upheld APTA's argument for "local option," that is, allowing individual transit authorities to decide how they would comply with the spirit of the regulation requiring adequate accessible transportation for the disabled. Says APTA's Engelken, "These decisions are best made locally, because the local transit systems understand the needs of their passengers. For example, it would not be feasible to have a transit system for the disabled based on 100 percent lift-equipped buses in Fargo, North Dakota, because in the winter it would be almost impossible for someone in a wheel chair to get to a bus stop and wait for a bus. Able-bodied people have enough trouble (there)." Says Bob Kafka, another ADAPT leader, "(That) is one of the arguments people use for not providing transportation. They say, 'People in a motorized wheelchair can't get there, so why provide (accessible buses)?' But do you know what a person in a motorized wheelchair has to do to get to the bus stop? He has to hit a joystick. Little old ladies cleaning people's homes for years, with fallen arches, and having to carry shopping bags, no one has ever said we need special transit for them. But a disabled person who has to hit a joystick to operate his wheelchair, we need special transportation for them because it’s too cold, too snowy, too hilly, too wet, too this. "It's like were going to break, were going to fall apart." ADAPT sees APTA's insistence on local option as an attempt by the group to foster so-called "separate-but-equal” transportation systems. They say that APTA is attempting to segregate transit systems; keeping disabled passengers out of the mainstream system. ADAPT was formed in 1982 in Denver by Auberger and a handful of other members of that city's disabled community. It was put together because APTA had scheduled a convention for Denver and APTA's resistance to 100 percent accessible main-line public transportation for the disabled made the trade organization the moral equivalent of "the Ku Klux Klan and the Nazi party" for disabled Americans, Kafka says. Thirty demonstrators showed up at the first protest, and there have been eight subsequent protests, all at APTA regional or national conferences. The demonstrators model their actions after the non-violent civil rights activists of the 1960s. They block access to buses: they block access to the APTA convention sites. Some, including Auberger, chain themselves to buses or to doorways. The aim is arrest and the accompanying media attention. Auberger has been arrested at least 30 times by his own count, including this past Sunday at the Omni Hotel. ADAPT's militant tactics have drawn criticism from several corners, including others who work in the disabled community. "While we agree with the goals and-objectives of accessibility for disabled persons, we don't agree with the tactics of civil disobedience or confrontation as a means to achieve those objectives," says Ginny Weber, assistant to Deborah Phillips, the commissioner of the city's Office on the Disabled. "There are other ways to get things done," she says. "You can go through the legislative process. You can conduct public awareness campaigns. Over the last 10 years, some progress has been made. To change conditions that have been in existence for a long time takes a while. You have to just stay in there' and keep working towards it." Sheldon Caldwell, executive director of the St. Louis Society for Crippled Children, agrees. "I don't think it pleads our case well to have a group with a disruptive militant attitude. This is my personal opinion: I haven't polled my staff on this, but I don't think disruption is ever the way to go about it. But others are not as harsh in their judgment. "I take a different position (from those who criticize ADAPT)," says Paraquad's Tuscher. "I have the point of view that there are many ways to get from where we are to where we want to go. We're more likely to use negotiation, legislative action, legal action, public relations campaigns. Confrontation is not one of our methods, but I don't think it's my place to judge (ADAPT). Let history judge: let history prove whose method is the right one." About the criticism from within the disabled community, ADAPT's Kafka says, "Those who are in power are not going to give it up to you willingly. Without the push of civil disobedience, even the Civil Rights Act would never have come about." Says Auberger, "(Negotiation and public relations campaigns) delay the justice. It's not perceived as delaying justice, but it is. They are doing harm to their disabled brothers and sisters by saying, 'I don't support their tactics, but I do agree with their position.— Because other groups for the disabled receive so much financial support from corporations, they are less willing to be as direct in their demands as is ADAPT, he says. "They will eat a lot of garbage just to get half the loaf. "If you're going to change things, you have to get rid of the notion right away that you are going to be someone's friend," he says. "Be-cause someone is going to want something different than you do. The city of St. Louis and I will never be friends. The police and I will never be friends, but I won't lose any sleep over it. I know when I leave here, people will be talking about this issue in a way it hasn't been talked about before and something might change. "You look at demonstrators in history. Go back to the civil rights movement. The blacks who demonstrated weren't seen as 'nice.' If you go back further, to the women's suffrage movement, those women who wanted the right to vote weren't seen as mom and apple pie. But typically people who have been vocal about their rights are never perceived as being nice." PHOTO 1: Two men, one a plain clothes policeman and the other the bus driver, load a man in a scooter onto an accessible bus as several other people in suits and uniforms look on. Caption: St. Louts police arrested 41 demonstrators at the Sunday protest by ADAPT at the Omni. PHOTO 2: A man (Mike Auberger) with his hair pulled back tightly, wearing glasses, a beard and an ADAPT no steps T-shirt, sits in a long hall with bars of light on the walls and ceiling. He holds up his hands, fingers permanently folded at the first joint, guesturing as he speaks. He has a chest strap to hold him in his motorized wheelchair. Caption: Mike Auberger, one of the founders of ADAPT
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PHOTO: People stand around in small groups. In the forground is the front end of a scooter and someone's (Tommy Malone from KY) legs with knee pads. In the center an African American police officer walks toward the camera from outside into a covered area. To his side stands an African American man (Rev. Willie Smith) in white sneakers, socks, shorts and plain (non ADAPT) T-shirt and hat. He is watching a partially obscured group standing by a raised roof van, loading people in wheelchairs into it. In the background are large glass city buildings.
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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.
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PHOTO by ?: A man in a manual, sports-type, wheelchair (Glenn Horton) has his mouth wide open chanting, and beside him another man in older manual chair (Bernard Baker) chants with him. Behind him two police officers look like they are taking Glenn away. A third officer faces Glenn and looks down at him. The dark police uniforms, cause Glenn to stand out, and his dark sunglasses give him a slightly crazed look. Behind this little group you can see other officers and a TV camera man by a downtown office building.
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Fingerlakes Times, Geneva NY 9-29-87 PHOTO : Claude Holcomb, wearing a no-steps ADAPT logo T-shirt, sits strapped into his chair. He is looking down and pointing at his wooden letterboard. Uniformed police stand on either side and one is bent forward behind him pushing him. Behind them in a line is Greg Buchannan with another policeman holding his chair. Caption reads: Wheeled away. Thirty people, many in wheelchairs, were arrested yesterday during a demonstration in San Francisco by a coalition of `groups` seeking improved access to public transportation. (UPI)
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The Phoenix Gazette Tuesday, April 7, 1987 Metro Section PHOTO by Rick Giase, The Phoenix Gazette: A man (Rev. Calvin Peterson) is being tipped backwards in his motorized wheelchair by two plainclothes police officers. Peterson has his arm raised in a power fist and is looking off to the side with an angry expression. One of the officers, with dark shades on, is smirking slightly. Beside Peterson another man (Rev. Willie Smith) is standing apparently trying to talk to the officers. Caption reads: Wheelchair protest nets five arrests Two Police officers try to wheel away the Rev. Calvin Peterson as another member of ADAPT (right) appeals to them Monday during a protest outside a downtown hotel. Peterson was not arrested, but five others were held on disorderly conduct charges as they attempted to disrupt an American Public Transit Association meeting. (Story: B-8)
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The Fulcrum: Handicappers Making a Difference The newsletter produced by handicappers for handicappers in Michigan [This story continues on ADAPT 330 but the text is included here in it's entirety for easier reading.] PHOTO: A wide wet city street with about seven people in wheelchairs and scooters sitting in the middle of it. Four men, possibly reporters, stand in front of them and behind them is a city bus and some lines of cars. On one side of the street is another city bus with five other people in wheelchairs sitting by it. Picture Caption: Protesting the overturned DDOT decision, this human barricade blocked traffic in downtown Detroit. [Headline] Demonstrators ride paddy wagon, not buses By Yvonne Duffy When Mike Gambatto retired from the Detroit Police Department after an on-the-job injury, he probably never thought that one day he would be arrested for obstructing traffic on a public street. He felt so strongly about the importance of Detroit buses being accessible to persons with disabilities, however, that on the morning of November 23 he drove from Lansing to downtown Detroit to join other demonstrators, most of whom were users of wheelchairs or three-wheelers. In 1987, Gambatto was one of the plaintiffs in a class action suit in which the Wayne County Circuit Court ordered the Detroit Department of Transportation (DDOT) to purchase and maintain lifts on their buses and awarded $2.5 million in damages to the more than 1,110 people eventually included in the suit. This protest occurred because this October the MI Court of Appeals overturned the earlier decision, ruling in favor of DDOT and eliminating the monetary damages. The group of about twenty-five huddled at the intersection of Woodward and East Jefferson in hooded jackets, mufflers, mitts, and occasional afghans under a sullen grey sky punctuated by freezing rain and snow flurries. As the traffic light turned red, Gambatto and nine other chair and cart users rolled onto the road to arrange themselves so that when the light changed, traffic was completely blocked on the busy downtown street. Horns honked, and a few drivers got out of their vehicles. One driver, upon learning that the protestors were demonstrating for their right to use the city buses like everyone else, exclaimed, “I’m with you!” raising his hand in the victory sign as he returned to his car. The police were ready. Within minutes, the sergeant in charge approached Frank Clark, a post-polio retiree with a long history of activism to make Detroit more accessible, and informed him that if the group did not return to the curb they would be arrested. When they refused, the paddy wagon, which had no lift, was brought in, and officers began hoisting up the chair users. The chair of one tipped perilously to one side as he was loaded into the van. Gambatto asked to be lifted in separately from his three-wheeler, which sometimes comes apart when lifted. An assisting officer asked if Gambatto had been injured in the line of duty. The fourteen-year veteran of the force explained that a nerve in his neck had been injured when he had attempted to break through a chained door to apprehend a man who had just stabbed a little girl, resulting in a multiple sclerosis-like condition. The officer, visibly moved, replied, “I never actually met a policeman that was hurt on the job before. This hurts- it hits home.” Gambatto was elated about his participation on the demonstration. “I felt like we were doing something worthwhile out there,” he said. “We weren’t breaking a law just to break a law. We were making a point that really needed to be made- that the buses are inaccessible in the City of Detroit.” As mobility Coordinator at Michigan State University’s Program for Handicapper Students, he has become even more keenly aware of the financial and social costs of failing to make public transportation to accessible. “Instead of buying [unreadable], we, as a society, are paying for people to stay home- often for their whole lives. We waste human minds because we’re too cheap to buy wheelchair lifts.” The demonstrators were driven a few blocks to police headquarters where they were given the option of receiving tickets. During the two hours it took for processing, they were held in an unheated storeroom off the garage. There were no accessible restrooms. Nevertheless, there was general agreement among the demonstrators that the Detroit police displayed exemplary sensitivity and courtesy during the arrest and booking. “They were nice to the point of graciousness,” said Verna Spayth of Ann Arbor, an organizer of the action. According to Spayth, the police sergeant, whose late brother had been a polio quad, seemed aware that by his decision to arrest, he rescued them from the freezing rain and, at the same time, attracted attention to their protest by making it a newsworthy event. Ironically, George Harrison, a Detroit resident for 25 years and a wheelchair user for the last six, almost never made it to the protest because the bus driver did not know how to operate the lift. He was fortunate that a more knowledgeable bus driver riding to work came to his rescue. When Roger McCarville of Ortonville, whose both legs were amputated, heard about Harrison’s experience, he “knew he was in the right place.” Citing accessible public transportation as essential for a quality life, McCarville, who owns a company, Handicap Transportation, which carries people with disabilities to non-emergency medical appointments, says, “Lives go beyond medical. There’s a whole social aspect out there, and there’s no service available.” Many who live outside the metropolitan area put themselves on the line to demonstrate unity with their brothers and sisters with disabilities even though they personally did not need the service. For Spayth, Advocacy Coordinator at the Ann Arbor Center for Independent Living, who, last fall, chained herself with several other to buses in downtown Detroit but was not arrested, every opportunity to forge a sense of community is precious. She says, “Whether you get arrested or not, once you’ve chained yourself together with other people with disabilities, it’s totally impossible to look at those people again as separate individuals. Even without words, a bond is created there.” Scott Heinzman of Livonia, adds, “Even though I’m not expecting anything, there could be a time when I might need the help of people in other communities to bring attention to an issue.” For Heinzman, participating in the protest was important for other reasons. Sharing the view that Detroit has been hurt by the mass exodus to the suburbs, he feels that, as a suburban resident, he wants to give something back to the city. “People are people everywhere,” he says, “and if there are problems, problems can be solved.” Heinzman serves on the Advisory Council of the Great Lakes Center for Independent Living, whose offices are in Detroit. A 28-year-old quad, he is also bringing much-needed exposure of children to people with disabilities, through his activity with the Boy Scouts and his local Parent Teacher Organization. Ray Creech, a Canton resident, wanted to “show support for the people in Detroit who really need it [accessible transportation].” Occasionally, when he visits Trapper’s Alley or Greektown, he has tried to use the buses with mixed success. Spayth vocalizes a feeling shared by many in the disability movement: “The easy answer is that when we fight for disability rights anywhere, we fight for them everywhere, but, for me, it goes deeper than that. Every once in awhile, I feel the need to express my anger against my oppressors. What happens next in the fight to make DDOT buses reliably accessible and restore the monetary damages awarded by the lower court three years ago? The next step in the judicial process, according to Justin Ravitz, attorney for the plaintiffs, is an appeal to the Michigan Supreme Court. If the justices “have any sensitivity or allegiance to the law, they will surely hear our case,” he says. This process could take months or even years, however. Meanwhile, Detroiters with disabilities want to ride. Until they achieve that goal, Ray Creech vows, “We’ll just keep coming back!” PHOTO: Five uniformed police officers stand around a single man in a wheelchair. One of them has his head down and is touching the arm of the guy in the wheelchair. Caption reads: Police escort demonstrator to paddy wagon.
ADAPT (300)
Southwest Economist Newspapers Sunday, October 5, 1986 page 9 [Headline] Disabled will protest transit system barriers By J. Carole Buckner, staff reporter Chicago – Southwest sider Dennis Schreiber left for Detroit Friday knowing he faced a fair chance of being arrested there for civil disobedience. He was looking forward to it. In the rain-soaked parking lot of Our Lady of the Snows School, 48th St. and Leamington Ave., Schreiber said he told his wife Jackie that the trip is "a dream come true." Schreiber, who is blind, almost completely deaf and partially paralyzed, left with about 30 other handicapped persons, some coming as far away as Denver, Colorado, to protest at the American Public Transit Association's annual convention. For the past three months, Schreiber's group, Disabled Americans for Equality (DARE), has raised money to fund a delegation of protesters to go to Detroit, where they planned to hold a legal march to protest mobility barriers on buses and subways. The Reverend Wade Blank, leader of a contingent of protesters from Denver, called American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT), said the group's parade permit was revoked this week by Detroit Mayor Coleman Young. Despite the lack of a parade permit and potential for arrests, the disabled group plans to go ahead with it's march, aware of the publicity value to be gained with photos of police dragging wheelchairs into paddy wagons. The groups position, said Schreiber, is "that we want equal access to public transportation and all public facilities" Specifically, the protesters want transportation systems throughout the U.S., especially in cities such as Chicago, to be equipped with lifts for wheelchair users. Mark Mactemes, 37, said he is going on the six day journey and demonstration because he needs to use regularly scheduled public transportation to work. The Oak Forest resident has multiple sclerosis. "I graduated college in 1985 and cannot find a job because I can't drive to work and must rely on public transportation." The CTA offers bus service for the handicapped called Dial-A-Ride, "but you must call eight hours in advance and buses (minivans) only run until 10 PM," Jackie Schreiber said. The CTA subcontracts the service to four companies. In the past, CTA officials have refused to install wheelchair lifts on buses, saying the cost is prohibitive. Blank, said similar reasons were given in Denver, but after sustained efforts by handicapped groups, all the cities buses were equipped with lifts. The result has been an increase in handicapped ridership, from a few hundred to 2000 riders per month, he said. Blank said famed 1960s civil rights protester Rosa Parks is scheduled to March with the group on Sunday. In all, more than 300 handicapped persons, mostly in wheelchairs, or expected to demonstrate in Detroit, Blank said.
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This is a continuation of the story on ADAPT 292 but the entire text of the story is included there for easier reading. [this page also includes a second article] [Headline] 17 disrupt bus service, now facing court date The 2,300 APTA delegates, meeting through Thursday at the Westin Hotel, heard keynote speaker Ed Bradley of CBS News condem the tactics and positions of the handicappers. Bradley said he was lobbied by the Denver-based ADAPT to cancel his speaking engagement at the convention, but, after checking with Mayor Young and investigating ADAPT and its tactics, he decided he couldn't support the group. Bradley said he also checked with civil rights leader Rosa Parks, who canceled an appearance at a downtown ADAPT parade Sunday, saying she disapproved of their tactics. Mayor Young, in a press conference after his welcoming remarks to the convention, defended the city's efforts to provide wheelchair lifts on buses. He said the protesters, who have staged similar demonstrations at previous APTA conferences, using "Sabotage and sensationalism" to take "advantage of their disabilities tothrow themselves in front of buses. That's not the way to win co-operation." Young said the city recently bought 100 new buses, 20 of which were lift-equipped. "Rumpelstiltskin could make gold come out of straw," he said. "If I had that facility I would be able to do what they (ADAPT) ask."