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Home / Albomlar / Tag ADAPT - American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today 32
Creation date / 2013 / July
- ADAPT (635)
Different TIMES, September 24, 1990, p. 6 ADAPT fights for attendant services (Reprinted with permission from the Disability Rag; Box 145; Louisville, KY 40201.) [This story continues on 623 but the text is included here in full, for ease of reading.] “People with disabilities have the civil and human right to dependable attendant services that meet our daily needs in the location and manner of our choice." This simple declaration, made in Denver this summer, signaled the offensive being launched by ADAPT against “the nursing home lobby feeding off peoples' lives." It's ironic, says ADAPT member Mark Johnson. "Here we've finally got our rights now, in a law, and here you have more and more severely disabled people wanting to kill themselves—literally kill themselves—because they're being forced into nursing homes." “That Ken Bergstedt in Nevada [who petitioned the court in May to disconnect his respirator] is literally saying, “l'll end my life before I'll go in a nursing home," Johnson said. “What do you expect when people only have institutionalization to look forward to?" adds actress Nancy Becker Kennedy, one of the group that conducted a hunger strike in Los Angeles in July to protest the cut of California’s In Home Supportive Services. “Their attempts to stay in their homes are thwarted." lt’s the same with Georgia's highly publicized Larry McAfee, who was just put into a “group home," says ADAPT. Even after all the publicity, the State of Georgia will not put any money into funding attendant services in one's own home. And ADAPT is fed up. Recalling the phrase the transit industry used to argue that each city should decide whether or not to put lifts on buses, ADAPT calls the patchwork system of funding in-home services “the old ‘local option’ stuff all over again." “We're sick of it,"says Johnson. There needs to be a national commitment. In California, activists battled for several months to restore their In Home Support Services program which had been entirely cut from the state budget—and succeeded only in restoring it to its former level, which allows a disabled person to hire an attendant only at minimum wage and for no more than eight hours a day. People who need an attendant around the clock, like Ken Bergstedt, have little hope of avoiding a nursing home even in California, often cited as the state with the best attendant services program in the nation. Yet such battles sap the energy of disability activists for the larger fight for a national commitment. ADAPT has modified its former name, “American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation" to “American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today" to reflect its new focus. ADAPT says attendant services are a right. The group wants the program it's calling for to make attendant services available "based on functional need" rather than “whether a person can work or not." They don't want "employability" to be a "condition for getting services. And they don't want eligibility based on any specific disability, as it is in many states now. They want it to be available “to people of all ages, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, with back-up emergency services."They stress they're not asking for “someone to hold your hand" but are speaking of the realistic needs of people like McAfee, Rick Tauscher, and Bergstedt who need an attendant available around the clock. They also say a program that allows the disabled person maximum control over an attendant is mandatory. Maybe a disabled person won’t want that control; maybe they'll want someone else to handle the paperwork and hiring decisions. That should be the disabled person‘s option, they say. There’s a quality-control issue here, they insist; they want to make sure disabled people get quality care but are allowed maximum say over personal services they receive—which is all too often not the case today as home "health" agencies muscle their way into the home "care" field. They‘re sick of the word “care.” They want a program that doesn’t keep anyone from services because they make too much money; they're willing, they say, to deal with a sliding scale for fees for such a program; but they want it available to anyone who needs it—regardless of income. It's a right, and cost is simply not an issue, they say. Keeping disabled people in institutions is ludicrously more expensive than providing in-home services in this country today. They blame that lack for the problems Larry MeAfee's constantly found himself in; they blame the nursing home industry for siphoning off the money that could go to fund such services. And they charge that home health agencies are nothing more than “the new nursing homes." Home health agencies “take people on Medicare and give them services and then bill them for $60 a pop," says ADAPT organizer Wade Blank. “Then when their Medicare coverage runs out after six months, they drop ‘em." The group says it’s also targeting “the big insurance companies like Prudential" and health maintenance organizations, who they say have a vested interest in keeping the system like it is. “We're saying that ethically and morally, nursing homes are not the place to go," says Blank. “When I see my severely disabled friends, living in their own homes, when l visit them in their apartments, listen with them to records or order in a pizza—and then I see my friends living in nursing homes, wasting away, waiting to die, I get very, very angry,” said Southern California ADAPT member Lilibeth Navarro. A survey of ADAPT members through their newsletter, Incitement, led them to decide to shift the focus to attendant services, said Navarro. And they're emphatic about the term too. “It’s not ‘attendant care‘ anymore," said Blank. “Whenever anybody said ‘care’ everybody booed,“ he added. It is fitting that ADAPT, whose original members came from Denver‘s Atlantis Community, will focus on attendant services. It was that need which led to the start of Atlantis, a “community” of disabled people and attendants. Atlantis “has a neat system,"agrees Navarro, noting that the 24-hour rotary attendant services allows any Atlantis person to have an attendant available whenever it's needed. “We could call an attendant at 11:30 p.m. and have somebody here," she said. “People who are having trouble with attendants can call and get an emergency back-up." Navarro, like others, said she knew of people “who endured abuse because they were afraid to lose their attendant"—"because it's so hard to find somebody, and nobody to turn to in an emergency situation." She related the story of a man whose attendant simply walked out on him and left him, unable even to reach a phone, for four days. “If his father hadn't checked on him, he'd be dead." “Only a national attendant program," she stressed, “will free us from emotional slavery Nancy Becker Kennedy agreed with Navarro. “The linchpin for independent living is in-home attendant services. It’s humane; it gives us a future." The group has sent a letter to Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan demanding a meeting in Atlanta Oct. 1; they've given Sullivan until Aug. 15 to reply. ADAPT activists from around the nation will descend on Atlanta the first week of October to launch the fight. They’ll be calling for a quarter of the money now going to the nursing home industry to “go into a pot for attendant services." As usual, ADAPT doesn’t expect this to happen without a fight -- primarily from the “nursing home lobby.” “This October," says Blank, “we will serve notice on those groups who are the enemies of a national attendant services program." TEXT BOX: ADAPT will converge on Atlanta — home of Morehouse College, HHS Secretary Louis Sullivan’s alma mater — on Sept. 28 for week-long direct action protest and training. Nationally known organizer Shel Trapp will conduct the session Saturday, Sept. 29. For more information on travel and hotel arrangements, contact ADAPT in Denver at (303) 936-1110. — Reprinted with permission from the Disability Rag; Box 145; Louisville, KY 40201. - ADAPT (640)
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1990 Disabled protesters seize college building (This article continues in ADAPT 632, the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A thin man, Claude Holcomb, sits in a dark motorized chair in front of a huge memorial to Martin Luther King. He sits at an angle in his chair, in a button down striped shirt, his knees wide apart and thin rigid hands resting on his arm rests. Behind him the white memorial reads In memory of Martin Luther King Jr., 1929 - 1968, Outstanding alumnus of Morehouse College ..., World famous leader of the non-violent movement ..., Distinguished winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. From Morehouse College he launched his humanitarian pilgrimage to create the beloved community and for that purpose he moved... the classroom and his pulpit ... into immortality. ...Baptist Convention ... President ... General Secretary... College. Claude's chair blocks the view of some of the memorial's verbiage. You can see the push handle and part of the wheel of another chair next to him. Caption reads: Claude Holcomb at the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial at Morehouse College. Protesters compared their struggle to the civil rights leader's. Morehouse president’s office blocked By Ben Smith III, Staff writer Saying Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would smile on their protest, nearly 200 disabled activists on Monday seized the administration building on the campus where he was educated. The demonstrators, members of Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT), a national advocacy group for the disabled, took over Gloster Hall at Morehouse College in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the school president’s office. “This is a college that has always valued human rights,” said Michael Auberger, a co-founder of the group. “This is another minority that is trying to gain its human rights.” The protest was intended to force Morehouse President Leroy Keith to arrange a meeting with Louis Sullivan, secretary of Health and Human Services and an alumnus and former dean of the Morehouse School of Medicine. Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," said Mr. Auberger. More than a dozen wheelchair-bound activists rolled into Dr. Keith's office before noon Monday and barricaded the door. Scores of additional protesters followed, chanting, “We want Sullivan" and "We shall overcome,” and blocked the front door and hallways. Late in the afternoon, Dr. Keith exited through a rear door, and many other employees left the building. College officials said they were puzzled that the demonstrators took their protest to the Morehouse College administration building instead of the Morehouse School of Medicine, which is a separate institution. Richard Ammons, a school spokesman, said Dr. Keith had contacted Dr. Sullivan, who said he would not meet with the protesters. But the regional director of Department of Health and Human Services agreed to meet with demonstrators in his office today, Mr. Ammons added. “We as an institution are powerless to do anything other than [contact Dr. Sullivan],” Mr. Ammons told the protesters. “And we are asking you to leave at this time." Lee Jackson, a demonstrator, replied, “We’re going to wait right here for Sullivan.” At least 50 demonstrators said they planned to remain in the building until Dr. Sullivan meets with them or they are arrested. School officials said the college was reluctant to have the protesters arrested. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Some students who were locked out of Gloster Hall complained about the protesters, but others called their objections “hypocritical” because of the school's civil rights tradition. "Anytime you're dealing with basic human rights, protests may inconvenience some people," said Otis Moss, 20, a Morehouse philosophy and religion major. “But you have to understand that ultimately it's going to benefit all." Staff writer Lyle Harris contributed to this report. Photo by Johnny Crawford/Staff: The front of an ADAPT march. On the left side are the ADAPT marchers, most in wheelchairs, on the right, a line of parked cars at the side of the street the group is marching down. First in line is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt and in a manual chair. He is African American and has his head shaved completely bald; he looks very intense. He is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger in his motorized wheelchair with his left leg fully extended with foot in a protective boot; he's wearing a black ADAPT shirt still with the no steps logo. Behind him is Clayton Jones wearing the black ADAPT shirt and in a manual chair. Behind him you can see Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood. As the line snakes back from there you can see more people in the black T-shirts but their faces become less distinct until the whole group fades away. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. There is a second photo in the text of the article, a close up of an African American man's face. He is wearing a suit and tie. Below it is the caption: Leroy Keith. - 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 (618)
November 1992 Access USA News Page 5 Atlantis leads to ADAPT leads to independence Cathy Seabaugh, Staff Writer DENVER,CO-Their offices are relatively small compared to the massive projects the American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today organization tackles. An inconspicuous location in south central Denver serves as national headquarters for the 29 states who have ADAPT chapters. This Colorado town is a gold mine for members of the disabled community, not so much for its accessibility and attitudes, but for the brainstem which this office at 12 Broadway has become. ADAPT representatives throughout the United States act as nerve endings, sending vital messages to the Denver office so it can operate efficiently and effectively. Effectiveness: a term well defined by ADAPT members. ADAPT was conceived and delivered by staff and volunteers of Atlantis Community, founded in 1975 by former nursing home employee Wade Blank and Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic from a bobsledding accident in 1971. Atlantis emerged so that individuals, even those who are severely, multiply-disabled, have the option to live outside an institution. ln its first l5 years, Atlantis was able to successfully transition more than 400 disabled adults from “sheltered settings" to more independent living standards. As an admirable offspring of Atlantis, ADAPT set its own agenda in June 1983 and embarked on an action-packed mission to make public transportation accessible to everyone. American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit set out to train, develop and empower disabled activists so they could effectively battle for that accessibility. Eighteen members of the Atlantis community had taken the first strides toward accessible public transportation in Denver when they gathered on July 5&6, 1978, to block city buses at Broadway and Colfax across from the state capitol. ‘Then in 1982, after beating up the board enough," said Auberger, one of the 18, "they decided they'd buy all lift-equipped buses." Once ADAPT formed the next year, the foundation was in place. With Denver as a model, activists began chipping away at other cities’ granite-like, antiquated public transportation systems. "(Former President Jimmy) Carter appointed Brock Adams in 1976 and Adams set a federal mandate that all new buses bought with federal money had to have (wheelchair) lifts,” Auberger said. "Under the Reagan administration, APTA (American Public Transit Association) sued (to avoid the lift requirements) and won. "APTA was having its national convention in Denver in October 1983 and about 20 people from across the country showed up to join about 22 people from Denver. We sent notice to (APTA) that their convention would not go uninterrupted if they did not meet with us. They went to the mayor, but he said he wouldn't protect them unless they agreed to meet with us.” ADAPT met APTA there. They would meet many more times. "We decided wherever they had a convention, we would go,” Auberger said. "It moved us around to communities where they'd never been exposed to the issues. People all of a sudden became aware. "If we're talking about the issues, people are going to form an opinion. You polarize people. Whether they support you or not is not the point. If there's not an opinion there, you can't change it." The deep roots, pockets or whatever of APTA were a long-time barrier for ADAPT. But as the Americans with Disabilities Act cemented and included regulations for public transportation, APTA’s resistance to ADAPT's demands weakened until the federal govemment finally made ADA the law. With that priceless piece of legislation signed and inducted into the pages of history, ADAPT was ready for its next mission. "What we said at that point to members was to put out feelers in your communities,” Auberger said. "What we found was personal assistants was the biggest issue of concern.” Retaining the ADAPT acronym, the group devised new plans to force change in the long-term health care system of the United States. “At least 60 percent of ADAPT members have (resided) in nursing homes at one time or another,” Auberger said, "The other 40 percent have spent their lives trying to avoid going into one.” Although ADAPT and Atlantis are neither to lose its identity in the other, they are a family unit and work together toward change. Atlantis is a certified home health care agency, making 53,000 visits each year in Denver and Colorado Springs, serving approximately 85 clients. “That's 365 days a year, whether there's three feet of snow on the ground or it's 105 degrees," Auberger said. “We have a 24-hours-a-day emergency backup system that works probably 98 percent of the time." One Atlantis client is a C2 quadriplegic who is on a ventilator nonstop. Yet he is allowed to live in his own home with the help of Atlantis personal attendants. "That shows you our capabilities,” Auberger said. ”We can provide 24-hour care for about $7,500 a year. A nursing home would do it for $20,000.” ADAPT’s scrapbook for the past two years includes protests in almost countless cities throughout the country. Wherever Dr. Louis Sullivan, Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, made a speech or appearance, ADAPT added itself to the invitation list. The protests usually involved arrests, which is a proven effective tool for drawing media coverage. Radical activity, some say. "We really give the middle-of-the-road disabled community members the power to make change," Auberger said. "We make them look sane. “It's like in Illinois, Gov. Edgar didn't have a problem meeting with the straight group who went to Springfield because they were sane. lf he dealt with our radical group, he'd have to deal with all radical groups. We really give (middle-of-the-road community members) a platform." ADAPT picks on Sullivan because, they say, he can initiate change. They argue that Sullivan's signature is all that's necessary to require the states receiving Medicaid to provide personal assistants. Just more than half the states provide such funding and many; if not all, of those programs are underfunded, restricted and far short of meeting the demand. ADAPT seeks to convince Health and Human Services - Sullivan - to take one-third of the $15 billion Medicaid dollars and commit it to home-based, consumer-controlled services. "Every state that buys into Medicaid has to fund nursing homes,” Auberger said, explaining how the system currently works. Sixty-five percent of all money paid to nursing homes is Medicaid funds. "States have little play in what they can do with Medicaid.” Nursing homes use what's called a “cold bed rate" which refers to the empty beds in their institutions that are not producing income. Lobbyists for the nursing home industry are looking at these rates and profit margins, not at long-term care that allows individuals to retain their independence. "We’ve become a valuable commodity,” Auberger said. "It's a normal mindset to put someone in a nursing home. This is so ingrained in our society. There's currently no alternative, and most people aren't able to envision the type of care we're talking about." Auberger encourages every person he can to write letters to members of Congress, senators and other politicians who can have an impact on the future of people with disabilities. "When you do that, you raise a level of consciousness,” he said. "You don't have to mention (the numbers), just the concept. "The logic is the problem. When parents are doing (personal attendant care), for free, it doesn't have to be skilled. When Medicaid pays for that same care, a nurse has to do it.” Statistics provided by the American Health Care Association show the average lifespan on an individual in a nursing home is 21 months. "You can't convince me there's quality care in a nursing home," Auberger said. "We (at Atlantis) are non-medical personal attendants. When the staff goes into a home, the person in that home is the boss. We do things the way they want us to do them. "People don't have to give up their power to able-bodied people. But it's okay to share the power." Although many members of the disabled community have made endorsements this election year, ADAPT chooses to remain rather neutral - for a change. "Don't pick a side,” Auberger said. "As soon as you pick a side and that side loses, you now have an enemy on the other side. That's been real effective tor us. We'll rate candidates on disability issues, but we won't endorse anyone. "If there's a disability issue in Colorado, legislators call here, the media calls here. We're a powerful entity in this state. As hundreds of ADAPT activists confronted the annual conference of the nursing home industry in San Francisco October 19-21, the power of this entity spread toward the Pacific. Persons interested in more information about ADAPT can call Auberger or Wade Blank at (303) 733-9324 (voice and TDD). INSERT AT CENTER OF PAGE: Across the top in bold letters the word "ATLANTIS" and below that ADAPT's new Free Our People logo, the wheelchair access symbol with it's arms raised above its head breaking chains that are bound to it's wrists. Above this figure, in a semi-circular pattern the words "Free Our People" and below, also in a semi-circular pattern, "ADAPT" - ADAPT (617)
Atlanta Journal Constitution Disabled end protest siege at Morehouse By Ben Smith III, Staff writer (This story continues on ADAPT 630 but the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO (by Dianne Laakso/Staff): A medium close up of a glass doorway framed in metal. Slightly opened you can see through the opening and the glass a woman (Julie Nolan) in a manual wheelchair seated and blocking the door. She is looking out a far away look in her eye and one arm rests on the inside push handle of the door, while her other strong hand is spread on her leg. She is wearing a teal T-shit and jeans. The writing in her T-shirt is partially obscured by folds and by the door frame but you can make out what appears to be "EQUAL ACCESS NOW" and around these words what appears to be a circle saying "Cape Organization for [Rights of the Disabled]. Disabled activists ended their occupation of a Morehouse College administration building today, leaving with what they said was a statement from the college saying it sympathized with the group’s concerns. About 50 members of ADAPT, or American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, left the building carrying a statement written on Morehouse President Leroy Keith's stationery. But the statement was not signed or read by any college official, and college officials refused to comment or come out of the building. Meanwhile, another group of disabled activists continued their protest against the nursing home industry and the federal government’s policies on the disabled by barricading the Georgia Health Care Association’s (GHCA) office in Decatur. More than 75 protesters in wheelchairs blocked the entrances and driveways of the GHCA’s headquarters on Memorial Drive early this afternoon, trapping six people in the office. The protesters delivered their demands to GHCA executive vice president Fred Watson, who refused to honor them. The protesters were demanding that Mr. Watson fax a list of their demands to the American Health Care Association, with which the Georgia organization is affiliated. The demands included redirection of federal and state money away from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Watson said, “I’ll send a letter, but not right now.” DeKalb County police who arrived at the scene said they have no plans to arrest the demonstrators. “That’s the last thing we want to do," said Lt. J.W. Austin. “We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place." The disabled activists had occupied the Morehouse College administration building for a day and a half. About 200 demonstrators had taken over Gloster Hall on the Morehouse campus in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the president's office Monday. David Veatch, 24, a Utica, N.Y., member of ADAPT, said, “We are going to let them know that the nursing home lobby needs to reform. We're talking to our captors about our rights.” Earlier, ADAPT members said they wanted Dr. Keith to write a letter to Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan, asking him to support the organization's position and meet with group members sometime in the near future. But Dr. Keith said he would not write or sign such a letter. “We have no business intervening in this situation where we have no authority," he said. ADAPT wants the federal government to redirect 25 percent of the Medicaid budget from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Veatch estimated the total federal budget for the disabled at more than $17.5 billion. Protesters argue that shifting federal funds to home care for the disabled is more humane and more cost-efficient. Michael Auberger, an ADAPT co-founder, estimated that 250,000 disabled people are being held in nursing homes against their will.” He said that redirecting funds to home care could aid an additional 150,000 disabled people. Mr. Veatch said it costs $30,000 a year to house a disabled person in a nursing home and only $6,000 to $8,000 to care for them at home. “But handicapped continue to be housed in nursing homes," Mr. Veatch said, because we don’t have to deal with the fact that we don’t have accessible communities or accessible buses if we lock them up.” “The ghetto in Soweto is no different than a nursing home,” Mr. Auberger said. You’re locked in there. You don’t have the freedom to leave. You don’t have a choice of what you eat, what time you go to bed or what time you get up. Your freedoms are so restricted that you’re better off being in the Fulton County Jail.” Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," Mr. Auberger said. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Staff writer Lyle Harris and The Associated Press contributed to this report. PHOTO, by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A line of people in wheelchairs and dark ADAPT "no steps" T-Shirts head toward the camera, traveling along the side of a road. Beside them are parked cars and onlookers. In the front is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt; he is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger, with his leg extended out in front of him. Behind him is Clayton Jones, and next is Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood, and behind them faces become blurrier, but you can see Arthur Campbell. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. - ADAPT (713)
The Guardian, May 27,1992 Photo by Tom Olin: A disabled man dressed all in white (Tim Craven) lies on his back to crawl under a police barricade. Beside him a woman (Barbara Bounds) in a wheelchair leans toward him as if to support and protect him. She is facing the barricade and has a sign taped to the back of her chair that says "People Before Profits." Two police men lean over the barricade toward Tim and another sticks his arm in between them. Behind them are even more officers. On the near side of the barricade yet another officer stands, bending almost all the way forward toward Tim on the ground. Caption reads: Protesters in Chicago got our of their wheelchairs and lay down in front of the barricades, forcing employees to walk over them. Disabled militants bring hope to health reform By Mary Johnson Chicago-Hundreds of members and supporters of ADAPT (American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today) took to the streets here May 10-13 to continue their fight for in-home attendant services and to move the national health-Cate debate into the rights arena. The group is aiming to force the American Medical Association—whose headquarters are here—and the American Health Care Association, the nursing home lobby, to replace “home care" with "attendant services“ which consumers control “in the location and manner of our choice,“ says ADAPT. ADAPT, which under the name American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation won the national fight for wheelchair lifts on buses, intend their street protests as the “flashpoint," says founder Wade Blank, for national health care reform. There is nothing medical about assistance to bathe, eat or dress, these activists charge. Target: Louis Sullivan Learning that Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan would be speaking at University of Chicago commencements on May 10, the 250-strong ADAPT contingent cancelled a Mother‘s Day march and stormed into the university‘s pavilion, planning to disrupt Sullivan's speech. Police and Secret Service agents promptly ejected them, but the group spent the afternoon handing leaflets to graduates‘ families. Sullivan has been a perennial ADAPT target for his refusal to meet with them to discuss Medicaid policy on nursing homes. The next day, ADAPT surrounded the HHS regional offices in downtown Chicago, managing to get up to 15th-floor offices before being blocked by police. Others in the group cordoned off exits, forcing building employees to climb over them, and at one point succeeded in getting department officials into the street to listen to the group‘s demands. Ten protesters were cited and released. On May 12, ADAPT moved to AMA headquarters, blocking adjacent streets and crawling up to bang on office windows. Police barricaded the doors, but protesters got our of their wheelchairs and piled themselves at barricades, forcing AMA employees to step over them when their offices shut down early. Police moved to arrest four people they believed to be in command. The four included Mike Auberger of Denver and Arthur Campbell of Louisville, Ky., who were released later in the day. Garnering media attention Though ADAPT planned to press state targets only on May 13, the state barricaded its downtown State of Illinois Building on the two days before. Guards locked wheelchair access doors and forced wheelchair users to submit to police escort on elevators. On May 12, Chicago ADAPT member Paulette Patterson sued the state over discriminatory denial of access. Though District judge Milton Shadur failed to grant a requested temporary restraining order, Patterson’s attorney, Matthew Cohen, said he had “no doubt the suit had an effect.” On May 13, ADAPT took over the building while city police squabbled with state police over jurisdiction and mostly kept their hands off protesters. Longtime Chicago activists noted ADAPT‘s success in garnering media attention. Chicago Lawyers Guild member Ora Schub said ADAPT‘s protests got more coverage than Gulf war demonstrations in the city — even when antiwar protesters shut down Lake Shore Drive. There seems little question ADAPT has begun to have an impact beyond disability rights. As one of the only groups to take the health reform issue into the streets, ADAPT, says Blank, sees its role “as focusing the debate on a bigger political issue” within health-care reform: services as a legal right. “What the disability rights movement can do is humanize society,” he says. Tennessee ADAPT recently forced the hospital power structure there to accept a state financing fee that will fully fund Medicaid (see sidebar). Lawyer Gordon Bonnyman, who was involved in the Tennessee campaign, remembers a “poverty advocate friend" sending him a clipping about an ADAPT protest in Orlando, Fla., in 1990, when the group first took on the American Health Care Association over the attendant services issue. He and his friend “were despairing about health reform," he said, “asking ourselves when the people who were really affected were going to begin to influence the discussion. "l said, ‘l just don‘t see that ever happening until people are willing to stage some direct actions,‘ " Bonnyman recalls. “Then she sent me that clipping from ADAPT's Orlando action and she said, ‘Here are the folks who could do that.'" “My response at that time was, ‘That’s nice, but how many people is that?‘ I now think: ‘Enough.' ADAPT really does have the ability to have an impact nationally on health care issues-far beyond their own issue of personal attendant services." The group plans similar actions in San Francisco this fall. Second, sidebar, article inserted on this page: Saving Medicaid in Tenn Six people in wheelchairs moved swiftly a cross across the drive-way of the Tennessee Health Care Association in Nashville on March 31. Chaining themselves together, the small band waited for members of the Tennessee Hospital Association to come out of their meeting. It was a classic ADAPT action. This time ADAPT was leading a coalition of health care reformers that would force the state‘s powerful hospital lobby to drop its opposition to a state licensing fee intended to prevent a $1.1 billion loss in federal Medicaid funds. Tennessee pioneered the concept of leveraging matching federal Medicaid funds by levying a state financing fee against hospitals that took Medicaid patients. With its 70-30 match, the state took the $300 million collected from participating hospitals to obtain another $700 million in federal matching funds. With that tactic, Tennessee was fully funding its Medicaid program and feeling no financial crisis. By 1991 it was in use in 37 states, with many reporting similar success. The federal government, alarmed at having to pay out increased Medicaid funds to stares that used this method, devised a plan to derail it. A little-publicized 1991 law made such licensing fees illegal unless levied against all hospitals equally. It counted on opposition from hospitals that took no Medicaid patients (and therefore had no reason to agree to the fees) to fight state passage of licensing fee bills. That opposition was swift in coming in Tennessee. The state is home to Hospital Corporation of America and HealthTrust, two of the nation's largest hospital chains, and numerous other hospitals. The Tennessee Hospital Association, of which Hospital Corporation of America is a powerful member, opposed the fee. A state bill to extend the fee to all hospitals was virtually dead, said Tony Garr, head of the Tennessee Health Care Campaign, until ADAPT of Tennessee, led by organizer Diane Coleman, got involved. “The only way we could bring attention to the issue was to hit the streets,” said Garr. “ADAPT played a very important role" in helping other groups in the Tennessee Health Care Campaign “move to direct action,” said Gordon Bonnyman, a lawyer who has worked with Medicaid issues in Tennessee. Beginning in January, Coleman and Tennessee ADAPT members staged weekly actions, targeting the large hospitals as villains who were destroying the state’s Medicaid program. The first week a group of nearly 200 people, headed by ADAPT, marched to the Hospital Association's offices. The next week the group staged a protest in front of Baptist Hospital, which opposed the fee. The group hung a sign asking “Are you Christian?" on the hospital administrator's portrait. The group‘s fifth action targeted Thomas Frist, who heads Hospital Corporation of America. “We had a small casket, with dollar bills draped over it, and a sign that read, “Thomas Frist, how many must die for your $1.235 million in annual cash compensation?” said Coleman. The protests had the desired effect. Frist, reportedly upset by the negative publicity, capitulated the day the group surged on Health Care Association headquarters with the cross and withdrew his corp0ration’s opposition to the fee—reportedly urging legislators to vote swiftly to pass the law to avoid more unfavorable publicity. “There have been Medicaid cuts for the last 15 years in this country, and they have gone mostly unreported," said Bonnyman. “ADAPT galvanized people. Without them, the whole thing would have gone down the toilet." M.J. - ADAPT (637)
Disabled occupy Morehouse office ATLANTA (UPI) — About 60 wheelchair-bound protesters occupied the Morehouse College president’s office Monday, demanding a meeting with Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan. The group, American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, or ADAPT, targeted the predominantly Black college for the demonstration because Sullivan is a former president of the Morehouse School of Medicine. The disabled protesters hoped Morehouse officials would use their influence to arrange a meeting with Sullivan. Morehouse spokesman Robert Bolton said the college’s president was trying to decide on a response to the situation, and was discussing what to do with Health and Human Services officials. ADAPT wants Sullivan to redirect 25 percent of Medicaid’s $17.5 billion nursing home budget to programs that would provide home care for the disabled. “People commit suicide, they die in nursing homes because they don’t have attendant care,”' said Michael Auberger, an organizer of the demonstration. Auberger said ADAPT was not asking for more money. Instead, the group wants funds reallocated to community programs, so disabled people can live at home with assistance. “We’re not talking about nurses,” said Auberger, who is wheelchair- bound. “Typically, most disabled people aren’t sick. For instance, I mostly just need help getting dressed and getting in my(wheelchair). “A national attendant service program would allow people to conceivably become employed when they otherwise wouldn’t" he said. Auberger said ADAPT sent a letter to Sullivan in July requesting a meeting, but had received no response. Dozens of protesters have come to Atlanta from 22 states and as far away as California for a week of demonstrations to dramatize the plight of the disabled. - ADAPT (628)
Edition USA/Colorado ADAPT seeks home care for all by Kerri S. Smith A national disabled persons’ advocacy organization based in Denver has launched a campaign aimed at moving people from nursing homes to home care. American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT) has at short-term goal: to re-direct 25 percent on the government's annual nursing home care budget. That money—estimated at $5.5 billion federal money and $5.5 billion from state coffers-would fund a national home care program instead. Under the ADAPT proposal, nursing home residents whose care is covered by Medicare or Medicaid could live at home. The government would pay home are attendants to care for them, rather than paying the facility. ADAPT spokesperson Mike Auberger said the group seeks “the ultimate demise of the nursing home system," and contends that paying an attendant to provide home care for a person usually costs less than nursing home care. In theory, the ADAPT plan would spend government money more efficiently-the same money would be used to care for more people who need assistance. The government is not enthusiastic about the idea, and a local nursing home industry spokesperson said ADAPT's demands are unrealistic. Auberger said Health and Human Services secretary Louis Sullivan declined to meet with ADAPT representatives. "We've been going back and forth with them, and the outcome is he doesn't meet with radical groups," Auberger said. And Arlene Linton, executive director of the Colorado Health Care Association (CHCA), said moving nursing home residents out of facilities “would isolate many of them from the community. “They'd also be without the 24-hour-care and rehabilitative services provided in nursing homes," Linton said. CHCA is the local branch of the American Health Care Association, which represents the nursing home industry. Linton added that ADAPT "is talking dollars, not people. Some residents have outlived their family and friends, and need the support a nursing home offers." A national campaign to publicize ADAPT's proposal began Jan. 15. Members demonstrated at government offices (including Health Care Financing Administration offices) and nursing homes in 24 cities. Auberger said media coverage was minimal, due to the Persian Gulf Crisis. Locally, ADAPT representatives demonstrated in Lakewood at Bethany Care Center. In the mid-'70s, the facility was operated by different owners and was known as Heritage House. Conditions at that time sparked a 13-year lawsuit over nursing home residents’ rights. The Federal Omnibus Reconciliation Act (OBRA) of 1988 also addressed quality of life issues for nursing home residents. The bill became effective Oct. 1, 1990. ln 1974, former Heritage House residents joined with Denverite Wade Blank and others to form the Atlantis Community, a local home care agency that currently cares for 135 people in Denver and Colorado Springs. Later, Atlantis Community leaders founded ADAPT. The group mobilized the civil rights movement for disabled persons, and ultimately affected the way nursing homes are inspected and regulated nationally. Auberger claims many current nursing home patients don't require intensive medical care, and "end up there only because they're out of money or their families can't care for them." Linton said CHCA met with ADAPT representatives twice to discuss the attendant proposal, "but they rejected our request to form a task force to find common ground." While Linton endorses home care as “a part of the long-term care continuum," she called the ADAPT proposal “robbing Peter to pay Paul. "We cannot support the concept of lowering funding for nursing home patients, to set up another funding to attendant services," Linton said. “We need new, additional funding for that." Recent federal budget cuts may make additional funding unlikely, at least in the near future. Atlantis and ADAPT are determined, however, and they are prepared for a long campaign. - ADAPT (1764)
IF HEAVEN ISN'T ACCESSIBLE, GOD IS IN TROUBLE by Tari Susan Hartman Reprinted from Incitement, A publication of Atlantis/ADAPT [This article appears in ADAPT 1764 & 1773 but is completely included here for easier reading.] ADAPT mourns the loss of one of our greatest leaders, Wade Blank, and his son Lincoln. while on a family vacation in Todos Santos, Mexico, Lincoln got caught in an ocean undertow. Wade swam out to save him and both drowned on February 25th, 1993. They are survived by Wade's wife Molly and daughters Heather and Caitlin. Ironically, Wade died in the same way he lived swimming out into the face of hostile under currents, and giving his life to help others fight for theirs, Those who have come to national ADAPT actions remember in the early days Lincoln rode along on Wade's back. Later, he walked by wade's side while Caitlin rode. with his elfish smile, Lincoln quietly drank in all the action at demonstrations, vigils, planning meetings and anything else that came up in his dad's activist life. while other kids play "doctor" or "house", Lincoln played "rally." Wade was born December 4, 1940 in Pittsburgh, PA. After attending an all white high school, he travelled with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to Selma on a dare by a black college roommate. His experiences there taught him the deep oppression perpetuated by our "civilized" society. Once he graduated college, he served as pastor of a church just outside of Kent, Ohio that became the underground meeting place for the Students for a Democratic Society, SDS. After the Kent State killings, he returned to get a masters degree from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained a Presbyterian minister. Burnt out on his past activism and organizing, he moved to Denver and began working in a nursing home. with years of civil rights, war on poverty and antiwar organizing experience, he could not ignore the oppression he found there. So he began to deliver Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream of freedom directly to the doorstep of the disability ghetto: the nursing home. In 1971, while on staff at Heritage House, a Denver nursing home, Wade tried to work within the system to dignify the lives of the young disabled residents. A recent ABC—TV movie with Fred Savage entitled "When You Remember Me" chronicled this story. Wade and the resident's efforts were doomed to fail, but they gave birth to a better alternative. In 1974 Wade founded the Atlantis Community a model for community-based and consumer controlled independent living center named for the lost continent of Atlantis, those easily forgotten and dismissed. The first members of Atlantis were those young adults incarcerated in Heritage House, from which Wade had been fired. Forgotten by the system and often by their families, these individuals were not forgotten by Wade as he began to liberate them from the nursing home into the Atlantis Community. Years later Wade and attorney John Holland masterminded a $32 million lawsuit against Heritage House nursing home for obstruction of justice and violation of civil rights. The case went all the way to the US Supreme Court. Today many of those original nursing home residents are raising families in homes they now own. In 1978 Wade and Atlantis realized that if people with disabilities were to truly live independently, they would need, and should have a right to, accessible public transportation. On July 5-6. 1978 a "gang of nineteen" disability activists and Wade held their first inaccessible bus hostage in the Denver intersection of Broadway and Colfax. Late that night Wade was surprised when US Congresswoman Pat Schroeder handed him a doughnut and a cup of coffee. Atlantis‘ decision to take the fight for lifts on buses to the national level soon led to the birth of ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit. ADAPT was the nation's first direct action, grass-roots movement of disability activists and mushroomed in over 30 states, Canada, Sweden and England. Like the freedom riders of the 60s, ADAPT's struggle for accessible public transit became a national battle cry of the 80s. Over the course of eight years of biannual national demonstrations throughout the country, hundreds of ADAPT activists and their families and friends were arrested for their beliefs and commitment to ensure civil rights for all disabled citizens. Twelve years after the first bus seize, the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA, mandated lifts on buses. ADAPT's street chant "access is a civil right" echoed in the halls of Congress, as politicians became increasingly aware that ADAPT and the disability rights movement fully expected ADA to be passed as landmark civil rights legislation. ADAPT organized the "wheels of Justice" march in March of 1990, and Wade played a key role. It was a call-- to— action that galvanized the disability rights movement to demand swift passage of ADA with no weakening amendments. Over 1,000 disability rights activists from across the nation joined forces with ADAPT to demonstrate to the world that they were to be taken seriously. On the second anniversary of the signing of the ADA (July 25, 1992), the city of Denver and its Regional Transit District commemorated that historic event by dedicating a plaque to Atlantis/ADAPT and the "gang of nineteen" who held the first bus. Wade refused to have his name engraved on the plaque, but his silent tears at the dedication ceremony revealed the depth with which he felt the issues of disability rights. He had left his mark forever etched in the foundation of our civil rights movement. In 1990, when it was clear that ADAPT had successfully led and won the fight for accessible public transportation with the passage of the ADA, wade and other national ADAPT leaders convened to plot their next course of action. There was little question for anyone what that next issue would be. ADAPT transformed its mission and became "American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today." Together, ADAPT and wade returned to the scene of one of society's most heinous crimes the warehousing of 1.6 million disabled men, women and children. These disabled Americans committed no crime, yet were and still are, interred against their will, in nursing homes, state schools and other institutions. They are used as the crop of industries like the nursing home lobby, physicians and their conglomerate owners who continue to get rich by robbing our people of their fundamental civil, human and inalienable rights to life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Most of us are spectators sitting on the sidelines of life, learning history from books. Wade, was an active participant in over three decades of political organizing. He taught others how to create and record their own destiny. A brilliant strategist, he helped shape the tide of the disability rights movement. Yet Wade was never too busy to roll up his sleeves and assist someone with attendant services, push or repair a chair or drive a van. He stood up for what he believed in and expected others to do the same. In his Pursuit to free others from the chains of oppressions he was arrested 15 times and proud of it! Several weeks ago Wade Blank's story, including the development of Atlantis and ADAPT, was officially accepted into the National Archives. Wade, a passionate Cleveland Browns fan, was a loving husband, daddy, friend, organizer and leader. He valued and encouraged the unique contributions that each of us has to give to ourselves, each other and the world around us. We honor his contribution, value his friendship, and grieve the loss of our beloved friend and colleague. Wade was one of the few non disabled allies of the disability rights movement who understood the politics of oppression. At times through the years, his leadership role was questioned, but he never lost sight of the vision, nor lacked the support of those he was close with. Photo by Tom Olin: Wade Blank and Mike Auberger sitting on either side of the plaque honoring the Gang of 19. Caption reads: Co-Directors Wade Blank and Mike Auberger reflect on the past decade of organizing and activism. - ADAPT (1789)
The Handicapped Coloradan / Page 15 & 16 [This article continues in ADAPT 1786, but has been completely included here for easier reading.] Title: "If heaven isn't accessible God had better Watch out!" Photo: Waist up picture of Wade Blank with his below shoulder length blonde hair and round tinted glasses. He is smiling and wearing a vest. Caption reads: Wade Blank ADAPT founder dies in Mexico. Wade Blank went down to Baja, California, in February and drowned there trying to save his eight year old son Lincoln. He was there vacationing with his family. The money for the trip came from Wade’s share of a legal settlement in San Francisco when bad guys violated the civil rights of ADAPT demonstrators. He couldn't afford that kind of trip on his own. He never made more than $16,000 in his life. Lincoln was in the water swimming. An undertow got him and Wade went in after him. He had to know there was very little chance either one would survive. Some fisherman from a nearby village fished Wade’ s body from the water. His wife Molly brought his body home and they covered the coffin with an American flag. Only the stars on this flag formed a wheelchair. Lincoln’s body was never recovered. A few days before he left on that vacation, I told him to skip Baja and its treacherous waters for the calmer seas off Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula. Wade said he’d think about it but we both knew he wouldn’t alter his plans. Wade Blank liked to be where the action was. Many of the 1100 people who filled the ballroom at the Radisson Hotel on Sunday, Feb. 21, to say goodbye to their fallen comrade had accompanied him into battle. “If heaven isn’t accessible,” one of them warned, “God better watch out!” Wade founded the Atlantis Community in 1975 when he helped several disabled people move out of a nursing home and into their own apartments. Then he went on to help organize protests against RTD for not having wheelchairs lifts on its buses, a move that later led to the creation of ADAPT, which then stood for American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (“The hard part is getting the acronym right,” he told me at the time.) I asked Tom Olin who was going to replace Wade. “No one,” he said. “Wade was into empowering disabled people. It’s a tribute to him that we’ll just keep on going.” Maybe. But it won’t be the same. People like Wade Blank don't come along very often. A writer for Westward once called Wade the nearest thing to a saint he had ever met. But Wade wasn’t perfect. After all, he was a Cleveland Browns’ fan. He had it so bad that on game day he’d call home to his folks in Ohio and have them put the phone next to the radio. He was president of the Cleveland Browns Fans in Exile Club. A small part of him died when Elway found Jackson in the end zone in the 1987 AFC Championship game. He was a devoted father who had a vasectomy reversed after he married Molly. He called me soon after the operation and bitched about having to lie still to prevent the tubes from severing again. It was the only time I knew him to stay still. The time spent was worth it. He loved Lincoln and Caitlan just as he loved Heather, his adopted daughter. He instilled in them special values. A neighbor recalled a time when she came home and observed Lincoln in front of his house directing some other kids. They weren't playing cowboy and Indian or war or any of the usual childhood games. They were playing rally. “All right,” Lincoln said. “United we stand, never apart.” Wade was a Presbyterian minister whose language would make a coal miner blush. I quoted him a lot on these pages over the past ten years or so but I never quoted him accurately. He used four letter words the way other people use punctuation. Someone made a TV movie about the events at Heritage Nursing Home and Wade said it was close to the truth. But the actor who played Wade didn’t quite capture his style. Wade wore his hair long and looked a little like a construction worker who took a wrong tum back in the 1960s. He once asked me if I wore ties. “I own one,” I said. “It keeps my sleeping bag rolled up.” He liked that. He hated ties. At the memorial service, those few men who showed up wearing ties were asked to remove them—out of respect. By then I owned a real tie. You can‘t go to a funeral in my small hometown without one. I left it at home for Wade. He didn’t have the eloquence of a Martin Luther King. He didn't need it. He wasn’t interested in grabbing the spotlight for himself. He taught his friends that their wheelchairs were a weapon and if they used them right, the whole world would take notice. RTD took notice. Denver became one of the first cities in the U.S. to adopt accessible public transit. Wade helped carry that message to countless other cities. He showed people how they could make a statement by going to jail and then he went out and raised the bail money. Eventually, in a parking lot in Atlanta, the feds gave in. Accessible public transit would be the law of the land. Wade wasn’t about to rest on his laurels. He turned his attention to an earlier cause. ADAPT changed the acronym to American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today and took on the nursing home industry. Wade knew that the disabled warriors who took on the federal government over accessible transit and got themselves arrested scores of times were strong enough to live in their own homes. He vowed to force the federal government to take money away from the nursing homes and make that dream a reality. That battle goes on. His friends at ADAPT are planning a memorial service in his honor in Washington, D.C. this May. At the same time, they’re going to make sure Bill Clinton honors his promises to provide funds for such attendant care. It's a fitting memorial but you can find plenty of monuments to Wade Blank in this country. There one at every street comer where there’s a curb cut and one on every bus equipped with a lift. And every time someone who is exploited because of a physical disability raises a fist in defiance and fights for his or her freedom and humanity, you’ll see Wade’s image in their eyes and his dream in their hearts. So long, Wade. If it’s really heaven, there won’t be a dress code. Written by Tom Schantz - 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. - ADAPT (691)
Title: 73 arrests in wheelchair melee by Darryl E. Owens Orlando Sentinel Monday 10/7 [This article is continued on ADAPT 688 but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by Tom Fitz/Sentinel: A woman (Anita Cameron) is being shoved over by a security guard or police officer, only his arm is visible. Her face shows pain and fear. She is falling into the lap of a woman in a wheelchair (Jennifer McPhail) who looks down at Anita and is being held forward by a woman and a man protester who are looking at the police. Behind Jennifer is another wheelchair user and behind them is another ADAPTer in a wheelchair and a man standing (Chicken-man Carl ______). Over the shoulders of the other two protesters more ADAPT protesters, in wheelchairs and standing, are up against other barriers but looking at what is happening to Anita. In the background the ADAPT bubble van is visible. Caption: [Unreadable][Anita]Cameron of Denver is shoved in confrontation with Peabody security force members Title: Disabled place hotel under siege by Darryl E Owens of the Sentinel Staff The battle lines were drawn early Sunday afternoon. For Wade Blank and the 210 or so members of ADAPT, or American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, the plan was simple. “We're going to block the entrance to the hotel because those people block our lives," he said of the American Health Care Association, which represents nursing home operators and has attracted 3,500 people to a convention this week at the Peabody Hotel. On the other side, hotel security and about 130 Orange County deputies and Florida Highway Patrol troopers were standing by to stop any protesters who blocked the doors with their bodies or their wheelchairs. “The main goal is to assist and help these people in a professional and sensitive manner," said sheriffs spokesman Cpl. Doug Sarubbi. “But when they break the law. we’ve got to enforce it." When the battle ended, one person had been hurt. one had suffered a heart attack and at least 73 had been arrested as ADAPT launched its four-day protest demanding fewer people be kept in nursing homes and more money be devoted to caring for the disabled at home. It was a battle authorities had mapped out extensively, making sure officials and facilities could accommodate the 'protesters' disabilities, said Sarubbi and Ed Royal, the Orange County Jail's assistant corrections director of programming. The costs of the special provisions had not been added up late Sunday, Sarubbi said. “This wasn't supposed to be the big day" of the protest, Sarubbi said. “We expect it every day and are prepared for whatever happens." More arrests were expected late Sunday, Sanibbi said. Each protester was charged with trespassing, taken to the Orange County Jail and held on $1,000 bail. A woman apparently was cut on the head when a table or bicycle lock fell on her while she tried to break through a barricade at the north entrance of the hotel. Pat Hasley, a top Peabody security specialist, suffered a heart attack outside the hotel and was taken to SandLake Hospital. His condition was unknown late Sunday. In demonstrations across the country, ADAPT has blocked meetings, disrupted speeches and shut down offices. “We chose to shut down the able-bodied system that suppresses us," ADAPT co-founder Blank said. "If they choose to arrest us, so be it." Denver-based ADAPT wants Medicaid to redirect 25 percent of its $23 billion nursing home budget to home care for the disabled. The group also wants 45 minutes on the convention agenda to make its position known. “We‘re not trying to change the world," said Toni Funderburk, who calls herself a nursing home survivor. “We're just trying to live in it." Linda Keegan, a vice president for the nursing home association, said the group could better spend its time at the bargaining table rather than barricading buildings. “I think it would make a bigger difference if they sit down with us and come to a compromise. "It's not our money to give," she said. “The real issue is an issue of choice. There needs to be choice on both sides. The only approach that makes sense is to sit down and form a compromise that makes sense for all." Sunday's showdown began at 12:35 p.m. as protesters filed out of the Clarion Plaza Hotel, across the street from the Peabody, with a phone number to a group lawyer scrawled on their arms, shouting "Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho! Nursing homes have got to go!" Others carried signs with such slogans as "End apartheid Destroy nursing homes" as others waved a modified U.S. flag with the stars forming the universal handicapped symbol. As the first protesters reached the Peabody parking lot, deputies confronted them. The protesters climbed out of their wheelchairs, crawled on the ground and tried to scoot past and through the legs of deputies in a race for the hotel doors. “Get to that damn door," barked Bob Kafka, a Texas ADAPT organizer. “Go! Go! Go!" Security scrambled to block the protesters, but ADAPT members managed to create a logjam at the entrance with their bodies or wheelchairs. “It's inconvenient," Peabody general manager Michael French said of the protest. “We respect their right to protest, but they must respect our right to operate a business." After the protesters refused security workers' request to leave, several school buses arrived, specially equipped for the disabled. Authorities brought in a moving van for non-disabled protesters. “We tried civil means and they just give us a cookie, pat us on the back and say, ‘Go away,'" Funderburk said. Deputies carried crawling protesters and ushered wheelchair users into the vehicles. The display drew looks of disbelief from some hotel guests and empathy from others. “It's awful," said Elma Oeters, visiting from Europe. Jacqueline Krygsman of Holland called the situation ridiculous, saying her country has a national health care policy. “They should have things at home." Police shuttled prisoners across the street to a makeshift booking office at the Orange County Convention and Civic Center before taking them to jail. Royal said open bay cells normally reserved for juveniles, psychotic inmates and those with other special needs were used for the protesters in wheelchairs. Guards were on duty in the bays. The open bays, which normally hold about 60 people, contained between six and 10 handicapped people, depending on their needs. Four nurses were added to the normal staff of five, he said. "The corrections staff underwent special training to understand the needs of handicapped individuals," Royal said. Other special provisions made by the jail included obtaining hand-held commodes and arrangements for the care of any guide dogs accompanying blind protesters. Those arrested will have to go through the normal process to be released. “Those who are able to bond will be allowed to bond," Royal said. “Those who are not able to bond will have to go to first appearance before a judge in the morning." Most protesters, after being informed of the $1,000 bond, said they could not afford to pay and would remain in jail, Blank said. "I guess Orlando wants to prove a point," he said. “We didn't travel 1,900 miles to haul it in after one day. It's not like it‘s anything new. Nursing homes or jail. We know what being incarcerated is all about." Mary Brooks of the Sentinel staff contributed to this report. - ADAPT (752)
San Francisco Chronicle S.F.Police Being Trained How To Arrest Disabled Protesters San . Francisco police are bracing for a demonstration this month in which they may arrest dozens of wheelchair-bound protesters, an event that poses special problems for officers. Groups of officers have been taking a two-hour class at the Police Academy aimed at teaching them how to arrest and search disabled people and prevent wheelchairs from being used as weapons. The demonstration is planned in conjunction with the October 1'/-23 [sic] annual convention at Moscone Center of the American Health Care Association, an organization of nursing home and residential-care facility operators. A Denver group that goes by the name ADAPT, an acronym for Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, plans to have 400 protesters at the convention, said Michael Auberger, its organizer and co-founder. ADAPT wants some of the federal money that goes to nursing homes and residential-care facilities to go for attendant care for disabled people who live on their own. “Over the years, we've used various tactics in different situations," Auberger said. “We're very confrontational, and we're going to make sure we get in their face." The Police Academy courses are being taught by Paul Imperiale, the mayor's disability coordinator. He said officers are learning how to search a -person they have arrested without harming the person. Police also are being warned that some protesters may have life-support devices that must be handled with care. Vans with special wheelchair lifts will be available to take away arrested demonstrators. - ADAPT (692)
Title: Deputies prepare for protesters by Christopher Quinn of the Sentinel Staff [This articles continues on 687 but the entire text of the article is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO [AP file photo]: A guy in an ADAPT T-shirt sits on the sidewalk in front of a set of glass doors. His knees are bent but together and his feet are out to each side. His mouth is slightly open and he is wearing a hat. Behind him, through the glass a group of security men are standing holding the door handles and conferring. Caption: A disabled activist sits outside a casino in Sparks, Nev., in an '89 protest. Orange deputies are studying videos of the event. Title: Disabled activists plan to disrupt a convention of nursing home operators. In city after city since 1983, wheelchair-riding activists have climbed from their chairs, dragged themselves along the ground, halted traffic and chained themselves to buildings. On Sunday they’re coming to Orlando. They intend to be arrested, and the Orange County Sheriffs Office plans to accommodate them. Deputies have spent the past month gathering information on how to handle the protesters. "This isn't a win situation. No one wants to arrest paraplegics,” Sheriff Walt Gallagher said Thursday. “But I have to enforce the law.” The activists are members of ADAPT (Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today) and they plan to disrupt a convention of nursing home operators. The members believe the federal government spends too much money on nursing homes and too little helping the disabled live at home. The protest is aimed at the American Health Care Association, which is holding its annual meeting Sunday through Thursday at the Orange County Convention and Civic Center. “We want to make life miserable for them," said Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic who cofounded the group and now fights nursing homes. Auberger said the group will try not to inconvenience anyone but convention delegates. He said the convention is a prime target for his group because it is the only place so many nursing home operators gather. The protesters want 25 percent of the federal money spent on nursing homes shifted to home care for the disabled. Law enforcement officials who have dealt with the protesters in other cities say the group's main goal is favorable television coverage. “They'd like nothing better than to have the local media take a picture of three or four big cops taking a guy to the ground.” said Bob Cowman, a lieutenant for the Sparks, Nev., police. Members of the group descended on Sparks, a city near Reno, in 1989. They were stymied, however, when police methodically stopped the activists from disrupting a convention. Sparks officers gently arrested anyone who broke the law. When members threw themselves to the ground and crawled across streets, hoping to be picked up and hauled off to jail, police just watched, frustrating the protesters. The Sparks methods for dealing with the group’s tactics have become the standard other agencies emulate. Orange deputies have spent hours watching videotapes of the Sparks protest. The tapes show legless protesters throwing themselves out of their wheelchairs and walking on their hands across streets. “Members have been known to throw their colostomy bags at the Police,” says a Sparks report on the protest. Auberger said that’s just not true. The Sparks convention and protest were smaller than what is expected in Orange County. The Sparks convention involved 500 delegates and around 100 protesters. The convention here will involve more than 3,000 delegates and more than 300 protesters. “We’re as prepared as we’re going to be,” said Sgt. Jon Swanson, head of sheriffs intelligence. Today a wheelchair-bound consultant will teach deputies how to arrest the disabled without hurting them or damaging the wheelchairs. Starting Sunday a riot squad will be at the convention center 24 hours a day. If the disabled protesters attempt to block traffic or center entrances, 120 deputies will be on hand to make arrests. The county will have to pay as much as $200,000 in overtime. “One hundred and twenty cops isn't going to do it," Auberger said. “That's not enough per person." The cost is in addition to whatever Orange jail chief Tom Allison spends housing arrested activists and tending to their medical needs. Allison said he’s ready to handle hundreds of prisoners in wheelchairs. Swanson and Allison said they hope any activists who get arrested stay in jail a few days. Bonds will be set at $500 for the misdemeanor charges the protesters usually face. Because the activists are from out of state, bail bond agents will be unlikely to help, said John Von Achen, president of the Tri-County Bonding Association. When members have been arrested and freed without bond in other cities, they have immediately returned to the protests to be arrested again. “We don't want to get into a scenario where we arrest them, release them, arrest them, release them, arrest them, release them,” Allison said. Auberger said there is another way: “Not to arrest any of us.” The headquarters hotel for the convention is the Peabody Orlando, across from the convention center, but some delegates are staying up the street at the Clarion Plaza Hotel. The protesters have reserved 90 rooms at the Clarion. The convention schedule calls for delegates to be in seminars at the convention center or in training at Walt Disney World on Sunday and Monday. Auberger said his group might stage a protest at Disney. On Tuesday morning, however, Red Cross president Elizabeth Dole will address the convention. Television weatherman Willard Scott will speak Wednesday. Swanson said the protesters might save their big protest for the speeches. Cowman, the Sparks lieutenant, said Orange deputies just need to expect the worst. “Some of them are basically professional protesters,” he said of the group’s members. But they are severely disabled, and Sparks officers repeatedly offered to help the activists. “You can’t help but feel sorry for these people," Cowman said. - 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.