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Почетна / Категорије / Ознака nursing homes 29
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Месечни попис
Датум израде / 2013 / Јул
- ADAPT (1)
[This continues on ADAPT 2 and 3, but the entire text has been included here in ADAPT 1 for easier reading.] [letterhead] Atlantis Community Inc 2965 west 11th avenue denver colo 80204 303 893 8040 [Headline] The Atlantis Story In June of 1975, Atlantis was born as an alternative to the lives that young disabled persons were being forced to endure in nursing homes and state institutions. Early in 1974, a group of concerned disabled people and able-bodied allies began educating themselves to the plight of the young disabled adult. They found that the majority of these young people (some as young as twelve) who were living in nursing homes were virtually trapped in a stagnating, paternalistic prison where civil rights were blatantly violated, medical care was poor and impersonal, and individual initiative and self actualization were hostilely discouraged. The group that later became Atlantis began looking for alternatives to the prejudiced, dehumanizing lives these young people were seemingly doomed to continue. The first attempt was to create a special youth program in a nursing home, the object of which was to provide normalizing educational and social experiences. The program was to a large degree successful in terms of individual liberation, but it soon became apparent that the humanistic goals of the Atlantis group were in direct conflict with the profit making motivation and paternalistic traditions of the nursing home industry. It was then that the Atlantis Early Action Project was conceived - early in 1975. The goals were clear: to allow every disabled individual, regardless of the extent of her/his disability, the same rights and responsibilities of their able bodied peers - the freedom to choose a lifestyle and fulfill personal goals in education, employment, and personal growth, and freedom from a punitive traditional system that stigmatizes the disabled and segregates them from the mainstream of society. The planning started in January of 1975. Public housing units were leased from the Denver Housing Authority in the Las Casitas Development. Funds from the Colorado Division of Vocational Rehabilitation were secured to renovate the apartments and make them accessible to wheelchairs. In June, the first eight residents moved in. All were former 'patients’ in nursing homes, all had the courage and the desire to live on the outside. In a little over two years, Atlantis has grown from eight residents and a volunteer staff to an attendant staff of forty individuals and forty participants/residents. Seventeen of the residents presently live in the Early Action site, which has become a transitional living center, the remainder live in private sector apartments throughout the city and receive services from Atlantis. Traditionally the young disabled person has been denied the right to an adequate education or meaningful employment and has been sent to nonaccredited, segregated ‘special’ schools or to sheltered workshops to count fish hooks or untangle old phone cords for five cents an hour. Those who reside in nursing homes are often provided with no programming at all. At Atlantis, we try to assist the individual in fulfilling whatever goals s/he outlines. At the present time, residents are attending Denver Opportunity School, Boettcher School, and several of the area colleges. In addition, a constitutional law suit has been initiated by an Atlantis resident in an attempt to change existing laws which deny equal educational opportunities to the disabled. With funds from the Denver Opportunity School, Atlantis operates an Adult Education Center which offers individualized courses in remedial basic skills, speech therapy, and Braille. In an employment and basic life enrichment program financed by the Colorado Division of Vocational Rehabilitation, Atlantis provides a variety of employment opportunities to disabled persons and seeks out employment possibilities in the Denver-Metro area. In keeping with the Atlantis Charter, fifty percent of all positions at Atlantis are occupied by disabled individuals. Our experience has shown that merely providing housing and attendant services does not fully equip the disabled person coming out of an institution to lead an independent, self-directed life. For this reason, special programs have been initiated to aid residents in acquiring the skills necessary to take responsibility for their own lives. Home Training Classes, where residents meet in seminars and share ideas and skills, are held to teach how to organize and maintain an apartment. A Consumer Advocate teaches residents how to perform their own consumer activities such as budgeting money, using a checking account, and buying food and clothing. Other advocacy services available include a twenty four hour a day Crisis Hotline, a Financial Coordinator who assists individuals in getting their public assistance benefits, a Housing Information Service, a Legal Advocacy Service, and a Counseling Referral Service. Disabled persons are not 'sick' people. They do not require a 24 hour a day medical staff of nurses and aides to supervise their personal needs and social activities. What is needed is a consistent source of reliable assistance when they want it. In an attempt to break the traditional concept of home health care - Atlantis hires a pool of professionals who are trained and supervised by a Rehabilitation R.N. Attendant assistance is scheduled as it fits into individual routines and responds to individualized needs. Emphasis in health care is on teaching people to monitor their own - to be aware of their particular needs and be capable of getting those needs filled either self—sufficiently or with assistance. Staff is available on a twenty four hour a day basis in case an emergency arises, and can be reached by a call to the Crisis Hotline. The resident is responsible for scheduling baths, meals, etc. There are no rules governing any individual's mobility or social life. We uphold the right of the disabled to take responsible control over their own lives. Disabled people do have special medical needs. Nurses, attendants and physicians who work with them should have this specialized knowledge. The Atlantis attendant staff is trained in areas of special health concern such as skin, bladder and bowel care, and routine medical needs. Atlantis makes full use of existing medical facilities, primarily the Denver General Health System. We are oriented toward rehabilitative activities and any person who has the desire for rehabilitation is given the opportunity to explore it. Many who were diagnosed at an early age as unrehabilitatable have shown tremendous progress when allowed access to therapists and equipment. It is our belief that any disabled person should have the right to choose where and how s/he wants to live. We believe that the same monies that are provided to house someone in an institution should be made available to those who wish to live independently. We are working to this end. At the present time, an institution in Colorado receives upwards of $600.00 a month in tax money to provide custodial care for a ‘patient’. That same person, once out of an institution, is eligible for maximum public assistance Payments of $402.00 a month to support her/himself and purchase attendant services. Many receive less than the full amount. We can find no valid justification for this huge discrepancy which results in the taxpayer supporting the highly lucrative nursing home industry and discourages the disabled and elderly from pursuing independent and meaningful lives. Our philosophy envelopes the ideas of individual liberty and opportunity, and we are aware of the process that must take place. Liberation from the stagnation of institutional life needs to be coupled with a viable process by which disabled persons can integrate themselves into society as self-fulfilled, independent citizens. It is our hope at Atlantis that by bringing disabled persons together, they can, through shared energy and experience, teach and support each other in achieving freedom and growth. - ADAPT (16)
The Denver Post - Sunday June 1, 1975 PHOTO by John Prieto: A woman (Linda Chism) sits in a wheelchair with her legs extended out in front of her and covered by a blanket. Her shoulders are covered by a jacket. She has a lap board on her chair and her purse/bag is resting on it. She is looking ahead. To her left sits a man (Glenn Kopp) in a wheelchair. He has longish hair, a goatee and is wearing glasses. He looks down slightly, as if listening. In the front bottom corner of the picture someone's arm is visible. Caption reads: Linda Chism and Glenn Kopp discuss Independent-Living Idea They are in living room of apartment at the Las Casitas complex. [Headline] Independence from Nursing Homes - Atlantis' Handicapped Move to New Life by Pat Afzal On the surface, this Sunday is just a moving day for eight Denver area young men and women. Underneath, however, the day emerges as a first, precious taste of freedom for them. They are severely handicapped and will move out of nursing homes Sunday into their own apartments and have a crack at independent living. Sunday will be, oh .... like Christmas,” says wheelchair-bound Glenn Kopp, co-executive director of the Atlantis Community, Inc. The group is leasing the apartments where the young adults will live. Linda Chism, Atlantis' treasurer-accountant, likens the moving experience to “a flower opening up. We don't know how it's going to work out for sure. Things will sort of evolve." Their excitement seems normal because they're helping others embark on a new experience. Then they begin to talk about why the independent-living idea got going. And their comments harden into strong indictments against the institutional way of life for the young handicapped. "You know about civil rights?," Kopp asks a reporter. "Well, a handicapped person in an institution has no civil rights." "That statement about race, creed and color - well, it doesn't apply to handicapped people. We're left out of it." Kopp, who was worked in a Denver area nursing home said that when residents there went against the rules, a punishment was to take their electric wheel chairs away. “That's (the chairs) your freedom, you’re movement. Without it, you can't get around." [Subheading] Rule Ridiculed He ridiculed a rule that said the handicapped had to be in bed by 9 p.m. “Why should a grown man have to go to bed at 9 o’clock?" he asks. “It's a so very dehumanizing way to live, to say the least,” Ms. Chism adds. “You’re without privacy. All your dignity is just gone. You're not recognized as a person. You're a patient and that's it.” Nursing homes "like a lot of young people around, tooling around in their wheel chairs,” Kopp says. “lt adds an air of something nicer than just a lot of people sitting around.” By the same token, there isn't a lot of willingness to give the young people the freedom they feel and need, Kopp says. Those who are “lucky enough to have a taste of living normally really get depressed. It can be a very sad thing." It was soon after Kopp stopped working for the nursing home in Denver that he and a friend — Wade Blank — decided that “there's gotta be a better way to live. There has to be some better options." They slowly began to attract verbal, but not much monetary, support for their idea and Atlantis Community, Inc., was born. Eventually the group wants to build a 140-unit apartment complex for the severely handicapped. Right now, however, their first project is the seven apartment units in Las Casitas complex on Denver's west side where the eight young people will be moving Sunday. The apartments are on the western edge of a larger apartment complex in the 1200 block of Federal Boulavard. Credit for helping to make Atlantis’ dream a reality goes to Dr. Henry A. Foley, state director of social services, and John Helm of the Denver Housing Authority, Kopp said. “We went in cold to Dr. Foley, and he got us $3,000 seed money to apply to a larger grant," Kopp said. The grant, from the Department of Vocational Rehabilitation, made possible almost $20,000 in renovations at the Las Casitas apartments. Helm told them about the apartment vacancies. The new tenants will live on welfare and social service payments, and visiting nurses and on-site attendants will help take care of their medical and personal needs. On July 1, six other tenants will move in. Those slated for the Sunday move are “frightened, understandably,” Ms. Chism says. “When you've lived in an nursing home much of your life, you’re naturally apprehensive about living on your own." She said police were worried about the safety of the tenants because the apartments are in a higher-crime area. “But they (police) don't realize that in an institution, you don’t own anything for very long because it’s stolen," Kopp said. [Headline] Meetings Encouraging Meetings with a tenant union at Las Casitas have been encouraging, he added, and residents already living there have welcomed the idea of their new neighbors. The problem now is for Atlantis Community to stay alive financially so other young handicapped adults also can experience the freedom of independent living. And there are immediate problems like finding things such as kitchen utensils, bed linen and furniture to make the Las Casitas like home. But optimism about the future is apparent. “When you think of how far we've come in a year," Ms. Chism says. “I'd say there's a lot more to come from Atlantis." - ADAPT (18)
Essay [Headline] Whaddya Know, Something Gets Done [Subheading] The Handicapped Get Some Hope On Thursday, February 27, the Colorado Department of Social Services announced the granting of $14,500 to a group of the disabled for the purpose of altering seven public housing units at the Las Casitas housing project in Denver in order to accommodate the handicapped. Aside from the official glee about cooperation between the federal, state and local governments, the exciting element in the story is the force which about such cooperation. The force which brought city, state and federal governments into the Social Services Building for the announcement of this project was a group of the physically handicapped operating under the name "Atlantis." The group has been in formation and operation for over two years. During that time it has requested, cajoled, picketed and threatened the aforementioned governments. The governments met these repeated approaches with concern and disclaimers. The change which brought about the new project is traceable to continued pressure by the Atlantis group and changes in elected officials within the last five months. The key which unlocked the final door was the approval of Henry Foley as director of Social Services for the state. Within one week, the position of the State Social Services Department went from obfuscation to cooperation. The change was brought about by the approval of Foley. The purpose of Atlantis was not suited to the outlook of the state bureaucracy. Atlantis is not merely building housing. The housing is viewed as a tool to achieve self-sufficiency and dignity in the lives of the disabled. By establishing the housing which will achieve a physical presence for the community, Atlantis is hopeful of bringing enough abilities and skills together to achieve a completely independent life style to their members. The history of the treatment of handicapped young adults has been one of miserable failure. Generally, a young adult with a disabling physical handicap has been sent to a nursing home. These institutions are conceived as warehouses for the infirm. This approach has served profitably in the care of the terminally ill and the elderly. But young adults with active minds do not respond favorably to being treated as sides of beef. It must be understood that young adults are basically as alive as a worker, black, chicano or woman. As these deprived members of society have fought to be considered as human beings. so now the disabled are asking for complete membership in the human race. So, when a young paraplegic in a nursing home gets fed up with his life, he feels it is his right to go out and hoist a few to fuzz over his dissatisfaction. Imagine the reactions of a nursing home which is used to treating its patients as inmates when one of its tenants comes wheeling into the lobby at 2:00 a.m. singing nautical chants at the top of his lungs. The nursing home tends to view such a patient as a troublemaker instead of a young adult who has had an experiment blow up in his face. The response is generally to clamp down on opportunities rather than delight in the humanity of the patient. Atlantis is on the road to assembling a program which will allow its members to expand to their capacity. ln order to accomplish this goal. they require extensive aid from the rest of us. The program at the Las Casitas project involves health care as furnished by the West Side Neighborhood Health Center, the buildings as furnished by the Denver Housing Authority, transportation as will hopefully be furnished by the Regional Transportation District (although this program has been an unqualified joke), remodeling as furnished through State Social Services and welfare moneys as provided by the feds and state government. The state and federal governments presently spend about $500 per month for housing each handicapped person in nursing homes. Preliminary estimates show that this new and experimental program at Las Casitas will cost in the neighborhood of $350 per month. Even if costs were the same, the value of giving hope and dignity to the disabled would certainly justify the expenditure. Anonymous The writer has long been a critic of care for the handicapped, but wishes to remain anonymous in this instance for business reasons. - ADAPT (19)
The Denver Post Tues. March 4, 1975 [Big Masthead: The Denver Post Founded on October 28, 1895 by F.G. Bonfils and H.H. Tammen Helen G. Bonfils, Officer and Director, 1933-72 "Dedicated in perpetuity to the service of the people, that no good cause shall lack a champion and that evil shall not thrive unopposed" Donald R Seawell, President, Chairman of the Board Charles R Buxton, Executive Vice President, Editor and Publisher Earl R Moore, Secretary-Treasurer William Hornby, Vice President, Executive Editor Robert H Shanahan, Vice President, General Manager] [Headline] The Post's Opinion [Subheading] A New Atlantis Is Born It didn't attract much attention. but the birth of the first phase of the Atlantis project is an event for rejoicing—as well as a warning for caution. A group of disabled persons in Denver, spurred to expectations of a better life by a new-found militancy, for some months now have been working to bring to to life a planned community in which handicapped persons could live a more normal life. This type of community, they hoped, would be free of confining nursing home atmospheres which so easily could make "vegetables" out of young patients without hope for anything more. Now, it has been announced, the first step toward that new independence has been successful. Within three months 14 disabled young persons will move from nursing homes into a cooperative apartment living situation in which they can receive the medical and supportive services they need in addition to the freedom they so desperately seek. The group will move into a renovated apartment complex called Las Casitas Homes at W. 11th Ave. and Federal Blvd. They will receive services and funding from a variety of sources. It is with a project such as this — perhaps unique in the nation — that disabled persons can find their level of dignity and productivity. For too long they have suffered through stereotyping which never realized their potential. However, the note of caution comes here: The participants in the program must be carefully screened so that those who take part can experience success in their new life styles; and those who are chosen must not reject the level of assistance that they still require in the headiness of their new freedom. If the commitment of all concerned is well established, the program should work and become a guiding light for other communities across the country. - ADAPT (20)
Denver Post, 1975 PHOTO. Denver Post photos by Ernie Leyba: A slim woman and man in a manual wheelchair are surrounded by laundry they are folding and stacking. They look over their shoulders as the man shakes hands with a man in a dark suit (Governor Lamm) who is talking with another standing man with longish blonde hair (Wade Blank). Caption reads: Gov. Dick Lamm, left,and Director Wade Blank visit laundry. Handicapped "hot line" has been set up in laundry, which is also office. [Headline] Lamm Tours Community of Handicaps By Patrick A. McGuire Denver Post Staff Writer Fourteen handicapped persons who once lived in nursing homes, but now enjoy a high degree of independence in their own community, welcomed Gov. Dick Lamm to their homes Tuesday for a special tour. Their home, the Atlantis Community, occupies seven apartments and a laundry room in a Denver Housing project at W. 11th and Federal Boulevard. With federal and state funds, the 14 residents and 12 staff aides have remodeled the apartments so that wheel chairs move freely through hallways and down ramps. With a state grant they have set up a handicapped “hot line” in the laundry room that doubles as an office. As many as 70 times daily, handicapped persons across the city and state call seeking information on services. Lamm encouraged Atlantis to seek state funds for the project through the Colorado Social Services Department. He went to the community Tuesday, ostensibly to see how state money was being used, but admitted in an interview that he had other reasons. “During my campaign," he said, “that whole walk across the state was very intense. It was a gimmick, too, I’ll be the first to admit that. “But I stayed at some places and saw some people like these. I was trying to sensitize myself. You know, it’s the easiest thing in the world to forget people like these.” He said he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget them. Lamm went from apartment to apartment with Wade Blank, Atlantis executive director, inspecting the homes and shaking hands with the delighted residents. For most of their lives, the residents have lived in nursing homes, depending on them for medical care and a social life. Barry Rosenberg, a member of the Atlantis board of directors, told Lamm, “So many handicapped are born with a sense of guilt, because they’re different. We’re trying to turn them around and give them some hope. Atlantis residents Blank said, draw on existing city services for medical care and social services.He estimated that it costs $225 a month less, per person, to live at Atlantis than in a nursing home. The city is planning to lower the curbing along the Atlantis boundary on Federal Boulevard, so the wheel-chaired residents easily can cross the street to stores and restaurants. Lamm praised the Atlantis staff as “dedicated people who are trying to make sure a few other fine human beings are cared for." - ADAPT (22)
Charismatic Figure Absent - The Denver Post - Friday, August 2, 1974 PHOTO Denver Post photo by Bill Peters: Two thin young men with longish hair wearing sleeveless shirts sit facing a desk in front of them. On the other side, an older man with glasses in shirt sleeves and a tie (Gov. Vanderhoof) faces the two and the camera. One of the guys in wheelchairs has a poster-sign on the back saying "The handicapped are people too! Support [unreadable] RALLY!!! [unreadable]. Caption reads: Gov. John Vanderhoof talks with Gary Van Lake and Vic Stifel. The two men were in group of handicapped persons who visited the governor Thursday. [Headline] Wheel-Chair Group Gets Capitol Sympathy by Rykken Johnson A group of handicapped persons in wheel chairs looking for a “charismatic” figure to champion their cause for better care didn't find one in the governor’s office Thursday. The group, called The Organization of Disabled Adults and Youth (TODAY), met with a shirtsleeved Gov. John Vanderhoof for about 40 minutes to discuss problems faced by handicapped individuals and ways to reduce the difficulties. TODAY asked Vanderhoof for his support in channeling more state funds to improve staff and facilities at nursing homes and institutions for physically, mentally and emotionally handicapped persons. [Subheading] SYMPATHETIC EAR The governor listened solemnly, said he sympathized, reported that the state has been making strides for handicapped persons and will continue to do so, thanked the group for coming and told its members to drive carefully on the way home. None of the wheel-chair visitors as much as smiled at the sendoff from the governor's office. Outside, a couple of them replied with a flat no to a question if they thought they had found a leader for their cause. The meeting with Vanderhoof concluded a two-day rally by about two dozen individuals in wheel chairs from Heritage House and other nursing homes. The rally took place in front of Services, 1575 Sherman St., and the State Capitol. The organization, through seven members who met with Vanderhoof, didn't help its efforts by tying its plea to the employees’ strike at the Colorado State Hospital in Pueblo. Vanderhoof and other state officials have been battling with the strikers and their union for more than a week over pay for the state hospital staff. Although the state gained a court injunction on grounds the strike is illegal, some hospital employees Friday were still observing the walkout. TODAY spokesman Vic Stiefel, 29, told Vanderhoof that TODAY backs the strikers because the organization feels staffing is inadequate and pay too low at state institutions and that state reimbursement through state-administered Medicaid is too skimpy for private nursing homes like Heritage House to be effective. But the governor couldn't make the connection between pay and reimbursements, saying the dispute in Pueblo is a budgetary consideration and the nursing home difficulty a welfare consideration. Furthermore, Vanderhoof said, the state has made a “tremendous movement” to overcome architectural barriers against disabled persons and also is trying to influence the federal government to loosen its guidelines on Medicaid. The governor continued that under his program to restructure state government he is trying to get the state to deal more effectively with problems of the handicapped. [Subheading] 'NOT FAR ENOUGH’ Vanderhoof said the state "has come a long way over the last 8-10 years, but we haven't come far enough or fast enough". He said he would "pledge himself to problems of the handicapped. “We are moving in the proper direction but it's not going to happen overnight", he added. Later, in the governor‘s office, Wade Blank, a Heritage House employee who accompanied the disabled individuals said TODAY members were enthusiastic about chances that Vanderhoof will support “a good medical program." Blank disagreed that pay at institutions and reimbursements at nursing homes aren't connected, as Vanderhoof contended. "No matter what he says,” Wade said, “the state sets the reimbursement rate for the money a home gets.” He said one of the major problems at homes is that staff pay is low, that it doesn't go up very fast and that aides "burn out” in a few months and leave. - ADAPT (26)
[Headline] Plan Drawn For 14 With Handicaps A workshop to discuss a proposal to move 14 severely handicapped adults from nursing homes to their own apartments will be sponsored by the Atlantis Community, Inc., at 1:30 pm, Wednesday, April 9 in room 807 at 1575 Sherman St. Host at the workshop will be Dr. Henry A. Foley, director of the State Department of Social Services which is monitoring Atlantis’ early-action program with the Denver Department of Health and Hospitals and the Denver Housing Authority. The workshop will focus on the specific roles and relationships of governmental and private agencies in meeting the needs of the seriously disabled. Atlantis Community, Inc., is a nonprofit organization working to create an independent-living facility in the Denver area for the severely handicapped. - ADAPT (28)
[Headline] Alter Nursing Home Rules Colorado legislators came face to face recently with what many observers consider one of the major concerns in the nursing home field: the need for some individualization of treatment groups within facilities. Residents of the youth wing at Heritage House, 5301 W. 1st Ave., told lawmakers that for many months they had been encouraged to make remarkable progress toward self determination and varying degrees of independence. But late in 1974 the situation deteriorated into custodial and repressive care, resulting in deep bitterness between staff and patients and loss of self confidence by the patients, they said. At first, the problem seemed to revolve around personalities of two former youth wing coordinators and whether one could communicate more effectively with administrators than the other. But it developed during the hearing that there were indeed some apparent moves by administrators to intimidate staff members who had provided transportation to the hearing for several disabled young persons and their beds and wheelchairs. During an angry and tearful exchange, legislators learned that officials at the nursing home had “withheld” the time cards of staff members who, when off duty, had transported the young residents to the hearing. Those officials received a stern warning from Rep. Wellington Webb, D-Denver, chairman of the House Committee on Health, Environment, Welfare and Institutions, that their attitude was unacceptable and would be dealt with. Beyond the immediate clash at Heritage House, a deeper problem more reflective of the problem throughout the nursing home industry arose. Administrator Tom O'Hallaran explained the home is required to meet rigid federal and state standards that don’t take youth wings into account. One official suggested that the youth wing be reclassified to fit into a different regulatory category. But neither does that category address specifically programs for young persons. The biggest villains are the state social services department and state legislators, who together decide how much money young and old persons need for nursing home care, suggested Sandy Anderson, a welfare caseworker in Jefferson County. In a strongly worded appeal, she said geriatric staffing patterns and programs aren't adequate in a youth wing and per diem funding isn't sufficient. Miss Anderson’s point was the crucial one of the day. Different types of patients with differing needs shouldn't be mixed, yet that is the prevailing practice. A visit to almost any nursing home will find young and old, mental patients and senile retirees, able and disabled, and those needing custodial care and those who are bedridden mixed indiscriminately. The result is misery for patients and inefficient services from the nursing home staff. While it is obvious that officials at Heritage House have attitudinal problems to work out, it is also clear that the larger problem needs to be seriously addressed by the legislature. Colorado lawmakers should make sure that state rules are changed to allow differential treatment and should take their concerns to officials in Washington who administer federal funding and regulation systems. The change must occur all the way to the highest level of regulation. - ADAPT (37)
The Denver Post August 29, 1976 PHOTO: A woman (Carolyn Finell) sits in her wheelchair turned sideways, relaxed, facing the camera. Her arm is slung over the backrest, and she is beaming. New Key Fulfills Residents' Dreams (continued from page 36) and the other four Atlantis residents to go out on their own without state support for a proposal advanced by Atlantis. That proposal was presented in June to Henry A. Foley, director of the Colorado Social Services Department. Foley's response was enthusiastic according to Wade Blank and Glen Kopp, co-directors at Atlantis. And as a result, Foley set up a pilot project which will go until the end of 1977. Simply stated, the project involves Atlantis'creation of an expanded staff of attendants to provide necessary services to the disabled in their apartments and homes as well as at Atlantis. And the state medicaid fund will pick up the difference between government cost for attendant services and the amount of funds that actually are expended to provide the disabled with necessary care as certified by a physician. Blank explained that the government pays an average of $575 monthly for a severely disabled young adult living in a nursing home. If the disabled person moves into his own apartment he receives $186?[text is blury] monthly from various governmental sources to pay for his rent, food, telephone and personal needs. And a county social services department may provide an additional $40 to $217 monthly to the disabled person for attendant services. But quite often, Blank said, even the maximum of $217 monthly doesn't cover the attendant services needed. And qualified attendants may not always be available, he noted. The cooperative program between Atlantis and the state might remedy those shortcomings and might cut government expenditures for the disabled substantially, Blank said. If the program is successful, Blank said, it could be expanded statewide for the disabled. Eventually, he added, the program might be extended to the state's elderly persons to keep them in their own homes and apartments, rather than placing them in a facility outside the home. Equally elated over the program is Mary Joyce, who is Jeannie's mother. Mrs. Joyce and her husband, Joseph, came to Denver last week from their home in Scarborough, Maine and were with Jeannie when she first viewed her apartment. “It's a pretty wonderful step" Mrs. Joyce said as she watched her daughter move in her wheelchair through the apartment. "We can't believe the strides she'd made in the last two years with her determination to live on her own and take care of herself." To two other Atlantis residents, George Roberts and Don Clubb, the move to their own apartment is "a pretty big change." Born with cerebral palsy, George, now 28, was left as an infant at the door of an adoption agency in southern Colorado. George then was placed in a state home and training school where he remained for 21 years - a period he describes as "all my life." He also spent more than four years in a nursing home before being accepted at Atlantis in June 1975. Don, who soon will be 20, lost both legs as the result of a slide down a mountainside when he was six years old. For about 10 years, Don was in state home and training schools. And for the past five years, he has been in a nursing home. He, too, is confined to a wheelchair. Last week, as George and Don viewed the apartment they will share in north Denver, they seemed to invest the nearly empty rooms with an almost magical air. "It's wonderful," George said over and over. Carefully, he moved his wheelchair up to the electric stove and inspected the oven. In the bedroom, he was jubilent as he examined the heating and air-conditioning controls. And almost reverently, he opened and closed the sliding doors of a large bedroom closed. Don spoke quietly but with no less enthusiasm. "It's a very nice place - the first place of my own," he said. He smiled in the direction of the outdoor pool and said he swam very well and would teach George. Also preparing to move into an apartment they will share in south Denver are two other Atlantis residents, Carolyn Finnell, 33 and Nancy Anderson, 31. When she was 21, Nancy underwent surgery for removal of a brain tumor. For the next nine years, Nancy just sat in Denver area nursing homes unable to talk or walk, her body partially paralyzed. At that time, doctors said Nancy would be confined to nursing homes for the rest of her life and would never walk again. But since moving to Atlantis last summer, Nancy has been striving diligently in therapy sessions at Denver General Hospital. Working through the pain and the fatigue, she has learned to walk for up to 300 yards with the aid of a walker. And she has expanded her vocabulary to almost 10 words and is using a word machine in the new process of learning others. For Carolyn Finnell, who was born with cerebral palsy, there has been no easy or direct road to independent living. After finishing the ninth grade, Carolyn wasn't particularly encouraged to continue. But she was convinced and convinced others, that she was capable of further education. She obtained her GED, or general equivalency diploma, which is equivalent to a high school diploma. And she earned a degree in journalism at Metropolitan State College. But then there were the leaden days - four years in nursing homes "which didn't work out." Afterward, Carolyn came to Atlantis and her hope was reborn. Now, Carolyn is working in the Atlantis planning office and preparing plans for the education of the disabled. In her quarters at Atlantis last week, Carolyn said it was painful to leave so many behind when she left the nursing home. "But as we move out of Atlantis, it will make it possible for others to move in - and they never thought that was possible," she added. Looking to the future, Carolyn said she would like to return to school to obtain training so that she can tutor disabled persons who have never had an education. "There's a whole generation of disabled people who have been denied an education," she said. Carolyn stressed that she wasn't going to "wage a war against nursing homes I'm willing to live and let live." But she obviously was emotionally affected as she said, "I never realized until I got out of a nursing home that for a young person, it's a living death: You really have nothing to live for...nothing to do but just sit. Many disabled persons, Carolyn noted, attend Opportunity School and Boettcher School in Denver. "But I know for myself," she said, "I didn't have any faith in my ability to work." "But I've been involved in Atlantis planning," she said as a smile swept across her face and she threw out her arms, embracing the air. "I've gained faith in my ability and I'm started to get ambitious." Her next words came slowly, with triumphal emphasis: "I....just....feel....alive!" - ADAPT (39)
The Sunday Denver Post, Feb. 29, 1976 PHOTO (Denver Post photo): A woman (Nancy Anderson) in a striped shirt, baggy pants and glasses smiles radiantly as she stands, slightly crouching, in a metal walker type device. Beside her another woman in white coat and dark clothes stands and steadies Nancy. Caption reads: Nancy Anderson struggles to walk with aid of platform [text is cut off]. Jennifer Forry helps in physical therapy section of Denver General. [Headline] 10 Prime Years Lost [Subheading] Nancy Steps Onto Road Back by Fred Gillies [this story continues in ADAPT 40, but the entire story is included here for easier reading.] Nancy Anderson is on the long road back toward reclaiming 10 lost years. For Nancy, as for most persons, these should have been the prime years-the time between her 21st and 31st birthdays. But during this time, Nancy "just sat“ in Denver-area nursing homes, unable to talk or walk, her body partially paralyzed after surgery to remove a brain tumor. At the nursing homes, Nancy received little or no therapy. And through disuse, the muscles of her hips and knees contracted, or shortened. In one of these homes, where Nancy stayed for almost nine years, she generally was the only young person in the midst of residents mainly in their 60's or older. At the time, doctors viewed Nancy‘s case bleakly, saying she would be confined to nursing homes for the rest of her life and would never walk again. But last week, Nancy cried out in pain and exultation as she took about 15 steps with the aid of a specially equipped platform walking device. And she has started talking — although she speaks only two words so far: "fine" and "no." This is a marked contrast to the baby sounds and squealing noises that were Nancy's only form of communication for about 10 years. "Nancy is the most determined patient I've ever seen," said Jennifer Forry, a physical therapist who has been assisting Nancy in therapy sessions at Denver General Hospital since last September. Nancy stared using the walker last October. But before Christmas, she underwent surgery to loosen muscles in her paralyzed right hip. Now she is learning to use the walker all over again. The turning point for Nancy, now 31, came last July when she was accepted as a resident at Denver's Atlantis Community, an experiment in apartment living for the handicapped. At Atlantis, the handicapped are encouraged to live as normal a life as possible and to work toward realizing their potential. For Nancy, this opportunity came when Atlantis workers asked her what she wanted to do most. Through repeated tapping of her leg, Nancy indicated she wanted to stand and walk. Soon afterward, Atlantis workers arranged the therapy sessions for her at the hospital. "When I first saw Nancy last September," Miss Forry said, "I thought there is no way for her to walk-her muscles had been contracted for so long. "But Nancy was so determined that I promised her we would have therapy sessions for a month and see if there was any progress. At those therapy sessions, Miss Forry said, "I stretched and pulled Nancy's legs and she screamed. After about a month, I felt we weren‘t doing much." But at one of those sessions, Nancy pushed herself over to the parallel bars. Using the bars and Miss Forry to steady herself, Nancy "hopped along" a short length between the bars. At about this time, a private physician said walking “was not a realistic goal" to set tor Nancy. However, in mid-October, Miss Forry started Nancy on the platform walker. The device has been specially equipped with an extension on which Nancy can rest her paralyzed right arm, using her good left arm to lift the walker. By early December, Nancy was walking for more than 250 feet with the aid of the platform walker. Last Dec. 15, surgery was successfully performed to relieve the contracture in Nancy's right hip. For the following six weeks. Nancy was in a half-body cast and "she had a lot of pain" when she recently returned to therapy. Early last week, Nancy walked with the platform Walker for the first time since the surgery. "She's still weak and trying to get some of her strength back," Miss Furry said, noting that Nancy took only about 15 steps. Seeing Nancy use the walker is rewarding. Miss Furry said, because several years ago a physical therapy department at another hospital said Nancy couldn't walk again—even with a walker. Back in her apartment at Atlantis, Nancy moves around easily in her wheelchair. For visitors, Nancy sometimes brings out the yearbook she helped edit for her 1962 graduating class at the small Cotton, Minn. High School. Paging through the yearbook, Nancy points out her photograph among those of her 24 classmates. And Nancy stops at the page bearing the school’s motto, and the fingers of her good right hand rest for a moment under the printed words: “Climb far—your goal the sky, your aim a star.“ - ADAPT (40)
The Sunday Denver Post, Feb. 29 1976 The first article on this page is a continuation of the story in ADAPT 39. The entire story is included there for easier reading. Second Article Headline: Nursing Homes Depressing [Subheading] At Atlantis Quadriplegic Finds 'His Peace' by Fred Gillies He's paralyzed from the neck down, and a machine breathes for him. And generally he‘s confined to a bed or a wheelchair. Yet John Folks, 20, smiled warmly last week as he spoke of his new home at the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in southwest Denver. “Atlantis is freedom.“ John said with firm conviction as he lay in bed in his apartment at Atlantis. While John spoke, a steady clicking and sighing came from the respirator which has been his constant companion since he was shot in the back of the neck four years ago by an unknown assailant. The bullet severed the spine, resulting in paralysis of most of John's body. With evident displeasure, John recalled his more than three years in nursing homes. "At one of these homes," he said, "he was the only young person among all the elderly residents." "There was no one to talk to - I just watched TV,” John said. "It was really bad. . depressing. . ."But at Atlantis. I feel different. This is the type of people I feel good with." Atlantis, which has been in operation since last June at 2965 W. 11th Ave. came into being at the right time for John. Atlantis officials say John was turned down by 25 nursing homes before he decided to apply at Atlantis and was accepted three weeks ago. "It‘s hard to find a nursing home that will take a person with a breathing machine—it‘s too much care,“ John explained. And nursing homes, John said, don't look too kindly on a young person who wants to enjoy the normal things such as rock music, a beer when he feels like it and conversations with friends at late hours. When John is not confined to bed as he has been recently with the flu, he moves around in his specially equipped wheelchair which he steers with his chin. The wheelchair has a portable, battery-operated respirator which John must use most of the time. John shares his Atlantis apartment with another handicapped person. But he says he now has another prized freedom: he can be alone in his room from time to time. "This is your place. and no one else's." John said with a quiet fervor in his voice. - ADAPT (41)
Rocky Mountain News Sunday March 27, 1977 Disabled are limited by society's attitudes By Alan Cunningham PHOTO by John Gordon, News: A young man (Larry Ruiz) sits in a wheelchair in front of a building. The shot shows his whole body and wheelchair and is looking up at Larry's smiling face. (For those who knew Larry, it's a classic Larry smile.) Caption reads: Larry Ruiz is one of those leading better lives of the Atlantis community. Nobody seems to know exactly how many disabled Americans there are - or even how one should define them. In Colorado, the figures are even more sketchy than they are nationally. But one estimate, based on federal statistics, suggests there may be as many as 350,000 disabled citizens in this state. If true, that would mean that 14 percent of the population suffers from some disability. The same projection indicates that as many as 83,000 of these persons as unable to work, keep house or go to school. Gov. Dick Lamm sometimes uses a more conservative figure of 10 percent. But even if that is closer to the truth, it shows that the plight of the disabled is a major problem. It also offers a clue as to why the disabled seem sure to emerge soon as the country's newest civil rights lobby. The have the numbers to make themselves heard - and seen - if they can begin to speak out with a unified voice, demanding their fair share of the American Pie. Until now, they've suffered the fate of most minority groups: invisibility. This is ironic, since most are highly visible if anyone chooses to see them. But for many reasons - not the least a sense of guilt - the able-bodied tend to turn away from those with crutches, wheelchairs and seeing eye dogs. And those who plan public facilities and services often reflect this attitude. It is politically safe for them to ignore the needs of the disabled pretending such persons make up a tiny fraction of the population and thus don't deserve a major share of attention. A myth to be sure. But it is only one of several myths which the Atlantis community, a group home for handicapped persons, in a minority report to the upcoming White House Conference on Handicapped individuals, hopes to destroy. For instance, there is the idea that nursing homes are primarily heavens for the aged and the infirm. The opposite side of that assumption is set forth in the opening chapter of the Atlantis report. Few realize that our nation's institutions also house a great many disabled young persons, some in their early teens. THESE ARE THE victims of our society's response to children and young adults who have muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, birth defects, blindness, and neurological disorders, or have survived accidents of varying kinds. But they are there by the thousands, many simply because they were labeled by physicians and psychologists as "retarded" and unable to function normally. It is difficult to imagine a more stifling or inappropriate atmosphere for a young person. It is inhumane to shackle and imprison youthful energy and curiosity into the nursing home routine. Such repressive living leads to anger, hostility and finally to the withdrawal and waste of a battered ego. As the report goes on to explain, the Atlantis group has fought to get more than 30 young men and women out of nursing homes and institutions so as to demonstrate that they can reverse this pattern if given a chance. But, even as it begins to reverse, new problems emerge. Most have to do with obstacles which the world has placed in the way of the disabled person. Again, it has a lot do with society's tendency to act as if he doesn't exist. Funds for rehabilitation programs, both public and private, are so scarce that only a small fraction of the disabled ever benefit from them. A prime example of this comes from State Rehabilitation Director Glenn Crawford, who says his division has determined that 135,000 persons in Colorado are potentially eligible for its services. Yet, in 1976, the division served about 14,300 persons. The figure will inch its way up to 16,000 this year. Such private facilities as the widely acclaimed Craig Hospital also have finite resources. They apply guidelines to decide which applicants will be accepted and which won't. Needless to say, a lawyer whose only disability is the loss of his legs has a better chance than a 19-year-old with no schooling who has lain on his back for most of his life. Funds and facilities for handicapped scarce Those who don't get the help often wind up in the category that Wade Blank of Atlantis refers to as "the losers." He contends that those who work with the disabled have too quickly given up on this group of people consigning them to lives of hopelessness. And he further argues that the implications of this have narrowed opportunities not only for the severely disabled, but for many others with less serious problems. For even those who have escaped the awful label of the "loser" run into obstacles every day. The Atlantis report focuses on many of these obstacles. These are some of the observations: EDUCATION. Many disabled youngsters in the past have failed to get adequate schooling either because they were in institutions or because their families assumed they would never be able to lead normal lives as adults and consequently didn't need to be trained for careers. Even those who went to school often were sidelined into special programs for the handicapped. While academic standards were high in such programs, the students were poorly prepared either intellectually or emotionally, to get along in a world of able-bodied persons. The recommended solution, "mainstreaming"- that is, letting disabled youngsters and adults go to school in the same classroom with everyone else. MONEY. The complexities of the various welfare programs on the county, state and federal level often conspire to keep disabled persons in nursing homes. Counties often find they have to pay more money if a man or woman is living in his own apartments, or in a facility, such as Atlantis, than they do if he or she is in a nursing home. That's because the federal government pays the bulk of the nursing home fee. Likewise, assistance payments are cut off if a disabled person earns more than a pittance in a month's time. The cutoff can be as low as $65. The "maximum level of income"from federal state and county assistance payments is $185. This means many disabled persons are living below the poverty level as it has been defined for other underprivileged groups. The solution as viewed by those who put together the Atlantis report, is to simplify and integrate the complicated payments system. But even more important, to increase payments so that everyone gets the same amount of money whether he is in an institution or out. TRANSPORTATION. The report talks about a number of things here including electric wheelchairs and curb cuts, but is main statement under this heading is that bus systems such as the Regional Transportation District (RTD) should become fully accessible to the disabled. RTD, it contends, has been unresponsive to the needs of disabled would be riders for transportation to work, school and for pleasure trips. Even the special HandiRide service - which RTD often boasts is a frontrunner in the nation - is given poor marks. LAWS. [not legible...] Colorado concerning the disabled in general and the severely physically disabled in particular, the report states. Furthermore, it is not realistic to think that the disabled will get effective legislation passed without having government officials sensitized to the disabled's problems. This may already be changing. Largely due to lobbying by Atlantis, hearings were underway in the General Assembly this week on two bills aimed at helping the disabled. One, a Senate bill now in committee, would allow more Coloradans to receive payments so they could hire home attendants. The other, a House bill, is a "civil rights bill for the handicapped." It would bar discrimination against the disabled. Backers of the latter bill point out that it's needed because the federal civil rights laws, while dealing with the rights of racial minorities and women, have never guaranteed these same rights to disabled citizens. Idealy, says the Atlantis report, Congress and the state legislatures need to weed out laws which are confusing and contradictory, often creating "disincentives"for the disabled to pursue more normal lives. A wholistic approach is needed. JOBS. Virtually every problem mentioned above, plus all the others catalogued in the report, tend to stand in the way of the disabled person who seriously wants to go to work in spite of the lip service paid to the slogan, "Hire the handicapped," many find the doors still closed. The reasons are many and the problems complex. Lack of schooling is a factor. Some disabled persons have languished in sheltered workshops, counting fish hooks and getting paid $10 a month for it, the report says. Others have an education but find that architectural barriers, or the lack of adequate bus service, keep them from getting to jobs they could perform. And attitudes often stand in the way when physical barriers are moved aside. "Perhaps the greatest barrier of all is in the minds of men," the report notes. It advocates more and better training programs, plus affirmative action plans to assure that larger numbers of disabled workers are hired by public and private employers. In an elaborate ceremony several weeks ago, the Atlantis report was presented to Mayor Bill McNichols. But privately some of those connected with the report conceded they didn't expect to see much action on the local level until public policies in Washington and throughout the nation begin to change significantly. That's why the Atlantis group is placing much emphasis on its efforts to make an impression on the Carter administration during its formative period. The time seems ripe for a coalition of disabled groups around the country to launch a concerted civil rights drive on behalf of their "invisible" constituents. And the first test may come April 5, when many groups have threatened to stage a sit-in at offices of the Department of Health Education and Welfare, including the regional office in Denver, if new HEW Secretary Joseph Califano hasn't issued new regulations to implement laws for the disabled. "The disabled have been ignored far too long in this society," declares the Atlantis report. "We are demanding that our rights be addressed. We are giving you, the policy makers, our findings and recommendations on how to solve the inequities in the system. "The next is yours." Such words, when voiced by other groups, have inevitably been followed by major social changes. It seems likely the same pattern will apply here. PHOTO by John Gordon, News: A man lies in a hospital bed, covered by sheets. Photo is very dark and hard to make out. Caption reads: Shooting victim [unreadable] from nursing home [unreadable] he said [unreadable] has been paralyzed since [unreadable]. - ADAPT (51)
The Denver Post - Sat April 30, 1977 PHOTO by Dave Buresh: A fancy room inside the Colorado capitol building with Greek columns and ornately carved doors, is filled with protesters. Several are carry signs: "More job opportunities for the handicapped" and "End discrimination for handicapped." A blind African American man with a an afro, a fancy dashiki type jacket and pendant speaks into a microphone as an older white man in shirt sleeves and a necktie holds a paper in his hand. A woman standing between them looks down at the paper. Caption reads: Handicapped Demonstrate Outside of Joint Budget Committee Offices. At microphone is Don Galloway, with State Rep. Morgan Smith, center and Janet Anderson in middle. [Headline] Handicapped Rejoice at Rights Success by Jim Kirksey Flushed with the success of helping secure enactment of a “Bill of Rights" for the handicapped on Thursday, more than 200 handicapped and disabled Coloradans celebrated and demonstrated Friday at the State Capitol. A new set of regulations that puts into effect a 1973 law was signed Thursday by Joseph Califano secretary or the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW). Its enactment was credited to the efforts of handicapped persons across the country, and especially to a nationwide demonstration by the handicapped three weeks ago. The law extends civil rights to the handicapped those civil rights guarantee already granted to ethnic minorities and women. THE FESTIVE CROWD gathered on the west steps of the Capitol about 10:30 a.m. to hear a number of speakers congratulate them on their success and to caution them about the future. The gathering - many people in wheelchairs, some on crutches, others with white canes or guide dogs - were told they were responsible for the victory, but were cautioned that it "it is only a beginning." not legible ...the HEW regulations would become a reality only if they are pursued, and the crowd was urged to remain united in the future for that effort. THE SPEAKERS included Don Galloway, executive director of the Governors Advisory Council on the Handicapped; Janet Anderson, administrative assistant to the council; Lt. Gov. George Brown; Wade Blank, codirector of Denver's Atlantis Community; Ingo Antonitsch, executive director of the Denver Commission on the Disabled; Diane McGeorge, president of the National Federation for the Blind of Colorado; and Ludwig Rothbein, of the Colorado Developmental Disability Council. After approximately an hour, the crowd moved inside the Capitol and presented legislators with a list urging them to: -- Promote the "deinstitutionalization" of the disabled with increased state supplemental income payments and home care attendants fees. -- Require school districts to integrate disabled students into their classrooms. -- Legislate removal of architectural barriers. -- Limit the growth of the nursing home industry as the wrong answer to problems of the disabled and handicapped. -- Investigate the nursing home industry and state institutions and prosecute cases of abuse and violations of civil rights. -- Expand affirmative action programs to include the disabled. -- Appropriate $188,000 to restore to Denver General Hospital monies for services to the mentally ill. -- Create a permanent advisory council on the disabled with the funding and power to “make effective changes." -- Establish accessible polling places for the disabled. THE GROUP stood outside the third floor office of the legislature's Joint Budget Committee and chanted, "We want to see the JBC.” State Sen. Ted Strickland, R-Westminister, chairman of the JBC, State Reps Belly Neale, R-Denver, Morgan Smith, D-Brighton, both JBC members and Robert Eckelberry consulted with the gathering for 300 minutes. Strickland, who met with them for about 20 minutes, addressed each of the listed demands by telling of action already taken and assuring them that the JBC hearings in next year's budget would be held in facilities where the disabled and handicapped could take part. Neale said the JBC “does have the best interests of the handicapped at heart," and Smith assured them that he would circulate their demands throughout the legislature. - ADAPT (52)
Rocky Mountain News, Wed., April 6, 1977, Denver, Colo. PHOTO by John Gordon: A large crowd of protesters, many in wheelchairs, are gathered outside a building. All are facing the building and a couple carry signs. Caption reads: Wheelchair demonstrators gather at noon Tuesday in front of federal courthouse. [Headline] Disabled protest lack of HEW action By Alan Cunningham Chanting slogans and carrying picket signs attached to crutches, more than 100 disabled persons staged a protest march and sit-in Tuesday at the federal office building in downtown Denver. Their sit-in was expected to last all night outside the regional office of the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW) It was part of a nationwide protest aimed at forcing HEW Secretary Joseph Califano to sign regulations implementing a "handicapped bill of rights" passed by Congress nearly four years ago. The demonstration was peaceful, for the most part, but was marred by one incident in which a parking lot manager across the street from the federal complex allegedly assaulted demonstrator Dennis Wilcox, a quadraplegic, causing him to fall out of his wheelchair. Wilcox apparently was unhurt. The manager, James C. Chidlaw, insisted the encounter occurred accidentally as he attempted to guide stalled motorists through his lot. But, on complaints by Wilcox and another demonstrator, Chidlaw was cited into county court to face two charges of assault. Simultaneous demonstrations too part at HEW headquarters in Washington and at regional offices in Denver and eight other cities. They brought forth an assurance from Califano that he would sign the regulations “early in May," but Denver demonstrators — part of a nationwide coalition which had demanded he sign by Monday - were unimpressed. In speeches outside the federal courthouse at noon Tuesday, they declared they wanted to see immediate action by HEW, followed by an aggressive program to carry out various facets of the four-year-old law. At issue is Section 504 of the Federal Rehabilitation Act of 1973, which had never been put into effect. Handicapped groups have fought with HEW secretaries under Presidents Nixon, Ford and now Carter to force them to sign regulations which would implement the act. A federal judge ordered last year that such regulations be signed, but the matter still went unresolved. The law when it takes effect, will guarantee many of the same rights to handicapped Americans which were extended to racial minorities and to women under prior legislation of the last two decades. Its provisions are expected to force public school districts to open many more of their classrooms to wheelchair-bound students, to force employers to grant equal pay to handicapped employees and to provide more stringent civil rights guarantees to those in nursing homes and institutions. The protests brought assurances from several elected officials that they were trying to persuade President Carter to speed up action on the matter. Messages to this effect came from Gov.Lamm and U.S. Sen. Floyd Haskell, D-Colo. In addition, a Washington aide to Rep. Pat Schroeder, D-Colo., told the News late Tuesday that she was drafting a telegram asking that Carter order Califano to act. Other protests took place at HEW regional offices in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Chicago, Dallas, Seattle and San Francisco. Among the leaders of the Denver gathering were Ingo Antonisch, executive director of the Mayor's Commission on the Disabled, and Don Galloway, the new executive director of the Governor's Advisory Council on the Handicapped. Even Antonisch, an Austrian-born man with a stiff German accent and a generally conservative approach, was drawn into the militancy of the event. After acting HEW regional director Ed Lapidas read Califano's "early in May" statement, Antonisch stepped to the microphone and said, "Thank you very much," which inspired a woman in the crowd to yell, "We don't thank him very much, Ingo!" Antonisch got in the spirit by declaring, "I would like to say we hear the message but we want to see the action." Galloway, a black man who has been blind since he was 16, stirred up the crowd with a brief speech reminiscent of earlier civil rights campaigns. Taking his cues, they responded with lusty cries of “Right on" Even many who had difficulty speaking loudly and clearly joined in as best they could. At one point, Lyle Peterson, master of ceremonies at the noon rally, tried to lead the crowd in a chorus of "We Shall Overcome," traditional anthem of the black civil rights movement. The song proceeded weakly for a few seconds, but died when one protestor interrupted, shouting: "We want our rights!" Immediately, the crowd picked up his line and began to chant "We want our rights!" with an enthusiasm that had been lacking in the aborted attempt to sing. BOXED TEXT: We hear the message but we want to see the action. -- Ingo Antonisch - ADAPT (223)
MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way.