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Heim / Albúm / Merki Atlantis Community 64
- ADAPT (80)
Rocky Mountain News [Headline] RTD board stalls action on bus lifts By JERRY Brown News Staff Photo by Jose R. Lopez, News: A man sits in a manual wheelchair with a somewhat disgusted look on his face. He is wearing glasses, has a goatee type beard and a powerful looking body, in that CP, non-body builder way. He holds a coat in his lap. Caption reads: Leroy Duran speaks at RTD hearing on the subject of wheelchair lifts for 89 articulated buses. He was one of more than 20 people, many of them handicapped, urging RTD board members to reverse a decision not to buy the lifts. The Regional Transportation District board of directors made no decision after spending three hours Tuesday listening to appeals from the handicapped community that the directors reverse a decision not to put wheelchair lifts on 89 articulated buses scheduled for delivery in 1983. With only ll of the 20 members present for the special meeting, the directors postponed action on a compromise proposal to put lifts on 45 of the high-capacity articulated buses until its regular monthly meeting on Dec. 17. Eleven affirmative votes are required for any board action, so it would have required a unanimous vote of those attending Tuesday’s session to reverse or amend the board's Nov. 19 decision not to buy the wheelchair lifts. Most of the board members at the meeting also attended a secret two-hour staff briefing on the issue before the public session. L.A. Kimball, RTD executive director, said public notice of the board briefing wasn't necessary because it wasn't a formal board meeting. At the public meeting, more than 20 speakers urged board members to reverse their decision not to buy the lifts. Attomey John R. Holland, who represented the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in an earlier lawsuit against RTD, said the decision not to put lifts on the articulated buses violates a 1979 negotiated court settlement under which Atlantis agreed to drop a lawsuit against the agency on the accessibility issue. Gregory D. Jones, RTD's legal counsel, disagreed. In that agreement, RTD promised to make its fleet accessible to the handicapped “through a program of accessible new bus purchases and the wheelchair-lift retrofit of existing buses susceptible to retrofit." In a separate policy statement, the board members promised to make half of RTD's peak-hour service accessible to the handicapped — a policy that some board members have suggested should be rescinded. Even without lifts on the articulated buses, Kimball said, RTD will meet the commitment to make half of its.peak-hour service accessible to the handicapped. RTD has [846? the number is very difficult to read] lift equipped buses in its [646? unclear] bus fleet, but only 60 of the lift-equipped buses are used for wheelchair-accessible service. Kimball promised that the lifts on the remaining 286 buses would be operating by next summer. The buses first must be equipped with wheelchair restraints, RTD officials have said. Holland also said RTD may be required by state civil rights legislation to make the articulated buses accessible to the handicapped. Members of the Atlantis Community have threatened to sue RTD an effort to force the agency to put lifts on the buses if the agency doesn't order the lifts. RTD's staff recommended that the lifts be eliminated from the bus order because of the cost — $1.1 million, or more than $12,000 per bus — and expected maintenance problems. Eighty percent of the money for purchasing the lifts would come from federal funds. RTD originally ordered the buses with the lifts, but on Nov. 19 the board voted 11 to 5 to rescind the decision to buy the lifts. When the buses were ordered in March, federal regulations required that wheelchair lifts be installed to all buses purchased with the aid of federal funds, but that rule has since been withdrawn by the Department of Transportation. - ADAPT (79)
Rocky Mountain News Tues., Nov. 6, 1979, Denver, Colo Photo by Steve Groer, News: A woman in a parka stands, smiling, holding the push handles of another woman's wheelchair. The woman in the wheelchair is facing the camera and smiling, eyes closed, a polite face. She's about eye level to the woman standing behind her because she is on a lift getting into a van. Caption reads: Pam Mellon helps Sonja Kerr into her van at Atlantis. [Headline] For some, just getting to job is an obstacle EDITOR'S NOTE‘: Nearly three fourths of Denver's 700,000-plus commuters drive to work alone by car. This is the latest in a series of stories about those who don't. By JERRY BROWN News Staff Paul and Jan Stewart almost lost their jobs with a local life insurance company after someone stole their car three weeks ago, leaving them with no way to get to work. Attorney Les Berkowitz owns a specially equipped car and hires a driver for his commuting and work-related travel. He estimates the special arrangements add $350 to his monthly commuting expenses. Sonja Kerr lives 3 1/2 blocks from the stop where she catches her bus to work. But she has to travel an extra two blocks to get there because of obstacles along the way. Mel Conrardy shells out $11 for each of his thrice-weekly Amb-O-cab trips to and from work. For the Stewarts, Berkowitz, Kerr and Conrardy, physical handicaps complicate their efforts to get to and from work — and restrict their commuting options. There‘s just no transportation for the handicapped if you don't have your own vehicle,” said Jan Stewart, whose husband is a paraplegic. As a result, Mrs. Stewart said, she and her husband "were in pretty desperate straits" when their car was stolen. "We don't have any money," she said. “We couldn't rent a car." Taking a bus to work was out of the question, she said, because they don't live close enough to the bus routes on which service for the handicapped is provided, and regular buses aren't equipped to handle Mr. Stewart’s wheelchair. And Amb-0-Cab, which provides door-to-door pick up and delivery service for the handicapped, was too expensive - $17 per round trip. The state Commission on the Disabled provide the Stewarts with transportation to work for two weeks. “They were very nice, but it was helter-skelter," Mrs. Stewart said. “They only have one driver and one van. Some mornings they would get us there (work) at 9 a.m., sometimes at 10:30." That didn't make their employer too happy, Mrs. Stewart said. Particularly since the Stewarts were supposed to be at work by 8 a.m. And the commission's driver quit at 4:30 p.m., leaving the Stewarts without transportation home. They turned to “friends, my boss and anybody else kind enough to give us a ride," Mrs Stewart said. “There were a lot of tears, a lot of frustration and a lot of worry" until they scraped together the money to buy an old used car, she said. The transportation problems of the physically handicapped are "all easily solvable if all you have is money," said Berkowitz, who maintains an active law practice despite being confined to a wheelchair and having only limited use of his arms “Unfortunately, I don't have that much." “Transportation is a difficult and an expensive proposition," he added. “But regardless of the negatives, the handicapped do what they have to do. It's not an insurmountable problem. If someone wants to do it, they can do it." But others within the handicapped community say the lack of cheap, dependable transportation for the handicapped prevents many of the estimated 6,000 to 8,000 Denver area residents confined to wheelchairs from being able to work. RTD offers limited service for the handicapped — three fixed routes and door-to-door service by subscription only — but doesn't expect to make its regular bus service accessible to the handicapped until 1982. Accessible bus service will enable many handicapped persons to find jobs who simply have no way to get to work today, according to spokesmen for the Atlantis Community, which has led the fight for accessible buses in Denver. Kerr, who works for Atlantis, uses RTD’s existing fixed-route service for the handicapped to get to work several days a week. She also owns a lift-equipped van — bought for her by her uncle — and sometimes rides to work in it with her roommate who drives. Kerr’s roommate plans to move, however, and Kerr said she doesn't think her reflexes are good enough for her to drive the van herself in Denver traffic. By trial and error, Kerr has found a route between her home and her bus stop. But she can't ride the bus in bad weather or when there is snow or ice on the ground. And if she misses her bus -— or fails to make a transfer connection downtown -- she has to wait two hours for the next bus. Conrardy also works at Atlantis, three days a week. But he lives with his mother and doesn't work to support himself, so the $11-a-day commuting expenses are something he can live with. “lt gives me something to do, Conrardy said of his part-time duties for Atlantis. - ADAPT (77)
The Selma of handicapped rights By Melanie Tem One recent Sunday morning, Kathy Vincent, a 41-year-old Denver woman with cerebral palsy, decided to go to church. She left her apartment, which she had just moved into after spending years in a nursing home, and propelled herself to a No.15 bus stop downtown. She saw "what looked like a wheelchair bus" approaching, and prepared to board it via the hydraulic lift. Instead, the driver told her the lift had been disconnected and, "this isn't a wheelchair bus anymore." The next wheelchair-accessible bus would arrive, he told her, in 30 minutes. "By that time," Vincent later recalled, "church would have been over." That incident has made Vincent a sympathizer with the more militant of Denver's disabled community - led principally by the Atlantis Community and HAIL(Holistic Approaches to Independent Living) - who are demanding that Regional Transportation District dramatically increase the number of wheelchair-accessible buses in its system. Specifically, they want the 89 new "articulated" buses on order to be equipped with wheelchair lifts, and have filed a lawsuit to force the issue. Articulated buses aren't suitable for conversion to wheelchair accessibility, according to RTD spokesman Kathy Joyce. Since they can carry more passengers and travel at higher speeds - their articulated (bendable) design allows them to take corners faster - they are intended for use on heavily traveled express routes. Joyce estimates it takes 5 to 7 minutes to load a passenger in a wheelchair, and another 5 to 7 minutes for unloading - delays which RTD considers unacceptable in a high-speed, efficient transportation system. FOR STEVE SAUNDERS, the issues go beyond personal convenience and articulated buses. Saunders, 31, also has cerebral palsy. He lives alone in a Capitol Hill apartment and works at HAIL. Saunders, along with other demonstrators assembled in RTD offices a few months ago, protested the board's decision to order the articulated buses without wheelchair lifts. Demonstrators blocked stairways and chained themselves to doors, to dramatize their point they said. Saunders was the only demonstrator to accept a summons from the police, an action which guaranteed a day in court. Last month he got his day, but had little opportunity to express his views, as the charges against him were dismissed. But, he said later he views the conflict as “a clear human rights issue. What we're demanding is equal access to public transportation, just like everybody else." Many bus drivers and able-bodied passengers seem skeptical about this view of the situation. While all sides in the dispute agree that so far public reaction to the wheelchair-accessible buses has been positive, there seems to be some sentiment now that the activists have gone too far. Several drivers put it this way: "They keep saying they want to be treated like ordinary people, when the fact is they're not ordinary people and they'd better accept that." Attitudes like that are, said Wade Blank of the Atlantis Community, disturbingly reminiscent of earlier civil rights struggles. He calls Denver, "the Seima of the handicapped rights movement." Similar battles have been or are being waged in Los Angeles, St. Louis, Washington, D.C., and other cities across the country by the handicapped. The 90 percent accessible transportation in Seattle is lauded as proof of what can be done. Blank, who is able-bodied, thinks of himself as a "liberator," and contends the issue of full accessible public transportation is critical as disabled people across the nation organize and develop their power. RTD's Joyce, whose younger sister Heannie is disabled and a member of Atlantis, seems to echo this perspective when she says, "We feel that all this has less to do with RTD’s commitment to accessibility, which goes back a long way and hasn't changed, and less to do with articulated buses than with politics and economics." As corporations bring new money into Denver, she says, Atlantis and HAIL are moving to ensure that disabled citizens will be taken seriously. "They're making a statement," she says. "We understand that. But we can't allow it to change what we do." RTD, she says, is committed to making half of its entire system wheelchair-accessible by July of this year. ANOTHER POLITICAL FACTOR is RTD's first board election, to be held in November. Members of the disabled community are interviewing candidates to determine their willingness to support issues of concern to that constituency. HAlL's Saunders already has announced his candidacy. In other cities, much has been made of the low usage of wheelchair-accessible vehicles by the disabled. RTD's records indicate that of a total 160,000 rides per average day, disabled riders average between 90 and 260 per week. Neither RTD nor the disabled seem alarmed by this fact. Training, they agree, is the key. Saunders and others provide one-on-one training in bus riding to disabled passengers, and RTD trains both drivers and potential passengers. Both sides also seem willing to be patient with the equipment failures that plague any intricate mechanical apparatus. The issue ls complex, emotional and, for the disabled, very personal. Says Kathy Vincent, who can't travel anywhere on her own and has to rely completely on wheelchair-accessible buses: “l never was militant before. But now l don’t have any choice." - ADAPT (67)
Rocky Mountain News 6/30/77 [This text contains the story that appears in ADAPT 67 and ADAPT 72, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO (News Photo): In darkened doorway a young woman in a wheelchair (Debby Tracy) appears light against the background, almost like she is glowing. She is a in a motorized wheelchair, the armrests come almost up to her arm pits. Her legs are turned to one side and her feet don't meet the footrests. She is looking up a bit and smiling a big smile; her long delicate fingers play around her control box (for her chair) and her other armrest. Caption reads: Debbie Tracy at home: "I want to go back to school. I like it there." [Headline] Debbie Tracy fighting to acquire knowledge By Sue Lindsay Roll Two years ago Debbie Tracy couldn't tell time. Today she reads the newspaper every morning. Her IQ has increased by 45 points. The source of her improvement was two years in a Denver public school specializing in special education. But Debbie, who was born with cerebral palsy and spent most of her life in institutions for the disabled, is 21 now and Denver school officials say she's too old to remain in public schools. They cite a state law saying the school district is required to educate children only up to age 20. Forty wheelchair-bound young adults converged in front of the school administration building at 900 Grant St. Wednesday to demonstrate their support for Debbie’s right to more education in Denver public schools. Debbie's mother, Elaine Jacoby. says she'll go to court if necessary to fight what she sees as a violation of her daughter's civil rights. She threatened to sue the Denver Board of Education, the state Institutions Department and the State Home and Training School in Wheat Ridge, where Debbie lived for nine years, for misdiagnosing her daughter's mental capacity and depriving her of an education. DEBBIE SEES HER PLIGHT more simply. "I want in go back to school,“she said. "l like it there. I've been learning all kinds of things I didn't know before." Supporting Mrs. Jacoby and Debbie in their fight in the Atlantis Community, an organization which works to remove the severely disabled from institutions and place in jobs and apartments throughout the community. "Debbie is an adult who has been deprived access to the education that would give her the skills she needs to be independent," said Mrs Jacoby, who is divorced from Debbie's father. “l am not asking the taxpayers to finance her until she is prepared for college. But I feel that the Denver public schools owe Debbie more than two years of very basic education before they throw her out into society. I fail to see why my child should be denied what every other child has simply because she is not able-bodied." Mrs. Jacoby said Debbie is a victim of the state's failure to meet the needs of handicapped children. She said Debbie was prohibited from attending public schools and even special education schools because cerebral palsy, a disorder which affects the muscles, had left her without bladder control. For five years, Mrs. Jacoby said she repeatedly tried to get Debbie into public schools. DEBBIE ATTENDED THE United Cerebral Palsy Center for five years. But Mrs. Jacoby said the training there was at pre-school level, directed toward a future in a sheltered workshop. "This was not an acceptable goal for my daughter," Mrs. Jacoby said. During this period, numerous psychological tests were conducted. When Debbie was 10, her mother placed her at Ridge Home. "I thought she would receive educational and social programming that was adequate, but I found again that programs available to able-bodied children," she said. When Debbie turned 19, things began looking up. The state passed the Handicapped Children's Act which, since 1975, has required public schools to provide education for handicapped and disabled persons aged 5 through 20. Debbie moved out of Ridge to the Atlantis Community at 2965 W. 11th Ave. and entered Boettcher Elementary School, a special education facility within the Denver school system. Her progress was remarkable. "When we got her from the Ridge she didn't know her alphabet, she didn't know her colors, she couldn't tell time," said Wade Blank, an executive director of the Atlantis Community. "Now she’s alert and able and eager to learn. She reads the Rocky Mountain News. Debbie had an IQ of 50 when she got out of Ridge. Two years later her IQ is 95. That says a lot to us.” She now functions at the level of a third or fourth grader, according to Blank. “We know she would be a normal functioning adult if only she had been given the opportunity to develop," he said. “Instead, the state shoves everyone into state homes where they vegetate just because they happen to be confined to wheelchairs. It has nothing to do with actual mental ability. " But Debbie is now 21. She has been told that she can no longer attend Boettcher or any other Denver public school. Mrs. Jacoby has appealed this decision to everyone from the Boettcher school principal to Supt. Joseph Brzeinski. LAST WEEK MRS. JACOBY received a letter containing the school officials’ final decision. Debbie could not be allowed to continue to attend Boettcher. But the letter, from James M. O'Hara, executive director of the Department of Pupil Services, suggested that other alternatives existed for Debbie at the Cerebral Palsy Center,the Emily Griffith Opportunity School and at private community agencies. "None of these alternatives are adequate". Mrs. Jacoby said Wednesday in front of the board's headquarters. "They do not meet Debbie's needs. Debbie is not ready for the Opportunity School, but she needs more than the Cerebral Palsy Center can offer. “For 21 years, I’ve put up with empty answers from school officials. I’ve talked and talked to people whose minds are already made up. They aren’t used to persons like Debbie living independently. They're used to them being institutionalized. Debbie can do better than that and I want her to have that chance.” - ADAPT (57)
Western Union Mailgram Mailgram Service Center Middletown VA, 22645 11/16/81 06:23pm EST The Atlantis Community 4536 East Colfax Denver, CO 80220 THIS MAILGRAM IS A CONFIRMATION COPY OF THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE: MAYOR WILLIAM MC NICHOLS ROOM 350 CITY AND COUNTY BLDG DENVER CO 80202 THE DISABLED COMMUNITY WISHES TO EXPRESS ITS GRATITUDE TO THE CITY OF DENVER FOR ALL THE WHEEL CHAIR CURB CUTS BEING DONE THIS MONTH, WE COMMEND YOU ON YOUR COMMITMENT TU TOTAL ACCESSIBILITY THE ATLANTIS COMMUNITY - ADAPT (55)
Denver News [Headline] Handicapped protest curbs PHOTO by Steve Groer, News photo: A slim young African American man [George Roberts] in a wheelchair looks down intently as the sledgehammer he is swinging hits the curb. Beside him another man in a wheelchair [Les Hubbard] holds another sledgehammer in left hand, while holding his right arm over his had, in almost a fencing pose. Behind them sits a third man, also in a wheelchair. Caption reads: George Roberts, right, and Les Hubbard swing hammers in effort to level curb at southwest corner of East Colfax Avenue and Colorado Boulevard [Headline] 'Put McNichols in a wheelchair' By Jane Hulse Les Hubbard has been hit by cars four times as he tried to maneuver his wheelchair over impeding curbs to cross Denver streets. Hubbard, a handicapped resident of Atlantis Community lnc., underwent painful back surgery as a result of one such mishap. “That’s why I've got this hammer," he said Monday, just before he took a sledgehammer to a curb at Colorado Boulevard and East Colfax Avenue. He was one of about 50 wheelchair bound Atlantis residents who destroyed the curb to protest the city’s discontinuation of a program to eliminate hindering curbs and replace them with ramps. Hubbard and George Roberts, another Atlantis resident, chipped away at the curb while others in wheelchairs gathered in the street to cheer. “Down with curbs!" chanted the group, as traffic inched its way around the protesters and spectators. Some protesters held signs that read “We demand curb cuts," “Come on Denver, level with us — cut curbs now," and “Make Denver accessible." The curb turned out to be much stronger than the entourage expected. Hubbard and Roberts chipped away at it, leaving a small mound of crumbled concrete in the street. “They build tough curbs," exclaimed Hubbard, sweating in the 90-degree heat. "This is just enough to get the message across to make the sidewalks accessible,“ he said. “I'd like to take (Mayor William) McNichols and put him in a wheelchair for one month. It ain't easy. It looks easy because we're good at it." He said he rolls his wheelchair down a driveway near an intersection, rather than jumping the curb. Then he must maneuver the chair along the street, trying to avoid traffic as he crosses the intersection. The wheelchair-bound men and women began their protest with a single-file, westward march along East Colfax Avenue. They rolled that way for a block, then crossed the busy street and headed back to Colorado Boulevard. Traffic came to a halt. The protest ended peacefully when Denver police arrived, ordered the hammering stopped and ushered the protesters out of the road. The participants had acknowledged in advance that they might be arrested for civil disobedience. No arrests took place. A few years ago, the city undertook to remove impeding curbs and replace them with ramps. Many such ramps were installed around the city, each put in at the request of disabled citizens who found certain curbs a barrier when the went to work or did their shopping, according to Mary Penland, an administrator for Atlantis. “There are no funds for the program this year,” she said, echoing the city's response to recent requests for new ramps. "We want the program re-established," she said. Ed Ellerbrock, chief design engineer for the city's Traffic Engineering Division, said he was surprised by the demonstration. He said he and other city officials met with Atlantis residents last Wednesday about the curb issue and the meeting ended on a friendly note. He said he'd told the residents then that he would request $100,000 in next year's budget to reinstitute the program, he said, he had planned $50,000, but he upped the amount at their insistence. Ellerbrock said the program was discontinued in 1978 because requests for curb ramps had slacked off. He has had 12 requests since then. With each ramp pegged at a cost of $1,500, Ellerbrock said, he has been unable to fulfill the request with money from other departments. - ADAPT (54)
Denver Post, Photo by John Sunderland: Ten people in wheelchairs [including, left to right, George Roberts, Les Hubbard, Bob Conrad and Debbie Tracy?] sit in the street in two rows along a curb. George and Les are hammering the curb with sledgehammers as the others watch. The woman to the far right holds a sign that says "We [unreadable] curb cuts, and has a stick figure picture of a woman in a wheelchair. in the background on the left side you can see part of someone else in a chair with a hammer. Cation reads: George Roberts, left, and Les Hubbard Bludgeon a Curb in Protest. Other members of the Atlantis Community surround them in a demonstration against obstacles to their mobility. [Headline] Atlantis Members Bludgeon Curb in Protest By Bill Scanlon, Special to the Denver Post An 8-inch curb is not much of an obstacle to most pedestrians. But when you are in a wheelchair and you’ve counted 44,000 of them and each one of them is an obstacle to your movement and your freedom, that 8-inch curb can become a symbol of intense frustration. Two handicapped Denverites bludgeoned such a curb with 20-pound sledgehammers Monday afternoon to show their anger at the mayor's office for what they described as a failure to make the sidewalks and streets of Denver safe and accessible to the disabled community. THE DEMONSTRATION at the corner of East Colfax Avenue and Colorado Boulevard was put together by the Atlantis Community, an organization of handicapped people. According to a press release, the group staged the protest to “express our anger and frustration at the 44,000 curbs in Denver which prevent us from using the sidewalks and crossing the streets." A crowd of about 30 people watched and cheered as a like number of handicapped people wheeled their chairs westward down the sidewalk in front of National Jewish Hospital. When they reached a curb that had been cut to provide automobiles access they crossed Colfax Avenue. Then they proceeded eastward along the Colfax Avenue sidewalk until they reached the Conoco service station at the corner. There was a rounded curb there, so the protesters wheeled their chairs across Colfax. They were forced to edge into Colorado Boulevard traffic to go around the concrete median. At the corner they found themselves up against an 8-inch curb, symbolic of thousands of others that had stirred the protest. THERE, LES HUBBARD and George Roberts began wielding their sledgehammers. Amid cheers of “Down with the curbs," they succeeded in inflicting slight damage to the concrete slab. Drivers stopping at the corner traffic light were mostly curious, often supportive, but also a little wary about hitting the wheelchairs. The chairs impeded but did not stop traffic at the busy intersection. During a break from hammering, Hubbard said, “We have the right to go places like anyone else, but we can't. I'd like to put (Mayor Bill) McNichols in a wheelchair tor about a month." Two years ago Atlantis staged a protest against the Regional Transportation District for failing to provide adequate means for disabled people to ride the bus. Bob Conrad, co-administrator of Atlantis, said the group was not protesting RTD this time. By 1982, RTD expects to make its bus system the nation's first that is fully accessible to the physically handicapped. CONRAD SAID the city has been “pretty responsive" in the downtown area to the needs of handicapped people, but it has not responded to particular curb problems elsewhere. He said, “The city only cuts curbs that have been damaged" and added that the city budget no longer provides money for cutting undamaged curbs at particular problem areas. Edward Ellerbrock, a spokesman for Denver's Traffic Engineering Department, said there has been less money budgeted for building wheelchair ramps the past two years only because the demand has been less. He said his department met with Atlantis officials less than a week ago for "some brainstorming." He said both sides agreed that Atlantis would start identifying specific spots where ramps were needed and the Traffic Engineering Department would respond to them within the limits of its budget. Ellerbrock said his department is requesting $100,000 to cut curbs and build wheelchair ramps. He added that there is “no guarantee we're going to get it," so for publicity's sake the protest might have had some merit. CONRAD SAID that for a wheelchair person “one curb is just as bad as a flight of stairs." He said handicapped people usually have to wait in their chairs at an intersection until some people come along to help them up the curb. “Unless you're really trained at doing it he said, “you can dump the person out while trying to lift him." Hubbard said he has been hit four times by automobiles “because of these curbs. Once I had to have back surgery." He said he wanted to hammer the curb “just enough to get the message across." After about a half-hour of hammering, cheering, chanting and impeding of traffic, a Denver police car arrived and the group was told to clear the intersection or the protesters would be ticketed. The group agreed to move, apparently believing the point had been made. Denver Police Sgt. Richard Nelsen later said, "They got the publicity they wanted. They're happy. I'm happy it's all over. - 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 (50)
Red Rock Journal, Community College of Denver, vol.1, number 2, April 12, 1977 HEW Occupied Disabled Demand Rights by Jim Walker Will the forgotten minority finally be heard? Last Tuesday about one hundred and fifty disabled people gathered in front of the Federal building to demand their rights by protesting the delay of the signing of a bill by Health, Education and Welfare Secretary Califano. Between bursts of chanting and sign waving, several disabled participants lodged verbal protest against the delay. Ingo Antonisch, the executive director of the Mayor's Commission on the Disabled along with Don Galloway, the executive director of the Governor's Advisory on the Handicapped were also there to voice their discontent. Lyle Peterson, master of ceremonies, lead the group in the chanting of "We Want our Rights," while converging onto a downtown street. Clad with wheelchairs and crutches and a stretcher they continued to hold up traffic for about fifteen minutes until Denver police came to break it up. During the detainment of downtown motorists, one parking lot manager, James Chidlaw, started to detour traffic through his lot. In doing this, he came in conflict with a demonstrator named Dennis Wilcox. Chidlaw allegedly assaulted Dennis, throwing him out of his wheelchair. The manager was later cited in county court for two charges of assault. The crowd then proceeded to block the halls of the HEW regional offices on the 10th floor of the Federal Building, where Wade Blank, director of the Atlantis Community, and the participants of the rally demanded that a call be placed to Washington and the conversation be put on the portable intercom system. Califano supposedly was unable to talk at that time and passed the buck on to one of his assistants, who in turn told the angry group that the secretary intended to sign the bill after he had read it carefully. Ingo Antonisch then got on the phone and said, "We hear the message but we want to see the action." Nearly four years has gone by since Section 504 of the Federal Rehabilitation Act was made into law in 1973 under the Nixon administration. The handicapped have fought secretary after secretary under Nixon and Ford and are tired of being shoved around. “It takes $25,000 minimum price to rehabilitate a person from a spinal cord injury, yet we are thrown out into society and left there to hang and dry with our guts in the wind," said one angry protestor. The law when it takes effect, will grant the same rights as racial minorities and women as it does for the disabled. There is another rally scheduled for the 29th of April at the State Capitol. Perhaps there will be more than one person in attendance from Red Rocks Campus. PHOTO by Stephen Jalovec: A sign that reads HUMAN RIGHTS FOR DISABLED fills most of the picture, and below the sign are several people in wheelchairs. Caption reads: Handicapped persons staged an overnight protest demonstration in the offices of Health, Education and Welfare at the Federal Center downtown last week. Another demonstration is scheduled for April 29. - ADAPT (47)
Rocky Mountain News March 26, 1977 News PHOTO by John Gordon: A small person (Mary Cisneros) with apparently no legs is seen from the back in wheelchair, wheeling through an empty lot. In the background is a clothes line with clothes hanging out to dry. [Headline] The beginning of a quiet war Once destined to spend her life in state institutions, Mary Cisneros, 25, is starting over. She lives in a Denver apartment and plans to become a tutor for the blind. Here, she's shown at the Atlantis Community, where she and others have found new hope. Atlantis is working on behalf of the disabled. Handicapped starting a 'quiet revolution' continued from.... ,,, the first time. For others, it means learning how to read and write. Mrs. Sue Sutherland, 23, is one of two women who tutor the Atlantis residents, using a special teaching machine developed by a University of Colorado professor. A staff of 27 persons, including some who were themselves rescued from institutional settings, provides attendant care. Their pay comes from the state and county attendant allowances of up to $217 per month to which many in Atlantis are entitled by law. A HOTLINE CONNECTS the housing units and the apartments of those no longer at Las Casitas, so residents can seek help quickly in emergencies. The job of manning the line is one of many tasks performed by the residents. Each is paid $50 a month, a figure arrived at because anything higher would oblige the recipients to involve themselves in red tape - and, in many cases, to lose the welfare payments they now receive. Most residents draw $184 a month in public assistance, most of it coming in the form of federal "SSI" payments. The rest comes from the state. From this, they pay $101 for room and board. Blank is the highest paid staff member. He gets about $8,000 a year from a combination of state and private grants. This leaves him eligible for food stamps. Administrator Mary Penland "gets paid when we can scrounge it up," and Kopp - who lives in Blank's house and has bought a third of it - hasn't been paid a dime of salary during his two years as co-director. Needless to say, Atlantis has made waves. lt has clashed with doctors who insist that the place for severely disabled persons is in an institution. And it has fought with those label people as "mentally retarded," saying the phrase is largely meaningless. "WE TOTALLY REFUSE to use that label here." says Blank. “We don't think the term is applicable to most young people. If they're retarded, it's socially retarded." Blank bubbles with excitement at the success stories of the people around him - those he proudly describes as “my circle of friends. “ And their affection for him is equally visible. There is Gary Van Lake. a 24-year-old Wyoming native who broke his neck in a 1973 car crash. Wyoming rehabilitation officials insisted he had no hope of returning to a normal life. "They told me I had reached my potential," he recalls. Coming to Denver to attend college, he wound up in a nursing home. Atlantis got him out and helped him get into Craig Hospital where he learned anew how to do things like go to the bathroom and drive a car. Now he has a specially equipped van, complete with an elevator for his electric wheelchair, and is engaged to marry in May. An outsider, viewing the rundown setting and the severity of the residents' physical problems, has to rely on their words and smiles to know how much their lives have improved. ONE TESTIMONIAL came from John Folks, 21, who has been paralyzed from the neck down since he was shot in June 1972. He breathes through a tube in his throat and uses a specially equipped telephone with a loudspeaker and a switch that he can trigger by moving his head to one side. Soon after Blank told how Folks had joined other Atlantis residents on a camping trip last summer. Folks explained how he felt about leaving the nursing home in which he lived for nine months before he came to Atlantis: “It's just like getting out of prison. lt is like starting over again. " Acknowledging that he and others at Atlantis “are somewhat egotistical" in their boasts of success, he adds: "We have to be to survive." But he also contends that the boasts are well-founded. For one thing, he notes, Atlantis has caught President Carter's fancy and could play a role in Carter's upcoming plans to revamp the welfare system. Last summer, when candidate Carter passed through Denver on the campaign trail, he met briefly with Atlantis officials. This week, two HEW aides from Washington came to Denver for a briefing on what Atlantis is doing. And a thick report, put together by Atlantis with an $82,500 federal grant, will go to Washington as Colorado's minority report at the White House Conference on Handicapped Individuals. The May event, planned when Gerald Ford was still president, is the first of its kind. lt is expected to set the stage for significant action by Congress to aid the nation's disabled citizens. The money for the Atlantis reports which was unveiled in February, came as a belated response to the original efforts of Blank and Kopp to get enough money so they could build Atlantis from the ground up. When the money came through in 1976, they knew it wouldn't be enough to get them out of Las Casitas. But they saw the value of a comprehensive report about the need of the disabled. ITS CONCLUSIONS are clear and blunt. Blunt as Wade Blanks words when he describes why Atlantis has the potential to be seen us model for the nation. “Our critics say all we have to offer is the slums," he noted a couple of days ago. "Yet 55 people are on our waiting list." "I think the nursing homes are going to have to start watching their words because the waiting list indicates, in essence, that these people would rather live in a slum than in a nursing home " NEXT: “We are demanding our rights." - ADAPT (45)
Rocky Mountain News Mon., March 22, 1976, Denver, Colo. Banner Headline for story. PHOTO on left of headline: Head and shoulders shot of a young man (Michael Smith) with dark hair, pulled back in ponytail, dark beard and moustache. His head is tilted slightly to one side and he is smiling a bit. Caption reads: Michael Smith. He had a dream; He prayed that He would walk again someday. But someday never came. [Headline] Late poet a plaintiff in nursing home case Page 5 [Banner headline in ADAPT 44. Story starts here in ADAPT 45 and continues in ADAPT 46, but the entire text is included here for ease of reading.] Late poet was plaintiff in nursing home lawsuit By Jonathan Dedmon, News Staff Michael Smith was a poet. A victim of muscular dystrophy, Michael wasn't able to hold a pen, however. Weighing less than 100 pounds, one of the few physical tasks he was able to perform was to turn the pages of the many books he read. He would keep stanzas of poetry stored in his head and wait for friends or staff at the Heritage House Nursing Home in Lakewood where he lived to have free time so he could dictate his verse. A former aide remembers when she would be busy caring for patients and Mike would say, "Got to write." "We'd say, ‘Sorry, Mike‘ Don‘t have time.‘ A lot of his poetry was lost." In addition to being a poet, Mike also was an idealist. Because of what friends say was that idealism, in spite of the fact Mike died in October at the age of 21, he lives on not only in a published book of his poems but also in a giant legal battle in U.S. District Court. THE BATTLE COULD have a large impact on the care of handicapped patients in nursing homes throughout the country since it attacks the entire method of delivering health care. The suit, in which Mike was an original plaintiff, charges nursing home patients routinely are being denied their rights and even fundamental medical care, contrary to the wishes of Congress in its Medicaid law. U.S. Judge Richard Matsch currently is considering how much jurisdiction the federal court has in the case. But already a number of patients and nursing home employees have come forward with a series of affidavits which are a litany of patient abuse. The charges are leveled primarily against the former Heritage House Nursing Center in Lakewood, which since has been sold and is operating under new management and a new name. The suit’s allegations range from patients not having the colostomy bags changed to failure of the staff to provide any rehabilitation efforts. THE NURSING HOME attorney and a part owner deny the charges which are contained in a half dozen affidavits filed with the court. Pam Malpass worked as an aide from August 1974 to February of last year. Here are parts of her affidavit: “People were punished sometimes by having their wheelchairs turned off, cut their mobility (sic). Wheelchairs at Heritage House were constantly in disrepair and falling apart leading to weekly crises. Paul Brae, a Heritage House resident, fell out of his chair because it was falling apart and crawled under his bed and said he was (sic) [not] going to come out until he got a new wheelchair [cut off] we procured for him with some difficulty. Bowel programs for a number of residents weren't maintained properly resulting in infections. Colostomies and catheters weren't cleaned properly or regularly also resulting in infections for a number of patients. I also often observed that colostomy bags and catheters improperly were connected to the people that needed them with the result that they leaked and backed up." Michael Ray, an orderly from May 1974 to January of last year, said in his affidavit that on at least a dozen occasions, he made marks with a felt-tipped pen on patients’ dressings on open bed sores to make sure they were being changed twice a day as they should have been. “Each time when I looked, a day later, sometimes longer, the dressings I had put on with the markings were still there. The unclean sores lead to more serious complications and infections. During the six months I was working at Heritage House I never saw a doctor." FAILURE TO MAINTAIN a bowel program can lead to bowel poisoning and even to surgery. Mark Biles was impacted for three weeks while I was there necessitating an elaborate program of oral laxatives, suppositories and enemas to give him relief. The owners and the administrators always met suggestions or requests from the staff on behalf of patients residing there with the remark that they cost too much or if you don't like it why don't you get the hell out. “The only time that Heritage House was concemed about the cleanliness of the home was when the state inspection team announced it would appear.” ACCORDING TO JOHN Holland, who heads a team of Legal Aid attorneys working on the case, “We're saying that when Congress established Medicaid, it intended to create a real system of delivering high quality medical care to poor people, not a system that couldn't deliver for a significant number. The benefits aren't getting there.” A particular target is the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW), which is charged with making sure nursing homes comply with federal standards to insure high quality health care. Legal Aid, which is reluctant to say too much about the case because it is pending, feels HEW merely established a “paper compliance" system whereas Congress wanted a compliance system to “see benefits and rights delivered and prevent the kinds of injuries and deprivations of rights alleged in the suit." THE SUIT NAMES every rung in the bureaucracy which participates in the provision of nursing home care, ranging from the owners of Heritage House to the state Department of Social Services and HEW. In addition to asking for monetary damages, the suit also seeks an injunction prohibiting deprivation of medical care and patient rights. The rights include proper medical and psychosocial treatment and care, the right to seek legal counsel and manage personal monies, the right to voice grievances and the right to adequate notice and opportunity for a hearing prior to transfer, among others. It also asks HEW to come up with a decent system of enforcing compliance with such federal laws. Because of the complex nature of the suit, it already has become a “paper nightmare," according to Holland, and a “paper war,“ according to Heritage House attomey Bob Eberhardt. THE PLEADINGS STAND some two feet high and the court hasn't decided jurisdiction yet. Perhaps one of the most damning affidavits filed so far is by Janice Jacobson, a former administrator of Heritage House. “Heritage House was filthy, cockroaches had infested the entire home (with the exception of the kitchen). The walls wene very dirty and an odor of urine permeated the air. “Flies were everywhere. They present a particular problem to those persons who are bedfast or paralyzed because they can't swat the flies from their faces or bodies. “Temperature controls were broken. Zone control valves which control the room temperature were corroded either open or shut so that the rooms were unbearably hot or cold. “INDIVIDUAL CARE PLANS are either totally inadequate or not existent." “Patients who had to be fed were degraded by impatient orderlies who constantly hurried them along faster than they could comfortably go on the pretext of there not being enough time to feed them." “Staff would get angry with people for having something wrong with them like uncontrolled bowels." “Lots of patients would never get dressed every day. The staff didn’t like to take the time to dress them. By keeping patients undressed a general institutional goal of keeping them in bed and more inactive was more readily achieved. “It was not uncommon for people who did get dressed to not be undressed but rather to sleep in their clothes. l received complaints from one family that one of the male patients there had the same clothes on for weeks. They knew because the same spot was on his shirt for three weeks." “Visitors and relatives often complained that their relatives or friends hadn't received baths or showers for weeks." “It was reported to me by nursing staff the director of nursing believed physical correction of resident misconduct was permissible and that she employed a technique of having persons she decided were misbehaving placed in cold showers." “The call button system at Heritage House often wasn't working and when it was, working staff very often didn't respond to calls. There was one incident while I was there where family members called in and said they heard their mother was dead. The nurse had to go down to the room to see if this was so. The woman had been dead for several hours." Mrs. Jacobson says, in her view, Heritage House was “warehousing people, not delivering health care." "Residents had no more rights than children and the official view was that the staff knew what was best for them and if the patients didn't think we were doing everything right or what they needed they could just leave." Management expressed this view often. “PATIENTS WERE KEPT tractable and quiescent by intimidation and medication. Encouraging people to be as normal as they can be is the essence of good nursing care. It was not done at Heritage House.“ In response, Heritage House attorney Eberhardt said the accusations are “totally untrue and completely without foundation. You can't cross-examine affidavits. The truth will come out in the trial. “ He also points to the affidavit of Allen Buckingham, regional director of the HEW office of Long Term Care Standards Enforcement. Buckingham stated his office never received any complaints concerning the allegations. Oscar Gross, former part owner and also a defendant, said he never would have been able to keep his license if the allegations were true. In addition, he said his home was the only home to provide a wing specifically for handicapped youths and he even received two awards from the wing. “We tried to do our best," he said. He also offered to take the News to the home to interview patients about conditions. He said his wife still visits patients. Gross sold the home in February and it now is under new management. Gross said he sold the home simply as “a business transaction.“ Before Michael Smith died last year, he testified at one hearing on the case. “He already felt he had won," recalled Mrs. Malpass. - ADAPT (43)
The Denver Post - Thursday October 2, 1975 [Headline] Muscular Dystrophy Wins Battle [Subheading] Mike Died at Atlantis - a Dream Come True by Fred Gillies Michael Smith died Wednesday afternoon in the place where he wanted to be - the Atlantis Community in Denver. Atlantis was Mike's dream come true: a fledgling community where he and 13 other handicapped persons could live in dignity as individuals, attempting to realize their full potential. But the dream died Wednesday for Mike as muscular dystrophy, the dark angel that lived with him for most of his slightly more than 21 years, won the final battle. Mike and other Atlantis residents came into the public view late in June when a Denver Post story told of the hardships they were suffering as the result of bureaucratic bungling which had delayed the Social Security checks the Atlantis residents needed to pay their living expenses there. At that time, Mike was semiconscious and not expected to live. But he later rallied, as he had three other times in the past year when he was close to death. For the past three months, Mike generally had been confined to his bed and most of the time used an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. In recent weeks, Mike had started composing poetry again — one of his favorite pastimes and the one that seemed to allow, him to escape from the physical helplessness forced upon him by muscular dystrophy. Mike also was following closely the progress of a legal action that he and other handicapped persons had filed in Denver federal court to ensure the handicapped the same rights as all other persons. And with the help of Atlantis staff members, Mike was planning his first vacation in many years: a plane trip to Houston, Texas. Two of the Atlantis staff were to accompany him there. But last Sunday night, Mike's condition suddenly worsened. His kidneys apparently had started to shut down. Carbon dioxide was building up in his body, affecting the brain and causing respiratory problems. Mike was taken Monday to Denver General Hospital, where blood tests were completed. But Atlantis officials said doctors at the hospital concluded that there wasn't much that could be done. And Mike was adamant: he didn't want to undergo another operation to cut into his windpipe to ease his breathing just a little longer. He didn’t want to be hooked up to all kinds of machines and medical equipment. He wanted to be left alone and to he allowed to die in peace and at Atlantis. Mike was permitted to "come home" to Atlantis on Tuesday. But now he was required to wear a full face mask utilizing a nebulizer which sprayed a mixture of oxygen and water steadily into his weakening lungs. On Wednesday morning, Mike twice had been taken off the nebulizer briefly while adjustments were made, and there were no complications, Wade Blank, Atlantis co-director said. But Wednesday afternoon, after the nebulizer had been removed for another swift adjustment, Mike died. “He relaxed, went to sleep and just stopped breathing," said his mother, Mrs. Joanne Davis of Central City, Colo., who was with him. Mike’s mother will fulfill his wish that the only flowers at his funeral be one red rose which she will provide and keep afterward. Mike also had asked that persons planning to send flowers for his funeral might instead send donations to Atlantis at 2965 W. 11th Ave. Early last July, Mike and a friend put together a book of about 35 of Mike's poems, written over the past seven years. At the time of Mike's death, the manuscript still was being circulated among publishers. One of these poems - “With the Wind, I Leave" - tells of Mike’s leaving his love, “leaving the oceans, fields and mountains that were my life.” But then he tells of finding "a peace and wisdom that no one can take away.” And the poem concludes with Mike's quiet admonition: "So when you remember me, think of the oceans, fields and mountains. Think of the wind that blows in the spring and you will know that I am free." Services for Mike will be at 2 p.m. Saturday at the Olinger Mortuary, 16th and Boulder Sts. A copy of Mike's book of poems will be with him when he is cremated, as he had wished. Denver Post PHOTO: A thin young man (Mike Smith) lies in bed wrapped in sheets. His long dark hair is laid out on the pillow above his head, and his dark eyebrows, beard and moustache frame his features. He looks with a burning intensity up and someone (mostly out of the picture), who is holding a book. Caption reads: Mike Smith Listens as His Poetry is Read. He was photographed in June after moving to Atlantis. - 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 (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 (38)
The Denver Post, Thurs. Dec.11, 1975 p.57 PHOTO (Denver Post Photo): A man (Michael Smith) lies in his bed, wrapped in his sheets. He looks soulfully up at another person leaning over him. Caption reads: Mike Smith when he was confined to bed. Despite ravages of illness, he was able to write. Mike's Postcript: Poems in Print Michael Smith of Denver, a 21-year-old victim of muscular dystrophy, held firmly to the dream that one day a book of his poems would be published. That dream was realized this week — about 2.5 months after Mike died at the place he called home, the Atlantis Community for the handicapped in Denver. At that time, a manuscript of Mike’s poems was being circulated to publishers. The poems were written during Mike’s last seven years, when he was living in nursing homes and was unable to lift pen to paper but dictated the poems to friends. A copy of the manuscript of his poems was cradled in Mike’s arms at his funeral and later when he was cremated. Afterward, it was determined that the poems would be published privately, with all profits- after printing and selling costs- going to the Atlantis Community. Mike’s book, titled "Companions" was published Monday and is available at bookstores and in book sections at department stores in downtown Denver and outlying areas, as well as at the Colorado University Extension Center and Metropolitan State College Bookstores. Mike lived long enough to hear the tribute paid to his poems by Thomas Hornsby Ferril of Denver, who recently was named Colorado's Centennial poet. Some of the perceptions and imagery in the poems are "near genius," Ferril said after reading the manuscript. Mike's book contains 32 poems, many of which are dedicated to Mike's companions- the handicapped persons he had known in nursing homes and later at Atlantis. In his last months, Mike progressively weakened and was confined to bed, depending to a great extent on an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. Despite the ravages of his illness, Mike was able to write affirmatively: "Our there in the blackness is a porthole that reaches into the worlds of brilliant light. There are souls there whose beauty reaches beyond any mortal eye " And vowing to go beyond this, Mike wrote: "like an arrow shot from a mighty bow, I shall fly into the heart of the most holy of holies.. Home is where I'll be."