- Порядок сортуванняЗа замовчуванням
Назва зображення, А → Я
Назва зображення,, Я → А
Дата створення, новіше → старіше
Дата створення, старіше → новіше
Дата публікації, новіше → старіше
Дата публікації, старіше → новіше
Рейтинговий бал, від найвищий → найнижчий
Рейтинговий бал, від найнижчий → найвищий
Переглядів, більше → менше
✔ Перегляди, менше → більше - МоваAfrikaans Argentina AzÉrbaycanca
á¥áá áá£áá Äesky Ãslenska
áá¶áá¶ááááá à¤à¥à¤à¤à¤£à¥ বাà¦à¦²à¦¾
தமிழ௠à²à²¨à³à²¨à²¡ ภาษาà¹à¸à¸¢
ä¸æ (ç¹é«) ä¸æ (é¦æ¸¯) Bahasa Indonesia
Brasil Brezhoneg CatalÃ
ç®ä½ä¸æ Dansk Deutsch
Dhivehi English English
English Español Esperanto
Estonian Finnish Français
Français Gaeilge Galego
Hrvatski Italiano Îλληνικά
íêµì´ LatvieÅ¡u Lëtzebuergesch
Lietuviu Magyar Malay
Nederlands Norwegian nynorsk Norwegian
Polski Português RomânÄ
Slovenšcina Slovensky Srpski
Svenska Türkçe Tiếng Viá»t
Ù¾Ø§Ø±Ø³Û æ¥æ¬èª ÐÑлгаÑÑки
ÐакедонÑки Ðонгол Ð ÑÑÑкий
СÑпÑки УкÑаÑнÑÑка ×¢×ר×ת
اÙعربÙØ© اÙعربÙØ©
Домашня сторінка / Альбоми / Теґ Gary Bosworth 6
ADAPT (771)
Front cover of Access USA News is almost full page picture of an ADAPT woman (Kristen Castor) in a manual wheelchair holding her legs straight out in front of her as two police officers push her wheelchair. Behind her in the street is a city bus. Caption reads: COVER PHOTO ADAPT members from around the country gathered in San Francisco to protest lack of a national attendant care policy at the American Health Care Assn. annual convention. During the action, the Clinton/Gore team released an important policy statement on the issue. Full coverage starts on p.3. Photo by Gary Bosworth.
ADAPT (698)
Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman stands in the middle of the street legs braced in a wide stance and arms stretched out. He is holding a man with a cane (Gary Bosworth) with one hand and with the other hand and foot trying to hold back a man (Bob Kafka) in a manual wheelchair who is bent forward pushing. Other police officers are standing in the street, a supervisor is watching, as is a TV cameraman. Other protesters are partially visible at the edges of the scene. Chicago police have a black and white checkered band around their hats that is very distinctive.
ADAPT (649)
On the plaza in front of HHS Headquarters on Independence Ave in Washington DC, a row of police cars is lined up in front of the building. Empty wheelchairs are littered in front of the police cars, and on the ground by the cars, ADAPT activists lie and sit. A large man sits on the hood of one of the police vehicles. Police and security guards stnd by the cars and near the front door. On one of the empty wheelchairs closest to the camera is a poster that reads "Louis, Louis shame shame shame."
ADAPT (755)
TITLE: Clinton, disability rights advocates reach accord on attendant services by Gary Bosworth, special to Access USA News Photo (possibly by Gary Bosworth): A line of ADAPT protesters, mostly in wheelchairs are chanting on the sidewalk outside a large stone building. Quinn Brisben and Ken Heard are at one end and Bob Kafka at the other. You can see barricades behind them. Caption reads: Members of ADAPT protest in front of the Marriot in San Francisco during the annual convention of the nursing home lobby, American Health Care Association. [This article continues on ADAPT 754 but the entire text is included here for easier reading. There is a statement by Gov. Clinton after this article.] On Monday, October 19, the Clinton/Gore campaign released a policy statement that forcefully supports attendant services for persons with disabilities instead of institutionalization The agreement worked out was the culmination of more than a month's negotiation between the Clinton/Gore campaign and the disability rights group ADAPT. In September, ADAPT contacted both the Bush/Quayle and the Clinton/Gore campaigns about the issue of attendant services. Both campaigns were asked to issue policy statements supporting independence for persons with disabilities through attendant services. A mid-October deadline for the statement was given because ADAPT was going to be In San Francisco for a national action at the site of the annual convention for the nursing home lobby, American Health Care Association (AHCA). While the Bush/Quayle campaign ignored the request, Clinton/Gore worked on a statement that was faxed to ADAPT as they were arriving in San Francisco on October 17. The Clinton/Gore statement went a long way to addressing the needs of attendant services, but was still missing the fact that a major crux of the problem had to with the bias in how federal regulations favor more expensive nursing home care instead of less expensive, more efficient attendant services Without the additional language, ADAPT went ahead with its planned non-violent protest march on Monday, October 19. Over 400 persons with disabilities marched in two `groups`, targeting the headquarters of Bush/Quayle and Clinton/Gore simultaneously. In response, the Bush/Quayle headquarters not only blocked off all wheelchair access to their headquarters, they also installed barricades blockading the entrances outside manned by platoons of police, Over at the Clinton/Gore headquarters no barricades were erected as more than 100 persons in wheelchairs from twenty states occupied every nook and cranny of the headquarters, leaving several dozen protesters lined up outside as police looked on without barricades After several hours of the occupation, an updated version of the earlier statement was faxed directly to ADAPT at the protest, from the Clinton/Gore national headquarters. The new revised statement was read to the assembled crowd of wheelchair warriors by Clinton’s director on national disability policy, Bobby Simpson. The final proposal is a far-ranging progressive document that: (1) persons with disabilities must be given the right to choose consumer-driven, community-based attendant services versus institutionalization, (2) employment as attendants by young women and men will be encouraged as an option under the National Service Trust Fund service to their community, (3) appointing a task force that will submit a reform package within the first 100 days of the Clinton Administration to overhaul federal regulations to remove their overwhelming institutionalization bias and instead propose regulations to make attendant services more available, and (4) the task force will include members with disabilities from prominent disability rights `groups` such as ADAPT. With this victory, the occupation was called a success by both the peaceful protesters in their wheelchairs and the workers of the Clinton/Gore campaign. That was in sharp contrast to the mood at the Bush/Quayle headquarters where the republican campaign refused to negotiate and instead issued a statement that the efforts by ADAPT were 'counter-productive' and 'a disservice to the disabled'. The next day, the mood changed again when California’s budget cuts in the state SSI/SSP of 16 1/2percent and attendant services of 12 percent were the subject of the action. The two sites targeted were the federal building and the state building in San Francisco. The police were caught off guard being stationed only at the state building. The federal protective service in charge of the federal building wasn't ready either. What followed was a declaration by ADAPT that the federal building was being turned into a nursing home for the day with all access in and out shut down. Police responded with mass arrests of 49 protesters in the plaza in front of the federal building as the protesters linked arms and wheelchairs together. The remainder of the group then continued on to the state building. Police had removed troops from the state building to go to the federal building. No arrests occurred at the state building as the group chanted and passed out fliers to passers-by. The 49 arrested were held for the day, ticketed, and released down at pier 38, which the police turned into a huge booking and holding facility. On the final planned day of protests, Wednesday, the AMCA convention hotel was the site of the dally protest. Police arrested 114 persons that day when the driveways and streets in front of the Marriott hotel were blocked by people using wheelchairs. It took hours to transport those arrested back down the pier. This prompted Mike Auberger of ADAPT to comment, "If I knew I would be spending so much time here I would have brought my fishing pole.” When released, the group marched in formation backto their own hotel for a night of celebration. It was a long week of work done getting the message out to the general public about the issue of attendant services as a basic civil rights issue. Among the celebrations held Wednesday night was a special wedding ceremony of two ADAPT protesters from Philadelphia and a musical concert put on by performers with disabilities that lasted into the wee hours. By all accounts, the week was a success. Even the police mentioned several times they were totally unprepared for the dedication and training of ADAPT members during the action to the point of admiration that the protesters never lost sight of why they were there - to expose the inhumanity of locking up persons with disabilities into nursing homes, when attendant services are less expensive, more humane, and let individuals retain their civil rights. the end TITLE: Statement of Governor Clinton on Personal Assistance Services I support efforts to make affordable personal assistance services available to Americans with disabilities. We must ensure that all people have the opportunity to live independent lives. People who have disabilities and have a need for personal assistance services should have maximum control over the care they receive. Personal assistance serves must be consumer driven- they must be met by the needs and desires of the user, not the dictates of the supplier. I believe that personal assistance services are of the utmost importance. I understand that every person has different needs. For this reason, I believe that every person has the right to personal assistance services. I believe that personal assistance services should be provided by a wide range of qualified individuals. In my proposal for a National Service Trust Fund, I have suggested that young men and women who go to college can pay for their education by spending two years working in jobs which serve our community - teaching our children, policing our streets, rebuilding our infrastructure. Employment in personal assistance services should be an option in this program, and I hope thousands of men and women choose it. This is only one of many ways in which we can expand the scope of available services. Personal assistance services should be a part of any comprehensive health care reform plan. For this reason, I intend to appoint a task force, including individuals with disabilities, on the role of personal assistance services and long term care in health care reform. Among other things, this task force should examine the role of federal regulations and funding which creates a presumption in favor of institutionalized care over home and community-based services. I have promised to submit a reform package to Congress in the first 100 days of my Administration. The task force will submit recommendations on reform in that time period. It is time for America to realize that silence on issues of concern to people with disabilities is as damaging as prejudice. As President, I will work with individuals with disabilities to empower people to live independently, I will bring people together and make this plan a reality.
ADAPT (634)
This Brain Has A Mouth (The Mouth) Jan/Feb 1991 PHOTO by Gary Bosworth: A small neat looking white woman in a motorized wheelchair, Cindy from Mass., sits in a revolving doorway. Wrapped loosely around her shoulder, wheelchair and the door frame is a long metal chain. She has a poster sign across her legs, but in the photo it is too dark to read. On her left side and slightly in front and partially in the picture, another small neat looking woman in dark sunglasses, Lillibeth Navarro, sits in her chair and appears to be talking over her shoulder. Below the picture is a text box that reads: In March of 1990, 104 members of ADAPT were arrested in the Capitol Rotunda for lobbying the old-fashioned way — with their stubborn bodies and loud mouths. Four months later President Bush sent a personal invitation to every one of those arrestees to attend the ceremonies at the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act in the White House Rose Garden. ANGER can make you a hero, or put you in jail, or both. written and photographed by Gary Bosworth. I was one of 200 people with disabilities who converged on Atlanta three months after the historic ADA was signed, to raise the banner of ADAPT’s new demand: a clear-cut national policy on attendant service programs. The lack of basic attendant services keeps one million disabled Americans imprisoned in nursing homes when they could be full-fledged, contributing members of society. While it costs $30,000 a year to keep one of us in a nursing home, the cost of providing attendant care services for the same person is $4,000 to $6,000 a year. In an ever-deepening federal budget crisis, ADAPT’s simple proposal will cost not a single penny, but simply redirect 25% of the funds currently spent on nursing home care. Attendant services in fact save money and cut the deficit by allowing all Americans — not just the able-bodied — to be productive workers, taxpayers. October’s action for disability rights at Morehouse College in Atlanta was the national kickoff for this vital issue. Morehouse College’s most famous graduate is Martin Luther King, Jr. Our protest there followed in King's grand tradition of non-violent passive civil disobedience. Morehouse College is also the alma mater of U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services, Louis Sullivan — the man with the power to push for a new national policy on attendant services. ADAPT had written to Secretary Sullivan months in advance, asking for a meeting. Sullivan was scheduled to be in Atlanta the week before. ADAPT asked for an hour of his time. Sullivan did not respond. More than fifty of ADAPT’s demonstrators took over the President's office at Morehouse College for the night of October 1st. A young boy saw news of our protests on TV that evening. He stayed up late into the night to make a sandwich for each demonstrator, pack each sandwich into a bag, and write on every bag: "You are my Hero." The boy and his mother delivered those hero sandwiches to the demonstrators the next morning. When we returned from the college, street vendors along the route stood up and applauded our wheelchair parade. At another protest in Decatur, Georgia, traffic stopped several times on a four-lane highway while the drivers honked their horns in support of the issues we raised. On October 3, we forced the issue further, blockading the doors of the Federal Building. [See photos...] During the four hours it took for the police to arrest 64 people with disabilities who were blocking the entrance, one police officer took a break to speak with a woman in a wheelchair who waited to be loaded onto the arrest bus. The cop said that his wife had just suffered a stroke. Because there is no attendant services program in Georgia, he expected to see his wife go into a nursing home — against both their wishes — within the next six months. The woman he had arrested told him that's why she was demonstrating: to speak for people like his wife who couldn’t speak out themselves. After the woman was loaded onto the arrest bus, the policeman asked to hold her hand. She reached out the window. He took her hand. Then he cried. Please, let us all put our anger into action and speak out for attendant services. Whatever happens — jail or heroism or both — we're going all the way. PHOTO by Gary Bosworth: A group of about 7 protesters, all but one in wheelchairs, stand in front of the mirror glass walls and front door of a building. One person standing and one person in a wheelchair hold a giant ADAPT flag behind a man in a wheelchair giving the power fist. Bob Kafka is sitting behind the flag and Cindy from Boston and another wheelchair user hold the end of the flag. The end Gary Bosworth has been active in disability rights for 8 years, is co-founder of Desert Access of Palm Springs, California, and member of the Board of Directors of Southern California ADAPT.
ADAPT (744)
The Disability Rag July/August, 1992 [This article continues on ADAPT 738, 733,728, 724, 748, 743 and finally 737; however the entire text is included here for easier reading. ] Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman holds a wooden barricade while another tries to pull a protester who is lying on the ground by his pants legs backward and out from under the barricade. The protester is holding onto something above his head. On one side a third policeman seems to be coming over and on the other side a man (Frank Lozano) and his guide dog (Frazier) are coming over. Title: On the barricades With ADAPT by Mary Johnson photos by Tom Olin “I am tired of rules and regulations. And them telling me what you have to do. None of them has worked for me as good as being at home. In nursing homes, they put you on sleeping pills to keep you from getting aggravated with what will occur. “You can’t pay —— you don’t have any money to pay an attendant at night, when you’re on SSI. All of these things they’re constantly cutting. I haven’t been in a nursing home for 15 years — and I don’t plan to go.” It's Saturday night in Chicago. Nearly 300 ADAPT members have gathered in a meeting room in Chicago’s Bismarck hotel, getting ready for the group’s May 1992 assault on the Windy City. People are telling their stories. Many are there because there was a nursing home in their past — or they don’t want one in their future. The next day the group will swoop down on the University of Chicago's commencement exercises. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan is speaking, and some in the group can't believe their late-breaking good fortune at getting another shot at hassling the Secretary who has steadfastly refused to meet with them to discuss redirecting Medicaid funds to in-home attendant services. A planned Mother's Day March to a graveyard — to symbolize how this nation kills its mothers in nursing homes — is cancelled. “I was never for that dead stuff anyway," ADAPT organizer Mike Auberger says. The week's events are debated. Somebody wants to know why they see police taking photos of them whenever there's an ADAPT action. There's an attorney available for people who get arrested, the group is told; they‘re given his name, as well as ADAPT organizers to contact if they get arrested. “I’m telling you — and it’s the most important thing I'm gonna say." Auberger warns the group. “have your medications with you if you're going to get arrested. Have ‘em labelled. No pill boxes; bottles. Make sure it has your name on it — nobody else's. Make sure there’s no illegal substances on you; no weapons. ‘Cos this is going to follow us down the road.” As it turned out, Chicago was mild compared to Orlando's confrontations last fall, in which nearly all ADAPT activists were thrown in jail — some in solitary confinement — for the week. In Chicago, only 10 people would be cited and fined in Monday’s confrontation at the HHS regional offices in downtown Chicago, and only 4 police-tagged “leaders” arrested the next day at American Medical Association headquarters; all were released at day’s end. Perhaps the national outrage in the wake of the Rodney King beating acquittal in Los Angeles a few weeks before had made Chicago police, considered to be some of the most brutal, cautious. The University of Chicago graduation turns out to be a beautiful Chicago spring day. Police and Secret Service are allowing ADAPT members into the auditorium without any hassle. Later, though, Jim Parker is asked to leave. He protests loudly as police haul him out a side door: “Why am l the only one being asked to leave?” About that time Tim Carver of Tennessee simply rolls off into the men's room, unnoticed, to wait out the sweep. Several ADAPT members unfurl a large FREE OUR PEOPLE banner over the wall below their seats, off in the “handicapped section" where the Secret Service have relegated them. Big burly Secret Service men with their walkie-talkies run over quickly and reach down to pull it up. Bob Kafka and Allen Haines are as determined that they won’t succeed. A kind of arm wrestling match ensues with Kafka and Haines holding firmly to the banner to keep it hanging over the wall where it forms a backdrop to the stage area where Sullivan will be speaking. The Secret Service have the advantage of leverage; they’re taller. One especially burly guy finally wrests the pole with its banner away from them and with a contemptuous jerk, flings it high into the bleachers behind them. “Clear ‘em out," mutters an all-business police captain. Four cops to a chair seems to be the agreed-on method of removal. Paulette Patterson of Chicago is removed this way. Over on the side, Anita Cameron and Jim Parker, back in and out of his wheelchair, and Frank Lozano, minus dog Frazier, are scooting down the steps on a side tier, trying to make it down to where Sullivan will speak, but they're caught and removed, too. “Get as close to the doors as possible,” says Bob Kafka to the other activists who have now been ejected from the back of the building. With police blocking doors. clots of ADAPT move to every entrance. Well, almost every one. Jean Stewart and Eleanor Smith use Stewart's crutches to pound on the metal doors, trying to create a disturbance inside, as the graduation ceremonies begin. Inside, though, the noise is barely audible. Nancy Moulton of Atlanta is sitting quietly on the ground, leaning on a door, with her guide dog Nan beside her. “Get up,” say a blue shirted Chicago cop. Moulton doesn‘t move. Nan rests her head on Moulton’s leg and rolls her eyes up at the cop towering over them. Now there are 4 Chicago cops and one guy who must be from the Secret Service hanging over Moulton and her dog. “If you don't move, we’ll have to grab you. and the dog will attack,” the cop persists. Still Moulton sits. “If you’re concerned about the dog, move!” the cop barks. Moulton gets up, worried that the cops will hurt Nan. While some block doors, others pass out leaflets to latecomers. The chants of “hey hey, ho. ho, nursing homes have got to go!" change to “We want Sullivan!" The police have barricaded the exit with blue sawhorses that read “police line." A pickup truck from the University's facilities management is unloading yellow university police barricades. A lady inside the back of the auditorium, hearing the faint chanting coming from outside, mutters, “they're not making friends." She‘s with the university. The University of Chicago is so large that commencement is held in two shifts; a morning one and an afternoon one. Sullivan has finished speaking and the crowd is emerging from the pavilion. They walk down the long fence of police barricades, while ADAPT chants and hands them leaflets: “Wanted: Sullivan. For crimes against disabled people." Inset picture: Beefy policeman with his cap down over his nose leaning forward. Caption: “If you care about your dog, move!” Article continues: It's lunch. ADAPT always feeds its activists. Today it‘s Burger King. Attendants and other walkies pass out cokes and burgers. Nan, Moulton’s dog, gets some much welcomed ice cubes from the big bag under the tree, put into the little folding plastic water bowl Moulton carries with her. A new crowd is coming to the arena. They, too, get leaflets and chants. Tim Craven has been ejected when police found him inside, but not before he and the other two who had hidden themselves in the press box get off a few good chants in Sullivan’s direction. A reporter for Habilitation, a disability magazine out of Seattle, has marched up to Sullivan, she reports, and asked him the questions ADAPT has so long wanted to ask him. To every single question, she says, he has responded, “It's a very nice day." Most of the students don‘t want to talk to a reporter. They have no comment. Some think that it‘s wrong of ADAPT to spoil their special day. Others think the group has a right to make itself heard — just not here, not now. One woman who has read the flyers says that "they don‘t want to be prisoners in nursing homes." A man, who hasn‘t read one, says he doesn’t know what they're protesting about but he thinks they have a right to do it. His daughter is graduating today —— with a degree in special education. Each ADAPT contingent blocking an entrance has its contingent of cops. The two `groups` joke with each other and pass the time in small talk. It's a lot like a chess game, says Haines; this trying to puzzle out where Sullivan‘s going to exit. Just about the time it occurs to several of the organizers who have been trying to psych out from which exit Sullivan will be spirited away that the one exit that has no guards on it is the parking lot entrance, a police car comes screaming down the street, makes an abrupt U-turn, and, at that moment, Sullivan's car, driven by Secret Service, shoots out of the entrance. Several ADAPT wheelers are on his tail in a flash, but it's too late. Sullivan again escapes— but the point, say the activists, has been well made to the over 10,000 people who have attended. Thousands of flyers have been passed out. PHOTO by Tom Olin: Inside a cavernous arena filled with people, two plain clothes police or Secret Service men have an ADAPT person (Bob Kafka) by the arms and are trying to lift him. He is sitting on the steps of an aisle leaning forward. To their right a young man in a button up shirt and jeans, a graduate, looks down at them. Caption reads: Getting to see Sullivan. Not. ADAPT makes no effort to block the streets surrounding the Pavilion. Monday‘s a different story. By 11am, both State and Adams Streets are blocked. Downtown Chicago is taking the flyers as fast as they’re being passed out. Many of them are surprisingly in agreement with ADAPT’s call for 25% of the current Medicaid money to be redirected to in-home services. One businessman engages Bob Kafka in a long and intense discussion over the merits of attendant services. He has buddies who were in Viemam, he says, and want the same thing Kafka does. He gives Kafka his card. Many other people are giving ADAPT members their cards, too; they are interested in the issue. Nobody, they say, has brought it up before. Certainly not the Chicago Tribune, which, instead of covering the baccalaureate brouhaha, runs a feature story on a college camp-out. “What I‘m looking for is a reasonable atmosphere to address the issues." Delilah Brummet Flaum, HHS’s Region V Director, would have to shout to make herself heard over downtown Chicago traffic and hundreds of milling demonstrators. And she‘s not shouting. She has come down, along with Chester Stroyny. Regional Director of the HealthCare Financing Administration and HCFA official David DuPre. in response to ADAPT demands. They want to meet with “officials”; they’ve blockaded the Region V HHS headquarters and aren‘t letting anyone in or out — unless they're willing to climb and crawl over protesters. About 20 activists have gotten all the way up to the HHS offices on the 15th floor, and have a bunch of police in there with them. It’s lunchtime by the time Flaum, Stroyny and DuPre are trotted out to Karen Tamley, Bob Kafka and Teresa Monroe and the others in the middle of Adams Street. ADAPT wants them to call Sullivan, to make him come back to Chicago and meet with them. Flaum can’t do that. “I am willing to do anything else you want us to do. to do try to get this resolved,” she’s saying. But she wants the group to be "more reasonable." She tells Tamley that she is “well aware" of ADAPT’s concerns, and that “the Bush Administration is working on non-institutional care options." Anna Stonum asks more questions. People in the crowd are starting to yell that they can’t hear. Flaum is telling Kafka that “shutting down a building“ is not the way to get a meeting with Sullivan. Kafka responds that they‘ve sent at least four letters to Sullivan and he's never responded to a single one. “You know as well as I do that the Secretary sets the tone for the discussion,“ Kafka lectures her. Kafka and DuPre engage in a debate about facts and figures. They can't trip Kafka up; he seems to know as much if not more about the issue than these folks do. At times the officials even seem to agree with him. Not, however, when he charges that “nothing the Secretary has said or done" changes anything “because he's in the pocket of the nursing home industry." “We disagree with that," say all three officials simultaneously. “We do favor the de-institutionalization model." “The damn Secretary has not said one thing — ever - has not even said the word ‘attendant services’ publicly," Kafka yells, and swears that ADAPT will continue to hold the building. “This is not being positive," says Flaum. “These are peoples' lives you’re talking about.” Kafka retorts. Photo Inset: The head of Bob Kafka, looking very intense, below the words "The damn Secretary has never even said the word 'attendant services' publicly." Article continues: “You don’t know what it’s like,” Monroe shouts at the officials when Kafka's done. “I want to talk to Sullivan. You get him here. He has no idea. Don't tell me Sullivan knows.” Monroe’s point, which she makes to Flaum, is that the money should go directly to the disabled person “because no person knows better what they need than the disabled person. Let us have our dignity.” She argues with Stroyny over nursing home inspections. Mark Johnson accuses Sullivan of “being in the pocket of the nursing homes.“ And meetings like this, he charges, aren’t worth a thing “unless there’s a commitment." The group, hearing Johnson, takes the cue: “We want a commitment!" One of the workers in the HHS office has come out for lunch and now finds she cannot get back in over the demonstrators. Still, she thinks what they're doing is “positive.” She’s a volunteer in a nursing home herself, she says, “And I know they’re the pits. People who don't frequent them don't know. These people who are walking around here” — she gestures to lunch-hour Chicagoans moving up and down the street-- “they could become victims of nursing homes, too. I look at these people here" —— and now she means ADAPT — “and I know I wouldn’t want to be jailed up in a nursing home." But then, she believes in protesting, she says. “I think protests are fine. I'm in tune with them. I was with Martin Luther King back in the 60s." she says. “I was in jail with Dr. King. I was 14 years old. That was just what you did; you went to jail. Some of our young people don't understand. “This is how to explain it,” she continues, warming to her subject. “These people want to get heard. We couldn’t get heard in Birmingham, either. That‘s why we marched on Washington." She won’t identify herself, though, but will only say she’s a spectator. But she works upstairs in the HHS office, she says. “And they got time to listen to that TV stuff — people come in talking about that, they make a big deal about the stuff they see on TV. And they got these people out here and they don‘t want to pay attention. When I was upstairs, they were callin’ ‘em ‘beasts’ and “vultures.” It is a measure of the erosion of belief in the system that has become the trademark of ADAPT that, when an EMS ambulance pulls up to the door and the word goes out that police are bringing down a man who’s had a heart attack, the thought passes among the group that this is yet another ploy. They think the stretcher rolled into the lobby and up on the elevator may be a ruse to make them move away from the door, which they nonetheless do, not wanting it to be said that they cared not for another disabled person who might be in danger. And when the man is brought down on the stretcher, there is more speculation: wasn’t he one of the officials out here earlier? Did the confrontation and excitement give him a heart attack? Is he faking? Is it really a medical emergency, or just :1 move to get someone out of the building who has an important meeting to attend and doesn't want it stopped by cripples? No one remembers the man in the stretcher more than a few minutes after the ambulance pulls away, lights rotating, into the Chicago traffic. Jane Garza from El Hogar del Nino is with the protesters. blocking a door by leaning against it. She’s part of the protest. she says: disabled herself, though she knows she doesn’t look it. She works in early childhood education. Some of the signs protesters are carrying were made by the children at her center, she says. “It's a way to bring them into it," she points out. The parents of the disabled kids at the center “are all reasonable people,” she says. “So they understand my being at an activity like this." If she gets arrested, she says, she has an understanding with her agency: they will bail her out. She’s been arrested with ADAPT before. she says; that was in Montreal. She’s been with ADAPT protests in Washington — the one to get the ADA passed; and one in St. Louis. “No one wants to see their child in a nursing home. People can really relate to that." She says the group at her door has been talking to passersby all day about the issue. “I was on the verge of going into a nursing home myself, back in ’82.” says this woman who doesn’t look disabled. When she had her aneurism and was in rehabilitation, she says, the Illinois Department of Rehabilitation Services gave her money with which she was able to pay two people — one for the morning, and one for the evening. “I just needed help getting up and then getting to bed. I was so weak. I just needed minimal assistance, somebody there to help me get dressed. But without that program. they would have put me in a nursing home.” Illinois Gov. Jim Edgar’s budget cuts have forced the Department of Rehabilitation Services to extend a freeze on intakes in that program through the end of 1993. and Edgar, Chicago ADAPT charges, is trying to eliminate a yearly cost-of-living adjustment for attendants. "After I got stronger, I was able to manage on my own. But look at how many people are in my shoes!” she says. “I worked; I had money. I was a social worker back then: one who had to apply for public aid just so I could get assistance." Insert picture: A person (possibly Lonnie Smith) with his head to one side and below the words “We want them to see what it’s like for us.” Article continues... The philosophy and tactic of doorblocking: Let people go in and out, if they’re willing to climb over you and your chair to do it. Arrest is not the objective here; inconveniencing people is. “We want them to see what it's like for us.” says one who has engaged in many door blockings. Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman stands in the middle of the street legs braced in a wide stance and arms streched out. He is holding a man with a cane (Gary Bosworth) with one hand and with the other hand and foot trying to hold back a man (Bob Kafka) in a manual wheelchair who is bent forward pushing. Other police officers are standing in the street, a supervisor is watching, as is a TV cameraman. Other protesters are partially visible at the edges of the scene. Chicago police have a black and white checkered band around their hats that is very distinctive. Article continues- Tuesday morning's Chicago Tribune, instead of covering ADAPT's HHS confrontation. reports on stepped-up security measures at the downtown State of Illinois building where. the Tribune reports, in error, ADAPT was "supposed" to be demonstrating Monday. ADAPT, it says, changed its mind. In fact, ADAPT planned to hit state offices on Wednesday. Speculation abounds as to who fed the paper the false information, the effect of which is to make ADAPT look disorganized. It later becomes apparent that state officials have had a hand in it. There is nothing in the Tribune about the people who stopped along State Street and asked questions, about Flaum, about any of it. The Sun-Times carries a photo inside. At the comer of State and Grant, a baby-blue police wrecker, the same blue as the cars, as the barricades, has blocked a curb ramp. ADAPT has blocked four intersections adjacent to the American Medical Association. Wheelchairs are stretched across 16 streets. At the intersection of Wabash and Grand, in the back, Paulette Patterson is hassling the policemen, mouthing off and chasing them with her motorized chair. It seems she is trying to get arrested. The police are being friendly enough. It won't be until noon that things will get rough. The cops will barricade the main entrances to the glass-walled fortress: many ADAPT members will take that as their cue to launch themselves out of their wheelchairs onto the high-curbed stoop around the building, crawling up to bang and hammer on the wooden barricades. A few find satisfaction in pounding on the glass walls. This will happen, though, only after the confrontation — the confrontation that resulted in Jerry Eubanks of Chicago being dropped from his wheelchair: picked up by his neck, it seems to other protesters, who holler for an “Ambulance! Now!”; the confrontation that causes Patterson to roll from her wheelchair and shriek at the top of her lungs, kicking her legs wildly as police try to pick her up. The police back off; when they come at her again, her screams again drive them back. Finally, Patterson is left alone, and, once more in her wheelchair, rolls off to the side, where she admits slyly and with her trademark smile that she enjoys discomfiting police. “They don't wanna mess with me," she says proudly. Suddenly they are all there again, surging at the entrance, trying to get up the high curb. Stephanie Thomas and Diane Coleman and others are wedging themselves in next to the Chicago Transit Authority paratransit vehicles that are a sure sign of arrests: it's the only way police can haul off a wheelchair to the hoosegow. Allen Leegant is diving under a barricade trying to get up to the entrance. Chris Hronis and Arthur Campbell are trying to follow; they are caught by police. Campbell is carried, spread-eagle, by four cops, directly to a CT A van. Cameras are everywhere; TV crews have materialized out of nowhere. Campbell has been arrested. Mike Auberger has been arrested. Campbell and Auberger are each put into his own van. The police have their eye on Mike Ervin. When you catch a snatch of cop-to-cop talk, you learn they're trying to pick off those they figure to be the leaders. “What the cops never understand is why the demonstration continues after they’ve hauled off the folks they think are leaders," says someone who is blocking a street. “They can’t figure out that arresting leaders doesn’t work; that as soon as they arrest someone, somebody else just moves in." Susan Nussbaum, blocking a side door, answers questions about whether the movement will ever see violence. “There’s always the potential for violence," she is saying. “But it would be good if that could be understood in the context of a larger issue. “I am not in favor of getting my head beaten in." At 3:15 the building starts to empty out. ADAPT has managed to block all the exits, so AMA workers and officials alike are subjected to a gauntlet of taunts as they trot, under tight police protection, down the ramp to the alley and across to the parking garage. The taunts seem mostly to be of the “AMA Shame On You” variety. When ADAPT members arrived at AMA headquarters in the morning, they found tables set up with water coolers and cups of refreshing water awaiting them. Later, the AMA‘s Department of Geriatric Health would confirm for a reporter that the AMA had done this so the disabled people wouldn't get overheated and get sick. Many protesters were wary of the water. Some suspected it had been spiked with Valium: others thought it a ploy to get them to have to pee later on, adding to their discomfort and hopefully ending the demonstration early. Much of the water was left untouched. Water was also running through hoses into the sprinkling system of the AMA‘s lawns. This had the added effect of keeping protesters off the grassy knolls fronting the building. Shortly after ADAPT arrived, one demonstrator had parked his chair on the hose while others moved across the area to block doors. Later, the water was simply turned off. Insert picture: A head and shoulders picture of a protester chanting, with the words "AMA: Shame on you!" "People are dying shame on you!" Article continues- The AMA’s flak, Arnold Collins, was standing around with the TV and radio reporters most of the day. The AMA had issued a statement insisting it “supports the home care objectives of ADAPT." Dr. Joanne Schwartzberg, Director of the AMA's Department of Geriatric Health, said in the news release that a meeting the previous Thursday with ADAPT had been “productive” and that the two `groups` had “considerable common ground.” Campbell, who attended the meeting, had a different analysis. He said he believed Schwartzberg truly had no understanding what ADAPT wanted; that some of their ideas had been totally inconceivable to her. Schwartzberg said ADAPT was the first group she had ever met with and felt “hostility.” “It was a great shock," she said. “I always thought of myself as being a great advocate. But I wasn’t an advocate enough for them." Schwartzberg said that ADAPT didn’t understand that there were “really frail people in nursing homes — a kind of frailty that these disabled don’t have. “I was really scared that the demonstrators might get harmed, the way they throw themselves out of their chairs.” she went on. “They’re very courageous; I think they're a little reckless. Luckily, nobody’s gotten seriously hurt." “Do you think she really believes the things she says, or do you think it’s just a pose?” a filmmaker wondered. The AMA had issued “a guideline for medical management of homecare patients," she said, and they were putting on 8 seminars for doctors “in managing home care.” She knew ADAPT wanted AMA members to divest themselves of their financial interest in nursing homes and cut nursing home admissions. But the AMA couldn‘t do that, she explained patiently. “We are a voluntary body. not a regulatory body." “They couldn't understand why we couldn‘t do more." she said. The Chicago Tribune was still concerned about the State of lllinois building. Every day Tribune stories had chronicled the increasing security at the site. On Tuesday, Paulette Patterson and another disabled woman filed suit in U.S. District Court alleging denial of access due to increased security. Though a temporary restraining order was not granted, Patterson’s attorney, Matthew Cohen, said filing the suit had had the desired effect. The Tribune covered the suit. Photos by Tom Olin: 1) Two protesters (Spitfire and Jimmi Schrode) in the march raise the power fist to woman leaning out of a second floor window yelling and giving them the thumbs up. Below on the sidewalk most people are just walking by but one older man looks on. Spitfire is wearing her combat helmet. 2) A line of ADAPT protesters face a set of barricades on the other side of which are a line of policemen holding the barricades with both hands. Midway down the line of protesters, a man in a wheelchair (Danny Saenz) is turned toward the camera and another protester (Chris Hronis). 3) Close up of a man in a wheelchair (Rene Luna) who sits in front of an almost life sized portrait of IL Governor Edgar. Rene is holding a poster that reads "nursing home industry owns Edgar." Article continues- Finally, on Wednesday, ADAPT obliged the Tribune and state officials by staging a protest at the building, drawing attention to stale policies that were cutting people off from attendant services in Illinois. On Thursday. the Tribune ran a long story on ADAPT. Calling them "a group of vociferous activists savvy in street action." It quoted a miffed Chicago official who refused to be named saying that "one of the strongest points in their civil disobedience is making themselves look as pathetic as possible.“ “The group's history is rife with attention-grabbing acts of protest." said the Tribune. which compared them to ACT-UP and Earth First! protest `groups`. "Though some may question their tactics. none can doubt they have impact.“ said the Tribune. the end