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Home / Albomlar / Tags lawsuit
+ lifts on NEW buses 3
ADAPT (331)
The Fulcrum: Handicappers Making a Difference The newsletter produced by handicappers for handicappers in Michigan [This story continues on ADAPT 330 but the text is included here in it's entirety for easier reading.] PHOTO: A wide wet city street with about seven people in wheelchairs and scooters sitting in the middle of it. Four men, possibly reporters, stand in front of them and behind them is a city bus and some lines of cars. On one side of the street is another city bus with five other people in wheelchairs sitting by it. Picture Caption: Protesting the overturned DDOT decision, this human barricade blocked traffic in downtown Detroit. [Headline] Demonstrators ride paddy wagon, not buses By Yvonne Duffy When Mike Gambatto retired from the Detroit Police Department after an on-the-job injury, he probably never thought that one day he would be arrested for obstructing traffic on a public street. He felt so strongly about the importance of Detroit buses being accessible to persons with disabilities, however, that on the morning of November 23 he drove from Lansing to downtown Detroit to join other demonstrators, most of whom were users of wheelchairs or three-wheelers. In 1987, Gambatto was one of the plaintiffs in a class action suit in which the Wayne County Circuit Court ordered the Detroit Department of Transportation (DDOT) to purchase and maintain lifts on their buses and awarded $2.5 million in damages to the more than 1,110 people eventually included in the suit. This protest occurred because this October the MI Court of Appeals overturned the earlier decision, ruling in favor of DDOT and eliminating the monetary damages. The group of about twenty-five huddled at the intersection of Woodward and East Jefferson in hooded jackets, mufflers, mitts, and occasional afghans under a sullen grey sky punctuated by freezing rain and snow flurries. As the traffic light turned red, Gambatto and nine other chair and cart users rolled onto the road to arrange themselves so that when the light changed, traffic was completely blocked on the busy downtown street. Horns honked, and a few drivers got out of their vehicles. One driver, upon learning that the protestors were demonstrating for their right to use the city buses like everyone else, exclaimed, “I’m with you!” raising his hand in the victory sign as he returned to his car. The police were ready. Within minutes, the sergeant in charge approached Frank Clark, a post-polio retiree with a long history of activism to make Detroit more accessible, and informed him that if the group did not return to the curb they would be arrested. When they refused, the paddy wagon, which had no lift, was brought in, and officers began hoisting up the chair users. The chair of one tipped perilously to one side as he was loaded into the van. Gambatto asked to be lifted in separately from his three-wheeler, which sometimes comes apart when lifted. An assisting officer asked if Gambatto had been injured in the line of duty. The fourteen-year veteran of the force explained that a nerve in his neck had been injured when he had attempted to break through a chained door to apprehend a man who had just stabbed a little girl, resulting in a multiple sclerosis-like condition. The officer, visibly moved, replied, “I never actually met a policeman that was hurt on the job before. This hurts- it hits home.” Gambatto was elated about his participation on the demonstration. “I felt like we were doing something worthwhile out there,” he said. “We weren’t breaking a law just to break a law. We were making a point that really needed to be made- that the buses are inaccessible in the City of Detroit.” As mobility Coordinator at Michigan State University’s Program for Handicapper Students, he has become even more keenly aware of the financial and social costs of failing to make public transportation to accessible. “Instead of buying [unreadable], we, as a society, are paying for people to stay home- often for their whole lives. We waste human minds because we’re too cheap to buy wheelchair lifts.” The demonstrators were driven a few blocks to police headquarters where they were given the option of receiving tickets. During the two hours it took for processing, they were held in an unheated storeroom off the garage. There were no accessible restrooms. Nevertheless, there was general agreement among the demonstrators that the Detroit police displayed exemplary sensitivity and courtesy during the arrest and booking. “They were nice to the point of graciousness,” said Verna Spayth of Ann Arbor, an organizer of the action. According to Spayth, the police sergeant, whose late brother had been a polio quad, seemed aware that by his decision to arrest, he rescued them from the freezing rain and, at the same time, attracted attention to their protest by making it a newsworthy event. Ironically, George Harrison, a Detroit resident for 25 years and a wheelchair user for the last six, almost never made it to the protest because the bus driver did not know how to operate the lift. He was fortunate that a more knowledgeable bus driver riding to work came to his rescue. When Roger McCarville of Ortonville, whose both legs were amputated, heard about Harrison’s experience, he “knew he was in the right place.” Citing accessible public transportation as essential for a quality life, McCarville, who owns a company, Handicap Transportation, which carries people with disabilities to non-emergency medical appointments, says, “Lives go beyond medical. There’s a whole social aspect out there, and there’s no service available.” Many who live outside the metropolitan area put themselves on the line to demonstrate unity with their brothers and sisters with disabilities even though they personally did not need the service. For Spayth, Advocacy Coordinator at the Ann Arbor Center for Independent Living, who, last fall, chained herself with several other to buses in downtown Detroit but was not arrested, every opportunity to forge a sense of community is precious. She says, “Whether you get arrested or not, once you’ve chained yourself together with other people with disabilities, it’s totally impossible to look at those people again as separate individuals. Even without words, a bond is created there.” Scott Heinzman of Livonia, adds, “Even though I’m not expecting anything, there could be a time when I might need the help of people in other communities to bring attention to an issue.” For Heinzman, participating in the protest was important for other reasons. Sharing the view that Detroit has been hurt by the mass exodus to the suburbs, he feels that, as a suburban resident, he wants to give something back to the city. “People are people everywhere,” he says, “and if there are problems, problems can be solved.” Heinzman serves on the Advisory Council of the Great Lakes Center for Independent Living, whose offices are in Detroit. A 28-year-old quad, he is also bringing much-needed exposure of children to people with disabilities, through his activity with the Boy Scouts and his local Parent Teacher Organization. Ray Creech, a Canton resident, wanted to “show support for the people in Detroit who really need it [accessible transportation].” Occasionally, when he visits Trapper’s Alley or Greektown, he has tried to use the buses with mixed success. Spayth vocalizes a feeling shared by many in the disability movement: “The easy answer is that when we fight for disability rights anywhere, we fight for them everywhere, but, for me, it goes deeper than that. Every once in awhile, I feel the need to express my anger against my oppressors. What happens next in the fight to make DDOT buses reliably accessible and restore the monetary damages awarded by the lower court three years ago? The next step in the judicial process, according to Justin Ravitz, attorney for the plaintiffs, is an appeal to the Michigan Supreme Court. If the justices “have any sensitivity or allegiance to the law, they will surely hear our case,” he says. This process could take months or even years, however. Meanwhile, Detroiters with disabilities want to ride. Until they achieve that goal, Ray Creech vows, “We’ll just keep coming back!” PHOTO: Five uniformed police officers stand around a single man in a wheelchair. One of them has his head down and is touching the arm of the guy in the wheelchair. Caption reads: Police escort demonstrator to paddy wagon.
ADAPT (95)
Rocky Mountain News, Fri., Sept. 2, 1977, Denver, Colo p.6 [Headline] Handicapped seek ruling on RTD service By CLAIRE COOPER News Staff Wheelchair-bound witnesses Thursday urged a federal judge to order the Regional Transportation District to equip new buses with devices to facilitate transportation of the disabled. RTD has 231 buses on order. Only 18 of them will be outfitted for passengers in wheelchairs. Handicapped and elderly plaintiffs have filed a lawsuit in Denver U.S. District Court claiming RTD will discriminate against them if it fails to provide them with suitable bus transportation. The plaintiffs have asked that the buses be equipped with boarding ramps or hydraulic lifts and with interior devices to hold wheelchairs in place. During the hearing before Judge Richard P. Matsch, an arthritic youth complained that he faces “social isolation“ because of lack of transportation. ROBERT CONRAD SAID. “lf l don‘t get out, l’ll go crazy. I don't like looking at four walls." Conrad said it’s often impossible for him to board regular buses because oi‘ the pain in his legs. When he can do it, he said, he suffers embarrassment because it takes him three minutes to negotiate the steps. Other witnesses also complained about the social and psychological consequences of being unable to use the public transportation system. Glenn Kopp said he feels like “a second-class citizen.” Kopp is co-director of Atlantis Community Inc., an organization of disabled persons. His job is to help the handicapped become self-sufficient. But for Kopp to go to work, he said, "I have to depend on somebody to pick me up.” Carolyn Finnell said, “I just don't like using people as tools" for transportation. Marilyn Weaver said the lack of transportation isolates her from" her friends and her parents. "They do come to see me, but it would be nice sometime to go home," she said. Ms. Weaver and others testified that economic burdens are forced on them by the necessity of hiring private transportation. Ms. Weaver said she spends about $120 a month, one-fifth of her income, for “ambocabs," a private taxi service for passengers in wheelchairs. Ambocab charges $18 for a round trip, Kopp said. Ms. Weaver claimed the high cost deters all but essential use. “I should be getting therapy more than I do,“ said the 38-year-old polio victim, adding that her financial situation determines whether she can afford transportation to her therapist. SEVERAL WITNESSES said confinement to their neighborhoods means they have to pay more for groceries and other necessities. Kopp said he doesn’t like to ask friends to take him shopping because it takes along time him to go through the stores. The witnesses said RTD’s HandiRide service for the disabled isn't a good solution to their transportation problems because it makes only scheduled stops at medical facilities, schools and places of employment. Ms. Weaver, who works at Atlantis, said she takes the HandiRide to work because she starts at a set time. But she has no set quitting time, so she can't take it home. According to the complaint, HandiRide serves fewer than 150 persons. The complaint says about 17,600 persons in the Denver-Boulder area are being denied public transportation because of "unnecessary physical and structural barriers in the design of transit buses." Lawyers representing RTD have not presented defense testimony. The hearing continues Friday.
ADAPT (357)
Disabled Activists Blockade Transit Expo By Jack Fletcher Frontline, October 12, 1987 PHOTO by Frontline: In a medium close up, man and a woman in wheelchairs (Bob Kafka and Diane Coleman), sit side by side in a downtown street and tall buildings in the background. Both wear the ADAPT T-shirt with the no-steps logo, Diane has on a white jacket. Bob is speaking and has his hand over Diane's, which is on her joy stick. Behind her head is a poster, partly blocked from view, that reads "We the People..." There is no caption. San Francisco Hundreds of disabled activists, demanding accessible transit, dramatically confronted “the world’s largest transit exposition” here September 27-30 as they blockaded streets, chained themselves to cable cars, and generally besieged the 15,000 mass transit officials and manufacturers’ representatives at the American Public Transit Association (APTA) Expo ’87. Over 100 protesters were arrested as they pressed APTA to approve a resolution by the September Alliance for Affordable Transit (SAAT) calling for the right of the disabled and elderly to access public transit. SAAT organizer Marilyn Golden called the APTA protests “the largest in disability rights history.” The disabled community has fought against APTA since 1979 when APTA brought a lawsuit that succeeded in overturning a federal regulation requiring that all transit vehicles be accessible to the disabled. Since 1983 the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) has organized demonstrations at APTA conventions in Cincinnati, Detroit, Phoenix, New York, and Washington, D. C. to urge a policy change. Until this year when they scheduled two workshops on the issue, APTA has been unwilling to even meet with protestors. Mark Johnson, a demonstrator from Georgia, drew the parallel between these protests and the civil rights movement saying, “There was something wrong when Black people weren’t allowed to sit in the front of the bus, and there’s something wrong when we can’t even go on the bus.” APTA claims that accessibility would cost $15 billion and would bankrupt the nation’s transit districts; they propose instead a system of “paratransit” which would theoretically provide disabled people with flexible door-to-door service but in fact translates into long waiting lists and call-ahead requirements, weekday-only buses and restricted ride purposes. SAAT counters that APTA’s $15 billion figure includes completely rebuilding subways in New York, Chicago and other cities, while the disabled community’s actual demand does not include rebuilding rail systems or even retrofitting existing vehicles, but only that new buses include wheelchair lifts. Also, while arguing that paratransit may be a useful supplement to public transit, Susan Schapiro of SAAT criticized existing paratransit systems as designed with a view of the disabled as “pathetic people in nursing homes going to see the doctor twice a month . . . . It all boils down to discrimination and the belief that these aren’t really people. The APTA delegates could not miss the powerful statement made by the tenacious lines of wheelchair bound demonstrators who spanned several generations in age, were multi-racial in composition, and came from every corner of the U.S. – including eight from Alaska. As demonstrators were being arrested they drove home the irony of being taken away in a lift-equipped paddy wagons chanting, “They can take us to jail but not to work.”