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This is part 2 of the ADAPT Capitol Rotunda protest in support of the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA. This shows the group preparing for civil disobedience to pressure swift passage of the bill. Over 100 people were arrested at this protest, which gets less attention than the Crawl but was equally intense. The film is open captioned (as are all videos on this museum site).
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
ADAPT (734)
Photo by Tom Olin?: A very large crowd of wheelchair users are lined up in rows facing out from in front of the glass headquarters of the American Medical Association. Tim Craven of Tenn. is in front leading a chant. In the group nearest the camera are Allen ___ in a purple shirt, beside him a woman and then Mike Evin and the possibly Tom Rafferty.
ADAPT (708)
Chicago Defender, Thursday May 14, 1992 ADAPT shuts down Illinois center ADAPT protests budget cuts by Dobie Holland Hundreds of wheelchair-bound demonstrators shut down the State of Illinois Center after they converged on the building Wednesday to protest the impending budget cuts in the Home care program for the disabled. The shut down occurred after members of the Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT) were denied access to the governor’s 16th floor offices. The group retaliated with a blockade of escalators and elevators. Although ADAPT members faced barricades outside the center, once they had stormed inside, security police operating the elevators refused to allow most of the wheelchair-bound protesters upstairs. Mike Ervin, one of the Chicago coordinators for ADAPT, said they had no choice but to block the paths of pedestrians in the building by setting up wheelchair blockades of escalators and elevators in the center. They demanded a meeting with the governor. Gov. Jim Edgar was in Springfield but it was not clear by the Chicago Defender's press deadline if he would meet with the group. Gary Mack, a spokesman for the governor, said the State of Illinois has one the most “liberal programs" in the country for the disabled and cuts are being made “across the board” in the wake of a severe budget deficit. Mack said the program will lose $3 million — “a small amount" — a reduction from $68 million to $65 million. Mack added the governor was not responsible for denying the protesters access to the elevators. "They (security) have been trying to keep this place operating," Mack said. “But as l understand it, we are letting some people up here (on the 16th floor). One oi those people allowed up in the elevators to sit in the governor’s 16th floor lobby was Paulette Patterson. Patterson, who was not a member of the protest group, said she was denied access to the elevators on Tuesday when she came to the building to eat breakfast. Patterson, 35, of Chicago, said she has filed a discrimination suit against the state because she was not allowed free passage through the building “simply because I was in a wheelchair. “l was not with this group before,” she said. “But I am a member now." Illinois Attorney General Roland Burris, commenting on the conflict between security personnel and protesters, said during a Tuesday press conference: “My job is not to judge anybody but to make sure no one's rights have been violated."
ADAPT (666)
Looking into a crowd of ADAPT folks. Bob Kafka in center is talking through a microphone. Left of him is Chris Colsey with a headband, to Bob's right is Mike Auberger looking down, Bobby Thompson facing sideways, and Jane Embry. Directly behind Bob is Robert Reuter facing backwards, and another man from Chicago or Atlanta ? In the row behind them (L-R) Jimmy Small, Wayne Becker, Marilyn of Atlanta, Bernard Baker, and behind them other ADAPT members. In front on left Shel Trapp is facing the group at edge of picture, and Mike Ervin is facing forward.
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Los Angeles Times Tuesday March 13, 1990 Disabled Persons Rally, Crawl Up Capitol Steps Congress: Scores protest delays in passage of rights legislation. The logjam in the House is expected to break soon. By WILLIAM J. EATON Times Staff Writer WASHINGTON—-Crawling up the Capitol steps to dramatize the barriers confronting them, scores of disabled persons rallied Monday to protest delays in congressional action on a Senate-passed bill to expand their access to jobs, transportation and public services. The legislation, endorsed by President Bush, has broad bipartisan backing but has been moving at glacial speed through four House committees since it was approved overwhelmingly by the Senate last September. “Two centuries is long enough for people with disabilities to wait before the constitutional promise of justice is kept," Justin W. Dart Jr., chairman of the President's Committee on Employment of People with Disabilities, told the rally. “If we have to come back, perhaps we'll simply stay until they pass [the bill]," said I. King Jordan, first deaf president of Gallaudet college for the deaf, hinting at a Capitol Hill camp-in for the disabled. Organizers of the rally said disabled persons from 30 states, including many in wheelchairs, came to demand immediate action on the bill without any weakening amendments. At the close of the rally, when dozens left their wheelchairs to crawl to the Capitol entrance, spectators’ attention focused on 8-year-old Jennifer Keelan of Denver, who propelled herself to the top of the steep stone steps using only her knees and elbows. Nearby, sprawled on her back and inching ahead slowly, was Paulette Patterson, 33, of Chicago. “I want my civil rights," Patterson said. "I want to be treated like a human being." Despite grumbling from rally-goers that the Bush Administration and Democratic leaders were relaxing their efforts on behalf of the measure, key advocates predicted the House log-jam will be broken in the next few weeks. The House Energy and Commerce Committee is expected to approve its part of the legislation today, followed by similar action by the Public Works and Judiciary committees. Final House passage appears likely to occur by May. Ralph Neas, executive director of the Leadership Conference on Civil Rights, said the unusual lobbying effort would provide a "final push" to the legislation, which he forecast would clear the House with no more than 100 votes against it. The demonstration at the West Front of the Capitol had some of the fervor of a civil rights rally of the 1960s as the demonstrators chanted slogans and sang songs to underscore their message to Congress. Rep. Patricia Schroeder (D-Colo.) made the comparison, telling the crowd; “What we did for civil rights in the l960s we forgot to do for people with disabilities." Another member of Congress, Rep. Major R. Owens (D-N.Y.), said there are still threats to passage of the bill from conservative lawmakers and powerful business interests who oppose the legislation's provisions on disabled access to transportation. “All the i’s have been dotted and all the t's have been crossed," Owens said. "There have been enough negotiations-delay is the real enemy." Speaking for the Bush Administration however, Chairman Evan J. Kemp Jr. of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission denied any lack of enthusiasm by the White House. Kemp, who uses a wheelchair, said: "This Administration is more for the bill today than it was 14 months ago.... We have solidarity. Solidarity made Poland free; It can make us free, too." But James Brady, former press secretary to President Ronald Reagan, expressed impatience with Congress’ rate of progress. “l hope these politicians are awake and listening. If not. we'll be back." said Brady, who was disabled when he was shot in the head during an attempt on Reagan's life. Meantime, Atty. Gen. Dick Thornburgh notified key members of the House that the Administration would seek a change in the Senate passed bill to make clear that disabled persons who are willfully discriminated against would not be entitled to monetary damages. The "clarifying amendment" will be introduced during the House Judiciary Committee's consideration of the bill this month, Thornburgh said, adding; "We will . . . continue to support expeditious passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act with this clarification." PHOTO: Looking down from the higher steps at a person crawling up the steps on their hands and knees. To this person's left side is part of another person climbing by sitting and to the right a pair of legs and shoes of another stair climber. Behind the person in the center, on steps closer to the base of the flight of steps are many more people just beginning the climb and still others standing and sitting at the bottom cheering them on. Part of the ADAPT flag is visible in the crowd. Caption reads: Difficult Climb. Scores of disabled people crawled up the steps of the U.S. Capitol, in a protest over delays in congressional action on a bill to expand their access to jobs, transportation and public services. Many of the demonstrators left their wheelchairs to dramatize the barriers they confront dally, organizers said.
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Independen Life Spring 1990 Article 1: Urgent Call to Action! Pass Strong ADA Now! ADA needs you! And your family, your neighbors and your colleagues — to flood Washington with appeals for justice, today and everyday, until the president signs a strong ADA! Representative Lynn Martin 815/987-4326 (local) 202/225-5674 (Wash.D.C.) 1208 Longworth Office Building Washington D.C. 20515 NO TDD AVAILABLE Lynn Martin (R-IL) must hear from as many of us as possible for two very important reasons: 1) She is a member of the House Rules committee, which determines what version of the ADA reaches the House floor. Tell her you support the Senate version of the bill. 2) Martin, who is not an ADA co-sponsor will be running for the senate this fall. Let her know that we need her support. Contact Martin and all the Illinois House members today to urge their support of a strong ADA. NO WEAKENING AMENDMENTS! The grassroots efforts targeted at the U.S. House of Representatives will determine whether the ADA is ultimately enacted in the strongest form possible. Weakening amendments are expected. Our opponents will not give up. LET'S NOT STOP NOW! If you have sent letters to the President, Speaker Foley and Minority Leader Michel, send them each two more. If you have sent cards to members of Congress, send some more. If you have visited your Congressional office with five friends, visit again with more friends, and call every week to check on the progress of the ADA. (See page 5 for The ADA Western Union Hotline Number.) PHOTO Two women smile at the camera. The woman on the right has a sign behind her head that reads "PASS ADA WITH NO WEAKENING AMENDMENTS." The other woman holds her hand in a partially raised fist. Behind both is a third woman in the shadows, who is also smiling. Caption reads: Access Living's (l to r) Bobbie Boyce- Williams, Beverly Gonzalez and Pearl Mathews support the March 12th rally in D.C. at Chicago's rally for the ADA held in the Federal Plaza. Groups through-out the country held similar rallies on the same day. PHOTO: A line of protesters in a line at the front of the ADA March, chanting as they go. On far left two older women carry a huge poster. To their right and in front George Roberts carries a poster reading "We Shall Overcome." To his right Stephanie Thomas wheels her manual chair with a sign over her legs that reads "Access is a Civil Right". Holding on to the back of her chair is Frank Lozano who is also holding the harness of his dog guide Frazier. To their right is Jennifer Keelan, a girl of about 8 years who is partially standing in her chair as she chants. An older woman (her grandmother?) is pushing the chair. She and Frank are wearing ADAPT bandannas as headbands. To their right is her little sister Kaylee, walking and holding the handle of Jennifer's chair. Stephanie, Frank, Jennifer and Kaylee are wearing ADAPT T-shirts with the no steps logo. Behind them on the right side of the street is a huge building with columns along its side. Caption reads: Close to 1,000 people joined the "Wheels of Justice" march to the Capitol, March 12, 1990. PHOTO: Looking up from below at the dome of the Capitol against the sky. In front is a huge banner reading "Injustice Anywhere is a Threat to Justice Everywhere" Martin Luther King, JR. Quote beside photo: "It was great to see the unity among the disabled people there. It was an honor to be arrested and serve time with my colleagues." -- Michael Winter, Berkeley, CA President - National Council on Independent Living, NCIL. PHOTO: Picture of Cassie James squished between the back of a power wheelchair and a desk, holding on so she can sit up. Over her head three other protesters (Erik von Schmetterling, Carol Marfisi and Kent Killam) sit on the floor against another desk. Caption reads: Sit-in at Congressman Shuster's office. PHOTO: Marchers in wheelchairs, scooters and walking make their way up toward the Capitol building. In their midst is the ADAPT flag. One man is bent over helping a person in a manual wheelchair. In the foreground a person in a wheelchair has a sign on the back of their seat that reads: Basic access to every new home. The rest is unreadable, but is the basic tenants of Visitability from the group Concrete Change. Quote below picture: "We are not asking for our rights, we are taking them." -- Barbara. Jersey City, NJ ADAPT Member PHOTO: ADAPT members in front of the White House. In the foreground a man and woman in wheelchairs sit talking. Others are on the sidewalk around them, and behind them all is a line of ADAPT protesters with their wheelchairs backed up to the fence. Quote under photo: “The best part of it was that for once we brought every different type of advocate together to form a unified force for change. There was everyone from rehabilitation professionals to independent living staff to congressional staffers to A.D.A.P.T. It really demonstrated the potential power we possess." -- Chuck Graham, Springfield. IL, Coalition of Citizens with Disabilities in Illinois. PHOTO: A slightly jumbled line of people in wheelchairs on the sidewalk next to a major boulevard. Behind them are other people standing and in wheelchairs, An ADAPT flag and another flag appear to be affixed to a nearby light pole. Toward the back of the picture someone is holding a sign reading "ADA NOW." Folks in the front of the shot are from Chicago ADAPT; most are wearing T-Shirts with the old ADAPT, no steps, logo and the woman in the very front has the Chicago ADAPT "ADAPT or Perish" T-shirt (partially obscured.) Caption reads: Joining the marchers are Dr. I. King Jordon, Paulette Patterson from Chicago, Congressman Major Owens, Justin Dart Jr. and Michael Winter, N.C.I.L. President. Quote beside photo: "I continue to feel empowered by having seen our people, in spite of most perceptions to the contrary, “stand up" for their rights." W. Michael Yeager. Washington D.C., Photographer Article 2 (The full text of this article, photos and captions appear here, in the photos it is on 536, 525 and 520): ACCESS LIVING JOINS RALLY AND MARCH ON NATION'S CAPITOL The biggest-ever national non-violent direct action sponsored by A.D.A.P.T. in support of disability rights and the Americans with Disabilities Act occurred in Washington D. C. March 12-14. The weather was unusually hot. Chicago represented one of the largest contingencies. Beto Barrera, Mike Ervin, Nancy Kelen, Ginger Lane, Rebecca Lanen, Rene Luna. Susan Nussbaum, Tom Rafferty, Judith Savage and Ora Schub represented Access Living at the historic event. MARCH 12 THE MARCH AND RALLY ON CAPITOL HILL MARCH 13 163 DISABLED PROTESTERS SEIZED AND 104 ARRESTED FOR REFUSING TO LEAVE THE CAPITOL MARCH 14 45 PEOPLE ARRESTED FOR TAKING OVER CONGRESSMEN SHUSTER'S OFFICE Photo: Marchers headed down an Avenue in DC, some are in chairs and two smiling men in white shirts and ties are in the foreground. One has his power fist raised and the other is holding a sign that says "National Association of the Deaf NAD. To: Congress, Re: ADA, Just Do It!" Caption 1 reads: "It was great being part of this movement and using our power to make things change." -- Rebecca Lanet. Chicago. IL, Access Living. Caption 2 reads: Access Living's Susan Nussbaum (far left) with DREDF's Marilyn Golden at the march. Photo: I. King Jordan standing at the plaza on the Capitol steps. Behind him you can see the top of the fountain and the upper level balcony of the Capitol as well as some fancy archways. He has a microphone in front of him and he is smiling as he addresses the crowd. Caption reads: “The time to pass this bill is now. We can wait no longer" Dr. I. King Jordan, Washington DC, President Gallaudet University A quote: "Together we shall overcome" Photo: A boy in wheelchair (Kyle Glozier) with a communication device on his lapboard. He is wearing several buttons and an ADAPT shirt. Hanging from the front of his lap board is a poster reading "We will Ride." Caption reads: An Americans Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (A.D.A.P.T.) member. Photo: The Capitol rotunda crammed with people in wheelchairs and a few people standing. On the wall in the back is a life-sized black statue of a man from some olden times, and a humongous painting in a gilt frame. Everyone is looking toward a man in a suit who is standing next to someone doing sign language interpreting. Caption reads: “It was the most incredible amount of power a group of disabled people ever held over its government. We closed down the Capitol while people were being arrested. All visitors and staff were turned away from the Hill for several hours. Speaker of the House Foley and Minority Leader Michel who only meet in the rotunda for state occasions both came to the rotunda together to meet with us. I guess you could say that ADAPT actions are definitely occasions. " Mike Auberger. Denver, CO, ADAPT Member Photo: The dome of the Capitol rises in the background and below it is the ADAPT flag. People in wheelchairs being pushed, in power chairs, people walking, all heading toward the Capitol. Photo: Looking down into the crowd one can see the mix of people. Several are gathered around Dr. I. King Jordan. Others are sitting or standing listening or waiting. There are 2 men with mouth driven wheelchairs, one of whom is Tim Baker. There is a woman in a miniskirt and a sports wheelchair. Mike Ervin is kind of in the middle foreground. Caption reads: Michael Ervin (foreground) was among one of the 10 Access Living staff members at the A.D.A.P.T. action. Ervin is past president of Chicago's ADAPT group. Photo: Five people in wheelchairs and one standing person look toward a van. The standing woman appears to be clapping and Eleanor Smith (one of the folks in chairs) has her power fist raised. A scooter in the foreground has a Concrete Change sticker on it. Behind the group you can see the front of the Capitol, the side facing the Supreme Court and Library of Congress. Caption reads: "The impact we made was phenomenal. By arresting 104 disability rights activists, the police facilitated a very empowering situation. For eight hours as we waited to be processed through the system, we met new co-advocates, argued, debated and strengthened our political power." -- Ginger Lane, Chicago, Access Living
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This is a continuation of the article and photo collection on 536, it also continues on 520. The text version of the entire article, etc. is included in 536
ADAPT (520)
This is a continuation of the article and photo collection on 536, and 525. The text version of the entire article, etc. is included in 536.
ADAPT (507): 300 strong ADAPT waits outside APTA Hotel
PHOTO (by Tom Olin): Black and white photo looking up the street divided by the wooden barricades. The picture is taken from behind the ADAPT people behind the barricades which curve across to block the whole street in the foreground. A car comes down the empty side toward the camera. Metal barriers divide the other side of the street from the sidewalk where there are a couple of low temporary structures. A police officer in a helmet and leather jacket stands at one side of the picture, handcuffs and gun visible on his or her belt and radio on the shoulder. All the ADAPT folks seem to be looking up the street at the approaching car. The crowd is two or three people deep and seems to extend a city block or possibly more. Bernard Baker wears a “We Will Ride” sign on the back of his motorized wheelchair and Mike Ervin has a sign reading “On It or In Front of It” on his. In the far distance, beyond the car a policeman seems to be talking with some of the protesters.
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MAinstream magazine [No date] [This story continues in ADAPT 222, but is contained here in its entirety for reading ease.] [Headline] ADAPT takes the fast lane to make transit accessible By Michael Ervin San Antonio—The first indication that something was about to happen came when an oversized, stretch-limo of a van pulled up beside the Alamo and a wheelchair lift uncurled out of the back door. The colorful banner on the side of the van read: ACCESS FOR ALL. Six more people in wheelchairs were in another van parked in a lot down the street. As they proceeded down the sidewalk to join the demonstration in front of the Alamo the pedestrians stopped and looked them over. A parade of people in wheelchairs is bound to draw stares. But the expressions accompanying these stares were unique—welcoming, supportive, somewhat star struck. Maybe they knew they were coming. Before the 50 or so members of various chapters of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit even arrived here there were stories in the media about previous ADAPT confrontations with the American Public Transit Association (APTA.) Television news showed footage of the mass arrests that occurred last October in Washington, D.C. when ADAPT members tried to force their way into the center where APTA was holding its annual convention. That's the kind of escalating media coverage Wade Blank likes to see. He’s the main force behind ADAPT. “We're becoming famous. When we had our first ADAPT meeting in Denver in 1982, our goal was to make the officials of any city we were coming to nervous. We wanted them to say, ‘No! Not here! We don’t want ‘em!’” They were certainly nervous in San Antonio. When a horde of people in wheelchairs showed up at the offices of the local transit authority for a noisy demonstration, the employees locked themselves in a large office as if they were afraid ADAPT was going to take them out one by one and shoot them. And when the march that began at the Alamo turned into an equally raucous occupation of the lobby of the posh hotel where APTA people were staying, hotel security had no idea what to do. And the bewildered looks of the innocent tourists were amusing. They’d certainly never seen anything like that before. “Seeing a bunch of disabled crazies blocking buses and doing things like that redefines everything everybody’s been conditioned to believe about the disabled," Blank says. This radical redefinition of what the disabled are (in the eyes of both the disabled and nondisabled) is what ADAPT is all about. And having stuffy APTA conferences and conventions as a backdrop helps make that point. APTA’s primary sin, according to ADAPT, is that it spent big bucks on a lawsuit that struck down the federal mandate that all fixed-route public buses be lift-equipped. ADAPT sees equal transit access as the most basic civil right. “It's the same segregation as when blacks had to sit in the back of the bus or yield their seats to whites. Except it’s even worse,” says Blank. “The disabled can’t even get on the bus.” By using APTA as a symbol of the stifling paternalism that keeps the disabled in a position of dependency, ADAPT makes the immorality of inaccessible public transit quite clear. *** Wade Blank is an ordained minister who never goes to church. “It’s in the true Jesus tradition. He was kicked out of the synagogue and never went back.” Blank worked in a nursing home for a few years after seminary. It frustrated him to see the disabled friends he made there stuck there simply because they had no place else to go. So in 1976 he and some others began Atlantis, an independent living center in Denver. ADAPT was born of Atlantis. Blank says Atlantis likes to “do the impossible” in terms of working with clients who have the deepest holes of dependency to dig out of. Frank, a man with cerebral palsy who was part of the ADAPT Denver caravan to San Antonio, was sprung by Atlantis in 1976 from a nursing home he had been in since 1934. Another woman began feeding herself for the first time when she became part of Atlantis. She was always physically able to. Her mother just didn't want her making a mess. Another woman had never seen a head of lettuce. Her salads had always come to her prepared. It’s rather stunning seeing people who were mired in the world of please and thank you traveling around the country, blocking buses and maybe getting arrested. It’s gotten ADAPT and Atlantis in trouble with irate relatives. The father of a woman arrested for blocking buses in Denver told Wade that since he was a reverend he must be brainwashing his daughter into joining his cult, just like Jim Jones. He said he was going to tell the newspapers so they could investigate. But Blank says, “All we’re saying to people in Atlantis and ADAPT is, ‘You are an important person.’ I just tell them (the irate relatives) that people get excited when they see that they are important and that they are expected to be somebody.” In 1978, it became clear that the mission of Atlantis could never be fully accomplished as long as Denver’s public transit system was totally inaccessible. What good was it to set someone up in an accessible apartment if they couldn’t move beyond it? They might as well have still been in the nursing home. So the Atlantis people took to the streets of Denver. They blocked buses. They held sit-ins in the transit authority offices. They got arrested. But four years later, they won and Denver is on its way to full access. [Bordered text box in center of page: “We created a drama and let it unfold . . .I guess we raised consciousness.”] The next year, APTA made the mistake of holding its convention in Denver. The target was too tempting for Atlantis to resist. Here was the personification of everything Atlantis opposed right on its step and begging to be hit. Atlantis formed a permanent transportation component call ADAPT. They organized confrontations around the convention and vowed to follow APTA everywhere until it passed ADAPT ’s resolution renouncing the lawsuit and the damage it did. These confrontations would also provide a focal point and a training ground for activists from other cities so they could form their own ADAPT chapters. Mike Auberger of Atlantis is a quadriplegic resulting from a bobsled accident during the 1972 Olympic time trials. “When we started ADAPT, we were a bunch of crazy nuts. A year later, we were a possibility. Now, we’re a reality. We started in one city and here we are about 20 cities. We must be selling something everybody needs.” The hope is that the feeling of self-importance that inspired the disabled of Denver will be as infectious in San Antonio and in cities all over America. ADAPT paved the way in San Antonio by creating a three-day headache for the police and transit authority and forcing them to take the issue very seriously. They also permanently etched the issue on the minds of the people of San Antonio with pictures on the front page of the newspaper of disabled people blocking APTA tour buses. “We created a drama and let it unfold,” Blank says. “I was talking to a reporter and I said, ‘I guess we raised consciousness.’ She said, ‘Boy did you! That’s all this town is talking about.’ ” “Now you can’t say that about too many political movements today.” But even if it doesn’t play in San Antonio, Auberger sees what happened there as another battle won. “Again we took on APTA and beat them. You’ve got this guy in a $300 suit and a designer tie with his initials and a soup stain on it. More and more people are starting to see APTA that way.” If success can be judged by police reaction, ADAPT is accomplishing a lot. Knowing ADAPT ’s penchant for blocking buses, the police routed buses away from areas with high ratios of wheelchair-users. They obviously did their homework by talking to police in other cities who had to deal with ADAPT. A television news report even told of how San Antonio police intelligence photographers were following ADAPT members around. And it’s clear that transit authorities are taking ADAPT very seriously too. The next target is Los Angeles, where APTA will hold its convention in October. ADAPT has obtained a copy of a private memo of the Southern California Rapid Transit District that speaks of the authority’s plans to spend $10,000 to $15,000 to “handle vast numbers of wheelchair bound people” who will be coming to town. “While confrontations cannot be stopped, they can be blunted.” It speaks of how the RTD is “searching for ways to diffuse or ward off demonstrations,” perhaps by pacifying everyone for a few days with a conference on accessible transit [ibid]. “Can we take control by creating a hospitality center for the handicapped?” the memo says. Who can resist such an opportunity. ADAPT is on its way.
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Access LISA News March/April 1993, Page 25 Title: Remembrances of Wade Blank “Ironically, Wade died in the same way he lived - swimming into the face of hostile (political) undercurrents, and giving of his life to help another fight for theirs.” - Access Living ”Leadership he provided and resulting momentum have been instrumental to clearing our biggest obstacles. I don't think we would see wheelchair lifts on buses or a campaign to establish a national Personal Attendant program today if not for the work he and ADAPT have done.” - Marca Bristo "There are some people, just by looking at them, you know they have fundamental deep character. He certainly was one. He participated in the civil rights activity of the 60's from which he learned and applied to our own struggle. He was always straightforward and said what he thought. He was filled with idealism and I hate to lose him." - R. Kent Jones, founder of Chicago 's ADAPT chapter ”He basically stood up for anybody’s right no matter who they were and did so passionately.” - Mike Ervin, Chicago ADAPT member “Wade was an activist with a heart. His family included all people with disabilities. Whether Wade was chanting ‘We will ride’ or ‘Free our people‘ or ‘People united will never be defeated‘ he knew that he must continue to fight for a better America for all people, including those with significant disabilities.” - Sen. Tom Harkin ”To dwell on the tragedy of Wade Blank’s death would be a very large disservice to the future. Wade's life is the message. His existence was a towering triumph that demands to be shouted, to be heard, to be acted on. ”He was a superb organizer. He had total honesty and total follow through. You could take his promises to the bank. ”He understood that love does not smother with criticism, care and control; it encourages, emancipates and empowers. ‘Wade's leadership of love made ADAPT the family for those who had no family.” - Justin Dart Photo: In a park setting Wade stands amid a crowd of people in wheelchairs. His long blonde hair falls over his shoulders and he is looking down at his hands. On a hill top behind there is a lone of what appear to be police officers walking away. Caption reads: Wade Blank, and his family, joined fellow ADAPT members on the protest trail. This photo was taken at an ADAPT action in Baltimore, 1991.