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ADAPT (997)
The Atlanta Constitution, Local News Wednesday, Nov. 6 1996 c5 Disabled block DeKalb demand in-home care by Michael Weiss, Staff Writer Fresh off a pair of protests that led to promises from President Clinton and U.S. House Speaker Newt Gingrich, about 100 members of a disabled advocacy group spent part of Election Day sitting in the street," blocking evening traffic at a busy DeKalb County intersection. Members of Americans with Disabilities for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT), in town for a five-day conference on disabilities and human rights, first arrived at the corner of Memorial Drive and Covington Highway about 3:30 p.m., DeKalb police said. They were still in the street when the polls closed at 7 p.m., police said. The sit-in was ADAPT’s third protest in three days. On Monday, police broke up a 500-person sit-in at Clinton's Georgia campaign headquarters downtown, arresting 86 demonstrators and charging them with trespassing. They were released later Monday. Demonstrators were calling for the president to support programs that would provide in-home care for people with disabilities instead of forcing them into nursing homes. After he was notified by telephone of the protest, Clinton promised that, if re-elected, he would meet with representatives of ADAPT next year to discuss the issue, said ADAPT spokesman Mark Johnson. “Maybe he’s finally going to make good on his 4-year-old promise," said Johnson, of Atlanta. “We sure hope this isn't more political rhetoric.” On Sunday, ADAPT members paraded into Centennial Olympic Park to demand better funding for in-home care. Thirty of the protesters met that day with Gingrich (R-Ga.), who pledged to introduce legislation that would guarantee home-and-community-based services.
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Houston Chronicle, Wednesday. May 22. 1996 [p. 22A] [Headline] Disabled protesters take over headquarters of county GOP By JENNIFER C. WANG Houston Chronicle Groups of protesters, most of them in wheelchairs, barricaded two local political offices Tuesday to demand changes in the way disabled people receive care in America. About 100 supporters of the advocacy group American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today took the Harris County Republican Party and denied party Garry Polland access to the building until he agreed to help their cause. A second group of about 150 ADAPT supporters blockaded and occupied U.S. Rep. Tom DeLay’s office in Sugar Land, until DeLay agreed to meet with them. ADAPT is a nonprofit group of activists who want federal funding for disabled and elderly care to be diverted from nursing homes to programs that provide in-home care or community-based care. ADAPT staged a similar demonstration Monday at Living Centers of America, one of the nation's largest operators of nursing homes, rehabilitation centers and other facilities. “Politicians in Houston are very important within our government. So, we want to make our case heard,” said Kathleen Kleinmann, an activist who traveled from Washington, Pa, to protest in front of the Republican Party Headquarters. "We are committed to getting attendant care as a national right. It is basically the same type of services as nursing homes - aides would help you get out of bed in the morning, help you get your food... but it keeps you in your own home and it gives you freedom," Kleinmann explained. At the Monday protest at the Living Centers of America, five people were arrested and spent the night in jail. Tuesday's protesters narrowly escaped arrest by Stafford police when DeLay, who is in Washington DC, agreed to meet with them next month. Both groups of protesters declared their demonstrations a success. Polland agreed to write presumptive GOP presidential nominee Bob Dole, Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich and DeLay, urging them to meet with ADAPT at the party's state convention in August. Polland said he disagreed with ADAPT’s proposal to mandate a redistribution of funds, but that the group's demands are in line with Republican initiatives promoting choice, empowerment and health care vouchers. “This is really a Republican agenda," Polland said. “The system mandates certain types of treatment. That‘s their complaint." Mike Oxford, an ADAPT activist from Kansas said because meetings in the past with Dole and Gingrich have yielded no action, the group is cautious about promises for action from Polland and DeLay. “The problem with vouchers is it's like giving somebody a dollar and saying, ‘Here, go to Red Lobster.’ You‘ve got choices, but you've got to have resources to back that choice up, otherwise, it's meaningless," Oxford said. ADAPT, which stages two national protests each year, said it has more activities planned for Houston throughout the week but declined to reveal where or when. “We're going to dog this issue until we get it," Kleinmann said. “We're not going to give up. Never." PHOTO by John Everett / Chronicle Group of at least eight ADAPT protesters in wheelchairs and standing fill a small office with a door and reception desk. They are talking with a man in a white shirt and tie. One protester holds a sign that reads "Too Sexy for your Nursing Homes!" Caption reads: Harris County GOP chairman Gary Polland, standing, talks with members of an advocacy group for disabled rights Tuesday during the group's protest over the way disabled people receive care.
ADAPT (231)
The Cincinnati Post Saturday, June 21, 1986 125 East Court ST, Cincinnati, OH 45202 513-352-2000 Editor Paul F. Knue Managing Editor J. Stephen Fagan Editorial Page Editor Claudia Winkler Associate Editor James L Adams Editorials Title: Transit for the disabled The recent tactics of the handicapped militants who attempted to block traffic, obstruct entry to the Westin Hotel and stop buses by grabbing onto the wheel wells to protest the lack of wheelchair lifts on public buses detracted from the legitimate claims of the disabled for better transit service in Cincinnati. The fact is bus service for the handicapped here is inadequate. On that score, Queen City Metro management and the handicapped agree. Both sides also agree that dwindling public transit funds compound the problem. It is a problem, however, that Queen City Metro needs to resolve. Service for the disabled should be improved and expanded. Metro officials sat down four years ago with the Specialized Transportation Advisory Committee, representing the handicapped, and worked out a five-year plan to develop service for the disabled. The plan called for providing curb-to-curb service with a fleet of vans called Access. But a shortfall in public funds prevented that plan from being fully implemented. As a result, the committee is charging Metro with failing to keep its promise. On the surface, the Access service is impressive. The 15 vans operate six days a week and make as many as 400 trips a day, carrying 105,000 passengers annually for 60 cents a ride. But the demand is so great that handicapped persons often have to wait as much as a week or longer to get a van to carry them to the dentist or grocery store. Understandably, frustration is mounting. Now the disabled are lobbying for dual service—Access vans and expensive lift-equipped buses on the regular routes. The handicapped contend they have as much right to ride the bus as able-bodied citizens. But Tony Kouneski, Metro president, still believes he can get more for the money—serve more disabled people—by expanding Access. Kouneski’s argument is hard to refute. Experience in some other cities bears him out. In Los Angeles, 1800 buses equipped with lifts are transporting all of 40 wheelchair users a day. But the issue has now become philosophical as well as financial, and Queen City Metro officials must take care to remain responsive. The leaders of the handicapped in Cincinnati are to be commended for their refusal to participate in the demonstrations staged by the Denver-based group. Metro management, by demonstrating its good faith, should make sure that the handicapped never regret their choice.
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[Headline] PROTEST: VIA demonstration PROTEST/from B1 door-to-door service,” Cook said. “It’s an effective way to provide transportation. That’s why you don’t see a lot of San Antonians joining you.” But some people speculated the lack of local participation meant the San Antonio handicapped community either is afraid to speak out or did not have transportation to get to the demonstration by ADAPT members from other parts of the country, including Denver and New York. While yesterday’s demonstrators did not include San Antonians, a local handicapped man was summoned by Police Chief Charles Rodriguez to help mediate. "There is a definitely a problem here in San Antonio,” said Tommy Leifester, who calls himself a local leading handicapped rights activist. He said the city’s van system that transports the handicapped has several inadequacies, including a requirement that users must request service up to a week in advance. “If I don’t have a medical certificate and prior approval by VIA Transit, then I don’t ride,” he said. “There’s a judge and a jury who says you can ride a bus. A normal person doesn’t need a medical qualification to ride a bus.” ADAPT leaders said they have asked transit association leaders to introduce a resolution to the full APTA membership proposing the handicapped be provided equal accessibility to public transportation. Ford told the demonstrators the APA board’s policy allows officials from various transit authorities to decide the best ways of serving handicapped people in their separate communities. “APTA has no power to force its attitudes on its members,” he said. “The local option makes sense.” Ford yesterday did grant ADAPT leaders their request to publish an article in APTA’s trade magazine by September. “We got one tiny concession out of the president, ADAPT leader Jean Stewart said after the meeting. “They are utterly in contempt of the needs of the disabled.” The protesters requested VIA officials endorse the resolution to provide public transportation to the disabled and to establish a forum in which the disabled community would be allowed to participate. Cook promised to plan a forum. Stewart said the local community has long supported ADAPT’s proposal of a multi-modal system with both lift equipped buses and door-to-door service.
ADAPT (189)
San Antonio Light, April 21, 1985 Viewpoint Thomas F. Brereton [Headline] Give handicapped the transit they deserve PHOTO: Head shot of a man in suit and tie, with a beard and moustach. He is smiling, and he appears to be Brereton. San Antonio's convention calendar features an unwanted bonus this weekend: some out of town demonstrators who have vowed to disrupt a conference at the Hyatt, in order to focus attention on a neglected national issue. The American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) are the unwelcome guests at the American Public Transit Association's western regional conference. They have been similarly unwelcome guests at APTA conferences in Denver, San Diego, and Washington, D.C., where 28 members were arrested for civil disobedience last October. So now San Antonio's VIA Metropolitan Transit gets to take its turn playing cat's paw to make their point. ADAPT's demand is a simple one: civil rights for the handicapped, specifically the right to ride the same bus as everyone else. This means requiring public transit systems to make all of their mainline services fully accessible, particularly by installing wheelchair lifts instead of relying exclusively on separate “para-transit” services like VIA-Trans. They contend that this dual service system is a segregationist anachronism: 25 years ago blacks could at least ride in the back of the bus: today the handicapped still can't even get on board. At first blush, it may seem hard to believe that a person who is wheelchair-bound would really prefer to struggle to and from the bus stop in order to ride a regular bus, rather than being picked up and delivered door-to-door in a specially equipped van. But there are some real problems with a van service which makes it inherently less usable than full access to the regular transit network. First there is the matter of registration. In order to ride VIA-Trans, you have to be certified by a physician or a social service agency as completely unable to use the regular bus. As a result, there are only about 7000 people registered in Bexar County. Estimates of the potentially eligible “mobility-impaired" population range from 12,000 to 52,000, depending on whose definition you accept. Out of town visitors, of course, have a special difficulty of making arrangements in advance. Then there is the matter of time. You have to call and make a reservation at least two hours ahead, and preferably a couple of days. This may be okay if you know you have a doctors appointment every Wednesday at 2 o'clock. but it is no way to go out drinking with your friends on the spur of the moment. And since this is a shared-ride system, you will probably have to leave a lot earlier than you would like, and then to endure a long, circuitous journey to your destination, while other passengers are picked up and dropped off en route. So imagine yourself now in a wheelchair. Which would you rather do: Wheel yourself down to the nearest bus stop to get on a bus and go whereever it takes you, or call VIA-Trans a couple of days in advance to make a reservation? You don't have to buy ADAPT's tactics in order to see their point. Handicapped people naturally want to be as independent as possible, with a minimum of degrading “special privileges." On the other side, transit authority spokesmen ridicule the demand for wheelchair lifts as economically prohibitive and technically impractical. A study by the National Research Council's Transportation Research Board estimates the total additional cost of operating a fully accessible fixed-route bus system at about $2,000 per year per lift-equipped bus. But unlike VIA-Trans, where more riders automatically mean more vans and drivers - at an average actual cost of $l0.70 per trip — this cost does not increase appreciably with greater use by the handicapped. Opponents of accessible transit also object that the wheelchair lifts break down too often. And, you would have to take some regular seats out of the bus, to provide space to secure the wheelchairs. And the requirements of operating the lift would throw the bus off schedule, because the driver would have to take extra time to assist the passenger. In reality, the actual number of times per day you would have to stop the bus to use this lift makes nonsense of this argument. But what about the problem of getting to and from the bus stop, along streets without curb cuts and often without sidewalks? This objection is an excuse for not solving one problem because there are other problems beyond it. If you were in a wheelchair, you would probably need to live in a different house, too. You would consider this a factor before you moved. Note that this is not an either/or proposition, between specialized vans and lift-equipped buses. The same study by the Transportation Research Board estimates that only 30 percent of the "severely transportation handicapped" could use an accessible fixed-route bus. The other 70 percent — those on medication, with mental impairments or multiple handicaps — would still need to rely on VIA-Trans, taxicabs, or other means to get around. To me. this whole argument is pretty one-sided. The real clincher is the simple fact that other cities have already done what VIA says is impossible: to provide full accessibility on their mainline services. The old excuses won't wash anymore. it's time we stopped putting a price tag on people's dignity and independence. Tom Brereton is a former professor of urban studies at Trinity University.
ADAPT (221)
[no source or date included] ADAPT has been targeting APTA because of a lawsuit which APTA filed and ultimately won. Under the Carter Administration, the Department of Transportation (DOT) issued regulations in response to 504, which required all new buses to have wheelchair lifts. APTA filed suit saying that congress didn't intend 504 to put undue financial demands on the local transit authorities. The requirement for every bus to be lift-equipped was costly and cumbersome. APTA lost in the lower court, but appealed. The appeals court agreed with APTA that 504 didn?t mandate that all buses be lift-equipped. At present, every transit authority must make an effort to provide service to the elderly and disabled populations. There is an upper limit on the amount of money which must be spent on this service. Since para-transit is an expensive way to provide transportation services, the demand often exceeds the service available. California and Michigan have state laws requiring fully accessible transportation. In other states, transit authorities have started removing lifts from buses saying it is their "local option" to provide a fixed amount of para-transit instead of providing fixed route service. ADAPT promises to see APTA next year in Detroit.
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IF HEAVEN ISN'T ACCESSIBLE, GOD IS IN TROUBLE by Tari Susan Hartman Reprinted from Incitement, A publication of Atlantis/ADAPT [This article appears in ADAPT 1764 & 1773 but is completely included here for easier reading.] ADAPT mourns the loss of one of our greatest leaders, Wade Blank, and his son Lincoln. while on a family vacation in Todos Santos, Mexico, Lincoln got caught in an ocean undertow. Wade swam out to save him and both drowned on February 25th, 1993. They are survived by Wade's wife Molly and daughters Heather and Caitlin. Ironically, Wade died in the same way he lived swimming out into the face of hostile under currents, and giving his life to help others fight for theirs, Those who have come to national ADAPT actions remember in the early days Lincoln rode along on Wade's back. Later, he walked by wade's side while Caitlin rode. with his elfish smile, Lincoln quietly drank in all the action at demonstrations, vigils, planning meetings and anything else that came up in his dad's activist life. while other kids play "doctor" or "house", Lincoln played "rally." Wade was born December 4, 1940 in Pittsburgh, PA. After attending an all white high school, he travelled with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to Selma on a dare by a black college roommate. His experiences there taught him the deep oppression perpetuated by our "civilized" society. Once he graduated college, he served as pastor of a church just outside of Kent, Ohio that became the underground meeting place for the Students for a Democratic Society, SDS. After the Kent State killings, he returned to get a masters degree from McCormick Theological Seminary and was ordained a Presbyterian minister. Burnt out on his past activism and organizing, he moved to Denver and began working in a nursing home. with years of civil rights, war on poverty and antiwar organizing experience, he could not ignore the oppression he found there. So he began to deliver Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream of freedom directly to the doorstep of the disability ghetto: the nursing home. In 1971, while on staff at Heritage House, a Denver nursing home, Wade tried to work within the system to dignify the lives of the young disabled residents. A recent ABC—TV movie with Fred Savage entitled "When You Remember Me" chronicled this story. Wade and the resident's efforts were doomed to fail, but they gave birth to a better alternative. In 1974 Wade founded the Atlantis Community a model for community-based and consumer controlled independent living center named for the lost continent of Atlantis, those easily forgotten and dismissed. The first members of Atlantis were those young adults incarcerated in Heritage House, from which Wade had been fired. Forgotten by the system and often by their families, these individuals were not forgotten by Wade as he began to liberate them from the nursing home into the Atlantis Community. Years later Wade and attorney John Holland masterminded a $32 million lawsuit against Heritage House nursing home for obstruction of justice and violation of civil rights. The case went all the way to the US Supreme Court. Today many of those original nursing home residents are raising families in homes they now own. In 1978 Wade and Atlantis realized that if people with disabilities were to truly live independently, they would need, and should have a right to, accessible public transportation. On July 5-6. 1978 a "gang of nineteen" disability activists and Wade held their first inaccessible bus hostage in the Denver intersection of Broadway and Colfax. Late that night Wade was surprised when US Congresswoman Pat Schroeder handed him a doughnut and a cup of coffee. Atlantis‘ decision to take the fight for lifts on buses to the national level soon led to the birth of ADAPT (American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit. ADAPT was the nation's first direct action, grass-roots movement of disability activists and mushroomed in over 30 states, Canada, Sweden and England. Like the freedom riders of the 60s, ADAPT's struggle for accessible public transit became a national battle cry of the 80s. Over the course of eight years of biannual national demonstrations throughout the country, hundreds of ADAPT activists and their families and friends were arrested for their beliefs and commitment to ensure civil rights for all disabled citizens. Twelve years after the first bus seize, the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA, mandated lifts on buses. ADAPT's street chant "access is a civil right" echoed in the halls of Congress, as politicians became increasingly aware that ADAPT and the disability rights movement fully expected ADA to be passed as landmark civil rights legislation. ADAPT organized the "wheels of Justice" march in March of 1990, and Wade played a key role. It was a call-- to— action that galvanized the disability rights movement to demand swift passage of ADA with no weakening amendments. Over 1,000 disability rights activists from across the nation joined forces with ADAPT to demonstrate to the world that they were to be taken seriously. On the second anniversary of the signing of the ADA (July 25, 1992), the city of Denver and its Regional Transit District commemorated that historic event by dedicating a plaque to Atlantis/ADAPT and the "gang of nineteen" who held the first bus. Wade refused to have his name engraved on the plaque, but his silent tears at the dedication ceremony revealed the depth with which he felt the issues of disability rights. He had left his mark forever etched in the foundation of our civil rights movement. In 1990, when it was clear that ADAPT had successfully led and won the fight for accessible public transportation with the passage of the ADA, wade and other national ADAPT leaders convened to plot their next course of action. There was little question for anyone what that next issue would be. ADAPT transformed its mission and became "American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today." Together, ADAPT and wade returned to the scene of one of society's most heinous crimes the warehousing of 1.6 million disabled men, women and children. These disabled Americans committed no crime, yet were and still are, interred against their will, in nursing homes, state schools and other institutions. They are used as the crop of industries like the nursing home lobby, physicians and their conglomerate owners who continue to get rich by robbing our people of their fundamental civil, human and inalienable rights to life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Most of us are spectators sitting on the sidelines of life, learning history from books. Wade, was an active participant in over three decades of political organizing. He taught others how to create and record their own destiny. A brilliant strategist, he helped shape the tide of the disability rights movement. Yet Wade was never too busy to roll up his sleeves and assist someone with attendant services, push or repair a chair or drive a van. He stood up for what he believed in and expected others to do the same. In his Pursuit to free others from the chains of oppressions he was arrested 15 times and proud of it! Several weeks ago Wade Blank's story, including the development of Atlantis and ADAPT, was officially accepted into the National Archives. Wade, a passionate Cleveland Browns fan, was a loving husband, daddy, friend, organizer and leader. He valued and encouraged the unique contributions that each of us has to give to ourselves, each other and the world around us. We honor his contribution, value his friendship, and grieve the loss of our beloved friend and colleague. Wade was one of the few non disabled allies of the disability rights movement who understood the politics of oppression. At times through the years, his leadership role was questioned, but he never lost sight of the vision, nor lacked the support of those he was close with. Photo by Tom Olin: Wade Blank and Mike Auberger sitting on either side of the plaque honoring the Gang of 19. Caption reads: Co-Directors Wade Blank and Mike Auberger reflect on the past decade of organizing and activism.
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The San Diego Union, Sunday, February 10, 1985, B-4 PHOTO by United Press International/Paul Richards: 11 people in wheelchairs sit facing away from the camera, beside a Trailways bus. The group includes Bob Conrad who is closest the bus door, and Beverly Furnice who is closest to the camera. They are looking at Wade Blank, who stands beside the bus and it looks like Mike Auberger is addressing the group. Caption reads: A dozen members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation block departure of this Trailways bus after a member was refused a ticket. [Headline] Wheelchair-bound stop Trailways bus By Ric Bucher, Staff Writer Claude Holcomb tried to take a 4:15 pm. Trailways bus from the depot on State and C streets to Los Angeles yesterday, but he was not allowed to buy a ticket. There were only two passengers aboard, but Holcomb is confined to a wheelchair. Trailways buses are not accessible to people in wheelchairs. “I have a friend in L.A.,” Holcomb spelled out on a homemade message board he uses to communicate. “I have to fly from L.A. to Hartford, Conn., tomorrow.” Holcomb lives in Hartford. Shortly before the bus was due to depart, Holcomb, 24, along with 11 other members of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT), hemmed the bus in with their wheelchairs and refused to move. Police officers arrived at 4:35 p.m. and told the group that they were breaking the law by obstructing traffic and trespassing. The ADAPT members will appear at the American Public Transportation Association's (APTA) meeting this morning. They have been granted 30 minutes to air their plea for both wheelchair-accessible transit buses on both local and interstate lines. Twenty of 29 San Diego Transit bus routes have wheelchair access, but no such equipment is in use on intercity or interstate public buses. Joe Carle, an ADAPT community organizer in Denver, parked his wheelchair in front of the bus and tilted back his black felt cowboy hat. “This may seem like it’s drastic,” he said, “but it’s the only way to open people’s eyes. ... What good is it if a person has to stay in a one-block area?” Similar demonstrations were held recently in Denver and Washington, D.C., in conjunction with scheduled APTA meetings. Carle said the attitude toward the disabled seems to be “we'll do everything we can to keep you alive, but we don’t want you around.” He said ADAPT was specifically focusing on Trailways and Greyhound Bus Lines because they are owned by companies who manufacture their own buses, yet refuse to construct them to accommodate wheelchairs. The bus driver and two passengers, Michael Calloway, 23, and Claude Williams, 26, got off the bus and waited inside the depot. “I think they (the disabled) have the right to board the bus,” Calloway said. Williams nodded his head in agreement. “It throws us off schedule, but I’d like to see something done about it (bus access for the disabled). I don’t think it’s right for them to (delay the bus) but I understand. Sometimes it takes a little push and shove to get things done." Able-bodied Wade Blank organized the group's meeting at the bus station. Blank is one of the six founders of ADAPT. Two years ago, he adopted Heather, a 14-year-old girl confined to a wheelchair, and married her mother. He described the attitude toward the disabled as “just another ‘ism’ — paternalism. It's just like racism and sexism.” After police told the group they were breaking the law, Mike Auberger, spokesman for the wheelchair group, asked to speak with the manager of the terminal, Fred Kroner, who was summoned from his home in Chula Vista. Kroner spoke with Auberger and his group at the door of the bus. He was asked to set up a meeting in Denver with Trailways’ national representatives. “For what?” Kroner asked “To talk about making these buses accessible," said Auberger. Fifteen minutes later, Kroner said he could reach no one, and gave Auberger the phone number of Roger Rydell, vice president in charge of public relations at Trailways’ Dallas headquarters. The group let the bus leave. “I won't be satisfied until these buses are accessible,” Auberger said, “but this is the first step in the process.”
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San Francisco Bay Guardian 9/23/87 Disabled to march for transit access By: Cheryl Davis When members of the American Public Transit Association gather in San Francisco during the last week of September, they will be met by disabled people from across the country who plan to demonstrate against a national transit policy they say is unfair because it separates them from other transit users. Specifically, disabled activists intend to protest the widespread use of special vans to transport disabled riders door-to-door, a system commonly referred to as “paratransit.” That system, they say, is a form of segregation. In its place, they argue, all buses and trains should be equipped to accommodate people in wheelchairs as part of as overall policy fully integrating the disabled into society. “Full accessibility,” they argue, is a right that should not be denied because of cost. Paratransit is impractical as well as offensive, disabled transit riders say. Burr Overstreet, a Santa Rosa man who uses a wheelchair, called paratransit “a paternalistic system that screws people over, costs a fortune and it’s the first thing cut during economic downturns.” Paratransit users “are made to feel like helpless hospital patients,” Les Treece-Sinclair, a wheelchair user and staff person at the September Alliance for Accessible Transportation, a Northern California coalition, told the Bay Guardian. Most Bay Area transit districts, including the San Francisco Municipal Railway, use a combination of buses with lifts and paratransit vans for disabled and elderly patrons, and California law requires that all new buses be equipped with lifts. Local transit agencies have a good reputation nationally for working closely with disabled and elderly patrons. But, even so, there are problems. “Supposedly we [in Marin] have one of the better systems,” Overstreet said. “The combination of fixed-route and paratransit should in theory be fairly effective, but it’s not. The paratransit only runs Monday through Friday, 9 am to 3 pm. Disabled riders have to reserve in advance and disabled people who work cannot use such a paratransit system either to work or to socialize.” “Paratransit doesn’t come close to meeting the transport need of elderly and handicapped people,” said Treece-Sinclair. “At the moment, on many bus lines only every third or fourth bus will be accessible.” Jose Rodriguez, a public information officer for the Metropolitan Transit Commission, told the Bay Guardian Bay Area transit districts “are working hard to meet a basic level of service but we are aware of the need for improvement. As always, this is contingent on securing needed funds.” The debate between disabled people and much of the public transit industry centers around interpretations of Section 504 of the 1973 Rehabilitation Act, which states that persons with handicaps cannot be discriminated against under any program receiving federal funds. Since mass transit relies heavily on federal funds, Section 504 serves as a rallying point for disabled activists who argue for making all public transit wheelchair-accessible. The U.S. Department of Transportation in 1979 issued regulations that required full wheelchair access on newly ordered buses and called for retrofitting existing buses and modifying portions of existing rail systems to accommodate disabled users. Disable activists applauded the regulations, but APTA lobbied Congress vigorously, claiming the regulations were costly, unworkable and designed to reach only a small percentage of the disabled population. A 1979 Congressional Budget Office report supported APTA’s claims and called instead for paratransit systems. APTA sued to overturn DOT’s regulations and the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia ruled in 1981 that the regulations exceeded the scope of the Rehabilitation Act. DOT interim regulations gave local communities the option of determining levels of accessibility and many transit districts opted for paratransit. Paratransit advocates argue that outfitting buses with lifts and other special equipment is too expensive, given the number of disabled riders. Santa Clara County Supervisor Tom Legan, for example, said at a January board meeting, “We’re spending $3.5 million per year [maintaining] lifts for what amounts to 57 boardings per year.” But disabled activists say the official estimates of disabled ridership are too low. Palo Alto resident Brian Bolitho, who uses a wheelchair, told the Bay Guardian his commute to work alone account for more than 200 boardings per year on Santa Clara buses. Dennis Cannon, a transportation, specialist the federal Architectural and Transportation Barriers Compliance Board, told the Bay Guardian, “The actual use of accessible buses could be five times higher, or more, than transit agency estimates. The driver often simply guesses the number of obviously disabled passengers.” Much of the expense of repairing lifts, Cannon added, could be avoided by improved maintenance and better training of bus operators. Some APTA members, Canon said, are reappraising the adequacy of paratransit. James Lee, accessibility coordinator for Alameda County Transit, agreed. “Since 1976, study after study has documented the inadequacy of paratransit. It is not cost-effective, nor is it demand responsive,” he told the Bay Guardian.
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Denver Post [This article continues on in ADAPT 123, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] Photo by Lyn Alweis: A short haired man in a jacket and dark slacks [Mel Conrardy] is lifted in his wheelchair from the sidewalk to a bus. The lift comes out of the front door of the bus and has railings on either side of the lift almost as tall as the seated man. Just by the bus door is a sign on the side of the bus that says "RTD Welcome Aboard." Caption: An RTD bus with wheelchair lift provides mobility for Mel Conrardy Title: Leaders of handicapped rate RTD service best in country By Norm Udevitz, Denver Post Staff Writer Disabled Denverites just a few years ago had as much chance of riding a bus as they did of climbing Mount Everest. “It was brutal the way RTD treated us,” said Mike Auberger, an official in the Atlantis Community, for the disabled and a leader in the fight that has turned the Regional Transportation District’s handicapped service around. In the 1970s and early 1980s, RTD busses then rarely equipped with wheelchair lifts, often left wheelchair-bound riders stranded on streets. Drivers, lacking training in dealing with visually or language impaired people, panicked when blind or deaf riders tried to board buses. “It used to be that even in the dead of winter, when it was below zero, those of us in wheelchairs would wait 2 or 3 hours for a bus to finally stop," Auberger recalls. “And often the lift was broken and we couldn't get on the bus anyway. And usually the drivers were rude and angry. They would tell us that we were ruining their schedules." But conditions have changed, Auberger says: “Right now, Denver has the most accessible public transit system for the handicapped — and all the public - in the country." Debbie Ellis, a state social services worker who heads the agency's Handicapped Advisory Council, agrees, saying: “It took a lot of pressure, but RTD has responded and now the bus system is doing a good job of serving the handicapped." Leaders of national programs for the disabled also agree. In fact, the President's Committee on Employment of the Handicapped will bring 5,000 delegates, many of them handicapped, to its national conference in Denver in April. This will be the first time in four decades the group has held its national session outside of Washington DC. “One of the key reasons we're meeting in Denver this year is because it just might be the most comfortable city in the country for the handicapped,” says Sharon Milcrut, head of the Colorado Coalition for Persons with Disabilities, which is hosting the conference. “A very important aspect of that comfort," she notes, “is how accessible the transit system is for the handicapped.” It didn't get that way easily. In the decade between 1974 and 1984, handicapped activists had to pressure indifferent RTD administrators and directors. Each gain was hard won. “We used every tactic in the book, from lawsuits to bus blockades on the street and sit-ins at the RTD offices," says Wade Blank, an Atlantis group director. “The lawsuits didn't help much but when we took to the streets in the late 1970s, I think that's when we started getting their attention." Blank and others also say the 1984 hiring of Ed Colby as RTD general manager helped. Before he arrived, less than half of the 750 RTD buses had wheelchair lifts, which often were in disrepair. Training for drivers to learn how to deal with handicapped riders was minimal. Agency directors resisted change. RTD relied heavily on a costly special van operation called Handyride - a door-to-door pickup service for handicapped. It has cost $13[? glare makes number hard to read] million to run since it began in 1975. “Over the past couple of years the turnaround has been phenomenal," Auberger says. “All of RTD's new buses are being ordered with lifts and older buses are being retrofitted." By 1986's end, almost 80 percent of the bus fleet — 608 of 765 buses — had wheelchair lifts; 82 percent of the fleet's 6,242 daily trips are now accessible for the disabled. Plans call for the fleet to be 100 percent lift-equipped by 1987's end. “The lifts aren't breaking down all the time now, either," Auberger said, noting that agency officials found drivers had neglected to report broken lifts: “That way the lifts stayed broken and drivers had an excuse for not picking us up. A bunch of people were fired over that and others realized that Colby wasn't kidding about improving handicapped service." Driver training also has improved dramatically. “It isn't perfect yet,” Ellis of the advisory council says. "But everyone is working hard at it. What we are finding is that 20 percent of the drivers understand that they are moving people, all kinds of people, and they're really great with the handicapped. “Another 20 percent figure their job is to move buses and to heck with passengers, all kinds of passengers. That bottom 20 percent probably won't ever change. So we're working real hard on the 60 percent in between," Ellis says. Drivers, for example, learn to help blind riders. “That’s an improvement that helps the disabled, but it also helps regular passengers who are newcomers to the city,” Ellis says. All the improvements haven't come cheap. Since 1974, more than $5million has been spent on lifts and lift maintenance, most of the expense was incurred in the last three years. RTD plans to spend $9 million more in the next six years to keep the fleet up to its current standards and pay for more driver training. Another $4 million will be spent on HandyRide service. Ironically, Auberger and Ellis both say one of the biggest problems remaining is getting more handicapped people to use mass transit. “There are no reliable figures," Ellis says. “But we think there are about 20,000 handicapped people in the metro area and only about 200 or 300 are using buses on a regular basis." Auberger, confined to a wheelchair after breaking his neck in an accident ll years ago, complains: “The medical system builds a bubble around handicapped people and makes them think they have to be protected. "That's just not true in most cases. So one of the things we're doing now is educating the handicapped to overcome their fears. We've finally got a bus system that works for us and we want the disabled to use it." Photo by Lyn Alweis: A rather straight looking man [Mel Conrardy] in a white jacket, big mittens, and a motorized wheelchair, wears a slight smile as he rides the bus. Someone in a dark jacket stands beside him, and behind him, further back on the bus, other riders are sitting on the bus seats. Caption reads: A bus seat folds up to anchor Mel Conrardy's wheelchair to the floor. Conrardy commutes to work at the Atlantis Community.
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Austin American-Statesman Sunday, October 25, 1987 Lifestyle section Title: Streetcars and Desire Activist couple dedicate lives to tearing down walls between city buses and the disabled By Carlos Vidal Greth, American-Statesman Staff (This is a compilation of the article that is on ADAPT 354 and ADAPT 353. The content is all included here for easier reading.) Most visitors to the Bay Area relish the opportunity to hop a cable car and "climb halfway to the stars," as Tony Bennett croons in his signature song, I Left My Heart in San Francisco. Stephanie Thomas, organizer for Americans Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, had other ideas. "To mobility-impaired people, keeping those historic symbols of public transit alive memorializes inaccessibility and makes it seem like a positive thing," she said. ADAPT, a national civil-rights group, strives to make it easier for disabled people to ride city buses. They differ from mainstream disability-rights groups in that members sometimes commit acts of civil disobedience when the usual political channels clog or hit a dead end. Thomas, her husband Bob Kafka, and eight other Austinites went to San Francisco in late September to conduct a protest during the national convention of the American Public Transit Association, a lobbying organization. Kafka and 15 others were arrested when they climbed out of their wheelchairs and staged a sit-in at the cable car turnaround at Powell and Market streets. Thomas was arrested twice, once for blocking a shuttle bus and once for blocking a cable car. "I've been arrested eight times or so," she said. "I've lost count. Bob has been arrested 14 times. The police are usually aware it's a demonstration about civil rights, and that we're not out to hurt their city. But it's scary. We're not automatons. Some members break down and cry when they go to prison." As far as Thomas is concerned, the suffering has been worth it. "The demonstrations got national exposure. More important, we got the transit association's attention. They are beginning to listen." Thomas, who is also executive director of the Coalition of Texans With Disabilities, could sit for a poster portrait of the committed political activist. Her shock of amber hair shifts of its own accord like the wind ruffling a field of grain. Wide, blue eyes fix visitors with the riveting gaze of a woman who believes she fights for what is right. She was born 30 years ago in New York to parents who fought for justice in their way. Her father organized political campaigns and worked for arms control. Her mother, a writer, was involved in the women's movement. "Mom taught me to question people's perceptions," Thomas said. "The women's and disabled movements have something in common: We're defined by our bodies. You have to fight that all the time." Her first protest occurred when she was in elementary school. Mothers in the apartment building where her family lived wanted to establish a day-care center. The owners didn't want to provide the space. "Women and children took over the building," Thomas said. "We weren't angry college protestors. We were non-threatening moms and kids. But our presence made a difference." Despite her progressive upbringing, she was a shy girl who hid from the world behind the covers of books. When she was 17, her legs were paralyzed when she fell off a farm tractor while doing chores. What could have been a tragedy turned her life around. "I realized that life doesn't go on forever, and that you need to make the most of every moment," Thomas said. Thomas attended Harvard, where she and other disabled students organized a group to help make campus more accessible. "When I look back, I see we were very tame,” she said. “We were polite but usually got what we asked for.” Over the years, Thomas became increasingly active in disability rights. She got involved in independent living centers, communities of disabled people supporting one another so they can live with dignity outside institutions. In the early 1980s, she joined the Austin Resources Center for Independent Living. She went to work for the Coalition of Texans With Disabilities in 1985. The 9-year-old coalition lobbies for, represents and coordinates 90 organizations (including ADAPT) concerned with disabilities, as well as the more than 2 million disabled Texans. “It is the collective voice for the disabled in Texas,” said Kaye Beneke, spokeswoman for the Texas Rehabilitation Commission. "They’re committed - the members live every day with the problems they try to solve. “Stephanie understands there’s a spectrum of political views in the coalition, which tend to be more middle-of-the-road than ADAPT. She takes responsibility for the representing of all those views. But don’t call the coalition passive. They’ve had their way in the legislature and on the local level.” As a leader in two of Texas major disability-rights organizations, Thomas has her hands full. It helps having Bob Kafka, who broke his back in a car accident in 1973, at her side. The experienced trouble maker -- albeit trouble for a good cause -- has made a name for himself. He won the Governor’s Citation for Meritorious Service in 1986. Appropriately, Kafka met Thomas at a disability-rights conference. “Stephanie was real involved, real committed and real attractive,” he said. Sharing home and office has increased their commitment to the cause they serve- and to each other. “Bob and I are an activist couple,” Thomas said. “It’s intense because we work so closely. But it’s rewarding. It has made us an incredibly tight couple.” Thomas has to rework her concept of activism when she joined ADAPT. “Demonstrations force the public to look at disabled people in a different light,” she said. “The cripple is the epitome of powerlessness. We say we’re sorry if it scares you to look at me, but we have to live our lives.” Confrontation, however can cost allies as well as foes. This year, the Paralyzed Veterans of America severed ties with ADAPT and any organization "advocating illegal civil disobedience.” “Our charter states that we must act in accordance with the laws of the land,” said Phil Rabin, director of education. “To act otherwise would be to violate our charter. “The veterans and ADAPT members share first-hand the frustration of living in a society that is not accessible to the disabled. We don’t want to fight ADAPT. It’s a waste of precious resources to divert our energies.” Though Thomas’ group is controversial, it has achieved many of its goals. Albert Engleken, deputy executive director for the American Public Transit Association in Washington, D.C., acknowledged that ADAPT’s street theater has had some effect. In September his organization created a task force to study the issue of providing service for disabled, he said. Engelken, however is not a convert to their cause. “ADAPT wants a lift on every transit bus in the country,” Engelken said. “We believe it should be left to local transit authorities to decide how to handle transportation for disabled people. Transit officials are not robber barons. We’re paid by the public to provide the most mobility for the most people.” Thomas knows how to work within the system. Ben Gomez, director of development for Capital Metro, said ADAPT members have been effective on the Mobility Impaired Service Advisory Committee, which makes recommendations on service to the transit authority board of directors. “They’re well-organized,” Gomez said. “We don’t always agree on the approach and issues. We’ve made many of the adjustments they’ve asked for, but not always within their time frame.” The concessions have been gratifying, but Thomas has only begun to fight. “ADAPT took a dead issue änd made it hot again,” she said. For information on American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation, write to ADAPT of Texas, 2810 Pearl, Austin 78705/ To learn more about the Coalition of Texans With Disabilities, call 443-8252, or write to P.O. Box 4709, Austin 78765. [curator note: addresses and phone numbers no longer valid] Staff Photo by Mike Boroff: A man (Bob Kafka) with Canadian (wrist cuff) crutches, a plaid shirt, light colored jeans and sneakers sits in the lap of a woman (Stephanie Thomas) with wild big hair and a button down shirt. She is sitting in a manual wheelchair. Caption reads: "Bob and I are an activist couple,” says Stephanie Thomas who met Bob Kafka at a rights conference. “It’s intense because we work so closely. But it’s rewarding.” Photo by Russ Curtis: A group of protesters are looking up at something over their heads and their mouths are open shouting. In the front of the picture a woman in a manual wheelchair (Stephanie Thomas) is sitting on a line on the pavement that reads passenger zone. She has her finger raised pointing and is wearing a t-shirt with the ADAPT no-steps logo. Beside her is a man (Jim Parker) with a headband looking back over his shoulder, beside him another man in a wheelchair. Behind Jim stands a woman (Babs Johnson) with her arms by her sides and her mouth open yelling. Behind her a line of other protesters is arriving. Caption reads: ADAPT organizer Stephanie Thomas traveled to San Francisco to participate in a rally protesting the policies of the American Public Transit Association.