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ADAPT (11)
The Denver Post Denver Post PHOTO: A thin young man (Mike Smith) lies in bed wrapped in sheets. His long dark hair is laid out on the pillow above his head, and his dark eyebrows, beard and moustache frame his features. He looks with a burning intensity up and someone (mostly out of the picture), who is holding a book. caption reads: MIKE SMITH WATCHES AS AN ATTENDANT READS SOME OF HIS POEMS. He is confined to bed at Atlantis Community, which was plagued by foulups. [Headline] MIKE SMITH'S' DREAM [Subheading] Atlantis Battles Delay, Foulups By FRED GILLIES Denver Post Staff Writer "Realize...Realize..." The words came in a strange, guttural tone from the young man lying semiconscious on the bed, breathing life-giving oxygen through tubes running from a tank nearby. Mike Smith, 21, had been severely drained by the ravages of muscular dystrophy, his grim companion since birth. Yet, early last week as Mike lay unconscious for the third day, he seemed to radiate a private kind of peace and serenity in this small bedroom overlooking a busy Denver highway. Realize. . . For Mike Smith, realization of the promise and the hope of freedom for himself and seven other handicapped persons came when they became the first residents of the Atlantis Community, opened June 1 at the Las Casitas Housing Development in southwest Denver. At Las Casitas, in a pioneering experiment in personal fulfillment, they reside in their own apartments, set their own rules, and, as far as the handicapped can, manage their own lives. Gently, an attendant stroked Mike’s forehead, bent near him and whispered words which only he might have heard. His mother, Mrs. Joanne Davis, stood nearby and said Mike had “come home” to the place where he wanted to be, to the freedom he had sought so long for himself and other handicapped persons. But a threat to this hard-won freedom arose shortly after Atlantis was started. Mike and four other handicapped persons at Atlantis found they had become victims of the slow-moving, computerized bureaucracy of the federal Social Security Administration. And unnecessary hardships and worry had been created for the Atlantis residents by on incredible delay on the part of the U.S. postal system in Denver and the acknowledged poor judgment of a Lakewood nursing home. Mike and the four other Atlantis residents were depending heavily on their Social Security checks to pay for their food, rent, attendants’ services and other expenses at Atlantis. But these checks didn't arrive on time early in June. Atlantis officials obtained some emergency financial help, partly through Denver's food stamp office, but it wasn't enough. And one day early last week, an attendant at Atlantis was trying to plan a dinner meal which he hoped would cost about 40 cents for each Atlantis resident. But it shouldn't have come to this point of desperation. [Subheading] PLANNED CAREFULLY Mike, other Atlantis residents and staff members had planned carefully for this major change in their lives. In mid-May, they had contacted the Social Security Administration in Lakewood, detailing their plans and indicating they would be leaving their nursing home and beginning a new way of life. This change would make them eligible for higher Social Security payments to meet their increased expenses. Social Security officials in Lakewood accepted this information for input in the administration's national computer. And at that time, a Social Security official at the Lakewood office also advised the handicapped persons to file change-of-address cards with the Denver Post Office. If this were done, the official said, the handicapped persons' Social Security checks would be sent on time to Atlantis, rather than being held up at the nursing home which most of the eight handicapped persons would be leaving June 1. Wade Blank, Atlantis‘ co-director, took completed change-of-address cards for all future Atlantis residents to the South Denver postal station, three days before the changes were to take effect. And a South Denver postal employee said there should be "no problem" in forwarding the handicapped persons' Social Security checks to Atlantis early in June. [Subheading] SYSTEM FAILED But from that point, the system failed miserably. Four Social Security checks for Atlantis residents weren't forwarded to them at their Atlantis address early this month, but went instead to their old address at the Heritage House Nursing Care Center in Lakewood. A Heritage House clerk, although aware of the handicapped persons move to Atlantis, sent three of the checks back to the U.S. Treasury in Birmingham, causing computer delays [unreadable] in issuance [unreadable] checks. [unreadable] Social Security [unreadable] up at a garage [unreadable] street from Atlantis. This check either had been addressed incorrectly at Heritage House or delivered by the postman to the wrong address. An employee at the garage [unreadable] carried the check to Atlantis. [unreadable]the long postal [unreadable] involving the [unreadable] change of address cards. It took 13 days [unreadable] cards to make the 10 min journey from the South Denver postal station to the Belmar station by way of the post office's Terminal Annex. At Belmar, employes didn't follow postal regulations and send these cards immediately to Heritage House. This was not done until June 12, after an Atlantis representative contacted Belmar postal officials about the check delays. Responding to Denver Post inquiries, postal officials said they couldn’t explain the 13-day delay. [Subheading] RETURNED CHECK Another handicapped person, at Heritage House and then at Craig Rehabilitation Center before coming to Atlantis, didn't receive his Social Security check for June because Heritage House sent his May check back to the U.S. Treasury. This action placed the handicapped person's file "in suspense"- delaying issuance of future checks. Local postal and Social Security officials have told The Post they are -"distressed" over these situations. "It shouldn't have happened... I agree with this 100 per cent," said Thomas O'Halloran, administrator at Heritage House. But he said the Heritage House clerk was “just following my orders" to return checks to the sender when no forwarding address is available. However, O'Halloran acknowledged that the clerk knew of the Atlantis project and knew that the former Heritage House residents had gone to Atlantis. The clerk's judgment to send the checks back to the U.S. Treasury, rather than to Atlantis, "was not proper at that time," O'Halloran said. [Subheading] EVERYTHING 'COVERED’.. Everett Caldwell, branch manager of the Social Security office in Lakewood, said he thought “everything was covered" when the change-of-address cards were filed with the post office for the Atlantis residents. "We thought their checks would simply be forwarded," he said. But when the checks went to Heritage House, the nursing home should have contacted his office, Caldwell said." "And we should have clued in Heritage House—but we didn't do it,” Caldwell added. He acknowledged that Atlantis residents had given him data in time to make their increased Social Security payments. But Social Security's national computer, he explained, is set up so that it couldn't accept this data until June 1. when the change in the handicapped persons’ living status was to take effect. And that means about a 16-day delay before the checks arrive, he said. The Denver Post Office “knows that something went wrong, but we don't know exactly what it was," said Dick Sealer, the post offices Denver district director for customer services. By the time the change—of-address cards had been delivered tardily by the post office to Heritage House, “the damage had been done"- the checks had been returned to the Treasury, Sealer conceded. [Subheading] STEPS TAKEN Officials at both federal agencies and at Heritage House said late last week that steps have been taken to prevent a recurrence of this situation, and lapses in procedures will be corrected. Meanwhile, through Caldwell’s persistent efforts, three of the Atlantis residents have received part of their Social Security payments for June and other payments are expected to be made soon. Caldwell said, however, that he wished Atlantis had informed him sooner about the check delays. Because of those delays, Atlantis, still in in a precarious financial situation, according to Linda Chism, the project' accountant, funds that Atlantis [unreadable] to its recent drive for founder members were exhausted recently in paying Atlantis attendants’ salaries, she said. And she stresses that there still is a desperate need for donations from other persons who wish to become founder members of Atlantis, headquartered at 1232 Federal Boulevard. [Subheading] MIKE'S BATTLE For Mike Smith, it is a touch-and-go battle. Early last week, he regained consciousness and greeted his mother, with a cheerful “Hi, Mom!" By late last week, Mike still was confined to bed at Atlantis and still was using an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. Other medical assistance was being provided to Mike. But no matter what happens, Mike said then, Atlantis will succeed, because persons in this group have the driving desire to make it succeed. This intense desire is reflected in much of the highly imaginative and deeply moving poetry Mike has written over the years-- poetry which fills five notebooks. In the opening of one of these poems, Mike wrote of a final journey. But there also is something here which tells of his strong and enduring commitment to Atlantis and to those working so hard for its success. In this poem, Mike wrote: “I feel my spirit surging inside, Speeding and whirling along, Like a mighty March wind, blasting into April, Making the trees bow low for the royalty of the wind. Like a child of innocence, I see my dream before me. And I shall surpass any mountain, or ill or death itself . . .“ Photo Denver Post, David Cupp: A woman (Linda Chism) sits in a power chair with a lap board. Her short legs are extended straight in front of her and covered with cloth. She has a big smile, or laugh on her face. Caption reads: LINDA CHISM LAUGHS AS SHE ENJOYS A SPRING DAY. She says delays put Atlantis in precarious situation.
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The Denver Post, Tues., Dec. 30, 1975 [Headline] Best of 1975 These are the best pictures shot by three Denver Post photographers in 1975, in the opinion of the photographers themselves. [Atlantis picture is last.] [Top photo] Bill Peters caught the inherent majesty of Union Pacific's Engine 8444, one of the nearly extinct breed of steam locomotives, as it pulled into Denver's Union Station last January on an excursion for rail buffs. The 31-year-old engine, only operable steam locomotive in the UP system, now is kept in Cheyenne for such affairs. The road halted steam service on regular runs in 1962. [Center photo] Ernie Leyba, who has a good memory, recalled that shoeshines at the National Western Stock Show last January cost 75 cents. Business, he commented, was slow "to boot." [Bottom photo] Poet Mike Smith, during his last days. was photographed by David Cupp in his Atlantis community home. Smith's book of poetry, "Companions." was published shortly after his death on Oct. 1. Ellen Finch, an attendant at Atlantis, is with Smith. Photo of train on top by Bill Peters: The large dark engine of the train coming toward the photographer contrasts against the white of the snow dusted ground and steam coming from the train. Around this are the dark marks of the tracks coming through the snow, posts and tiny people on either side of the train appear dark against the steam and snow, and in the edges of the picture, the dark of the sky and buildings in the background. Caption - Modern diesel-electrics are more efficient, but they can't match the drama of an old-time steamer, wreathed in steam, as it puffs and snorts and whistles. Bill Peter's "best photograph of 1975 (taken last January) carries the idea of tremendous power as the Union Pacific engine pulls into Denver's union station. Photo on left middle, by Ernie Leyba: Two African American men sit on either side of a pair of shoe shine seats up on a typical riser. Above the seats, taped to the wall, is a sign that says "Shoe Shine $1.50." The men, both wearing hats, are waiting and appear to have been waiting for customers for some time. Everything looks somewhat worn, and there are large pieces of cardboard or paper on the ground around them. Caption - Inflation at 100 percent clip hit patrons at the National Western Stock show in January. The law of diminishing returns apparently hit the two entrepreneurs, to judge from the empty chairs, as recorded by Ernie Leyba, who recalled that the 1974 price was 75 cents. Photo on bottom, by David Cupp: A semi dark room with sun streaming in the window at the back. Silhouetted against the window is an oxygen tank. In the foreground a young man (Michael Smith) with dark beard lies in bed, sheets drawn up to his chin, and his long dark hair laid out on the pillow above his head. He is looking at a young woman (Ellen Finch) who sits by the bed on his left. She is wearing a kerchief and baggy top and fades into the darkness at the bottom edges of the photo. Caption - Despite extreme pain and weakness, Mike Smith composed poetry from his bed in Atlantis community. To David Cupp, this picture showed the triumph of the spirit. Mike died Oct. 1.
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The Denver Post - Thursday October 2, 1975 [Headline] Muscular Dystrophy Wins Battle [Subheading] Mike Died at Atlantis - a Dream Come True by Fred Gillies Michael Smith died Wednesday afternoon in the place where he wanted to be - the Atlantis Community in Denver. Atlantis was Mike's dream come true: a fledgling community where he and 13 other handicapped persons could live in dignity as individuals, attempting to realize their full potential. But the dream died Wednesday for Mike as muscular dystrophy, the dark angel that lived with him for most of his slightly more than 21 years, won the final battle. Mike and other Atlantis residents came into the public view late in June when a Denver Post story told of the hardships they were suffering as the result of bureaucratic bungling which had delayed the Social Security checks the Atlantis residents needed to pay their living expenses there. At that time, Mike was semiconscious and not expected to live. But he later rallied, as he had three other times in the past year when he was close to death. For the past three months, Mike generally had been confined to his bed and most of the time used an oxygen tank to ease his breathing. In recent weeks, Mike had started composing poetry again — one of his favorite pastimes and the one that seemed to allow, him to escape from the physical helplessness forced upon him by muscular dystrophy. Mike also was following closely the progress of a legal action that he and other handicapped persons had filed in Denver federal court to ensure the handicapped the same rights as all other persons. And with the help of Atlantis staff members, Mike was planning his first vacation in many years: a plane trip to Houston, Texas. Two of the Atlantis staff were to accompany him there. But last Sunday night, Mike's condition suddenly worsened. His kidneys apparently had started to shut down. Carbon dioxide was building up in his body, affecting the brain and causing respiratory problems. Mike was taken Monday to Denver General Hospital, where blood tests were completed. But Atlantis officials said doctors at the hospital concluded that there wasn't much that could be done. And Mike was adamant: he didn't want to undergo another operation to cut into his windpipe to ease his breathing just a little longer. He didn’t want to be hooked up to all kinds of machines and medical equipment. He wanted to be left alone and to he allowed to die in peace and at Atlantis. Mike was permitted to "come home" to Atlantis on Tuesday. But now he was required to wear a full face mask utilizing a nebulizer which sprayed a mixture of oxygen and water steadily into his weakening lungs. On Wednesday morning, Mike twice had been taken off the nebulizer briefly while adjustments were made, and there were no complications, Wade Blank, Atlantis co-director said. But Wednesday afternoon, after the nebulizer had been removed for another swift adjustment, Mike died. “He relaxed, went to sleep and just stopped breathing," said his mother, Mrs. Joanne Davis of Central City, Colo., who was with him. Mike’s mother will fulfill his wish that the only flowers at his funeral be one red rose which she will provide and keep afterward. Mike also had asked that persons planning to send flowers for his funeral might instead send donations to Atlantis at 2965 W. 11th Ave. Early last July, Mike and a friend put together a book of about 35 of Mike's poems, written over the past seven years. At the time of Mike's death, the manuscript still was being circulated among publishers. One of these poems - “With the Wind, I Leave" - tells of Mike’s leaving his love, “leaving the oceans, fields and mountains that were my life.” But then he tells of finding "a peace and wisdom that no one can take away.” And the poem concludes with Mike's quiet admonition: "So when you remember me, think of the oceans, fields and mountains. Think of the wind that blows in the spring and you will know that I am free." Services for Mike will be at 2 p.m. Saturday at the Olinger Mortuary, 16th and Boulder Sts. A copy of Mike's book of poems will be with him when he is cremated, as he had wished. Denver Post PHOTO: A thin young man (Mike Smith) lies in bed wrapped in sheets. His long dark hair is laid out on the pillow above his head, and his dark eyebrows, beard and moustache frame his features. He looks with a burning intensity up and someone (mostly out of the picture), who is holding a book. Caption reads: Mike Smith Listens as His Poetry is Read. He was photographed in June after moving to Atlantis.