- Dimensioni delle fotoQuadrata
Miniatura
XXS - minuscola
XS - piccolissima
✔ S - piccola
M - Media
L - Grande - LinguaAfrikaans Argentina AzÉrbaycanca
á¥áá áá£áá Äesky Ãslenska
áá¶áá¶ááááá à¤à¥à¤à¤à¤£à¥ বাà¦à¦²à¦¾
தமிழ௠à²à²¨à³à²¨à²¡ ภาษาà¹à¸à¸¢
ä¸æ (ç¹é«) ä¸æ (é¦æ¸¯) Bahasa Indonesia
Brasil Brezhoneg CatalÃ
ç®ä½ä¸æ Dansk Deutsch
Dhivehi English English
English Español Esperanto
Estonian Finnish Français
Français Gaeilge Galego
Hrvatski Italiano Îλληνικά
íêµì´ LatvieÅ¡u Lëtzebuergesch
Lietuviu Magyar Malay
Nederlands Norwegian nynorsk Norwegian
Polski Português RomânÄ
Slovenšcina Slovensky Srpski
Svenska Türkçe Tiếng Viá»t
Ù¾Ø§Ø±Ø³Û æ¥æ¬èª ÐÑлгаÑÑки
ÐакедонÑки Ðонгол Ð ÑÑÑкий
СÑпÑки УкÑаÑнÑÑка ×¢×ר×ת
اÙعربÙØ© اÙعربÙØ©
Home / Album / Tag poem 5
ADAPT (4)
Heritage House Herald, Vol.1, No.4 January 1974 [Access symbols on either side of the masthead] PHOTO: Three men sit together. In the left foreground Glenn Kopp sits slightly in front of the other two, smiling almost laughing. Beside him in the middle is Wade Blank with his long blonde hair and a slight smile. On Wade's other side, Lee is leaning in happily laughing a toothless laugh. All three men are wearing glasses. Caption reads: Glenn, Wade, Lee [Headline] YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND by Judy Serfoss You may not be aware how unique a facility our youth wing is. It is the only one in the state with a special program designed for young people. If it were not for youth wing, we would all be in geriatric nursing homes with no concessions made for our age and needs. We would no longer be able to go to ball games, or concerts, or movies, or the Spaghetti Factory. We are extremely fortunate to have a home like this, and the one person most responsible for the creation and continuation of youth wing is Wade Blank. Wade was born in Pennsylvania in 1940, and after graduating from high school he attended Muskingum College in Massillon, Ohio, where he received a bachelor's degree in English with a minor in psychology. After he graduated from college, he worked for a while in a car wash before enrolling at MacCormac Theological Seminary in Chicago, Illinois, where he received his master’s degree in Theology, Study of Counter Culture, Drug Abuse Counseling, and Community Organization. His studies at MacCormac were financed by an anonymous grant of $5,000 from Canton, Ohio. Wade was ordained as a Presbyterian minister and had churches in Columbus and Akron, Ohio from 1966-1969. He became disenchanted with organized religion and its organized hypocrisy, so in 1969 he took a job as the Director of Poverty Progress for the Office of Economic Opportunity in Twinsburg, Ohio, from 1969-1970. Soon after the completion of that job, Wade moved to Denver. He got a job as a chaplin-orderly at Alpine Manor nursing home where he became friends with one of the directors, Tom O'Halloran. When Tom quit to become the director of Heritage House, he offered Wade the job of Youth Wing Coordinator. Wade accepted and began the Don Quiotean tank of battling the bastions of bungling bureaucracy. Being an administrator is not an easy job for an idealist, but Wade was determined to change the kind of care nursing homes offered young people. He stubbornly persisted with his innovative ideas and slowly began to change the whole spirit of youth wing. In the words of Mrs. Barkley, head nurse on the wing, “I think We are very lucky to have Wade. He has made youth wing what it is. We are all very appreciative, even though we don't always show our appreciation.“ The kind of man Wade is can be best illustrated by the comments of those who live and work with him: Geneva Sanchez: "Wade cares, he really cares, and he works so hard. Sometimes I feel sorry for him. He gets all the blame when things go wrong, and none of the credit when they are right." Neal Shaffer: "Wade works hard." John Torrez: "Wade - tough and strong." Don Clubb: “Wade's OK!" Brenda Cooke: "Swell guy, especially when you are feeling down. He always makes time to listen. Funny, and a bit conceited, but I guess all of us have a little conceit in us." Barry Rosenberg: “I have learned more from Wade than from anyone, like his belief in people and his love of life and people. Wade celebrates life, and he's always willing to lay his neck on the line for a friend." In my own case, l was utterly lost when l came to Heritage House and very withdrawn. Wade made a special effort to talk to me and hear my problems. Then he took the initiative in getting me enrolled in school and back into life. Wade is one of the most unselfish men I have ever known. He is totally dedicated and is personally involved in the lives of each and every resident in youth wing. It is an overwhelming commitment, and one which Wade makes unhesitatingly. We all owe Wade more than any of us probably realize. l think we should all make a point in the next few days of saying thanks to Wade and letting him know how much we appreciate what he has done for us. Remember: When you're down and troubled, and you need some loving care just call his name and he'll be there. You've got a friend, you've got Wade. [Headline] Mountain Peak by Mike Smith The snow came swirling down from the mountain peaks, blinding our way up the path. The mountain peaks looked cold and uninviting, in a way, a threat. . . My hands and feet were cold, but my soul was warm, and so was yours. . . And so in that cold and distant place two souls came together to form one. . . So this was love that which man is always searching for.
ADAPT (356)
Handicapped Coloradan October 1987 Title: 123 arrested in San Francisco ADAPT blocks cable cars For years San Francisco area disabled rights activists chose to look the other way as that city's historic cable cars transported tourists and locals up and down the steep hills in cars inaccessible to persons in wheelchairs. And then ADAPT (the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit) hit town. On Tuesday, Sept. 29, scores of wheelchair militants dodged police barricades and, hauled their wheelchairs onto the cable car turntable at Market Street. Protesters managed to prevent the cable cars from moving for more than two hours until police cut the chains they were using to attach their wheelchairs to the turntable. Of the 75 protesters arrested on the spot, 43 were booked and spent the night on cots in the county prison gymnasium on the seventh floor of the Hall of Justice. Outside the hall, 80 persons in wheelchairs maintained a candlelight vigil throughout the night. Many tourists were upset with the protesters, yelling at them that they were ruining their vacation. Protesters replied that the tourists' inconvenience would last only a few hours, while they faced a lifetime of inaccessible public transportation. ADAPT was in San Francisco to make just that point to the several thousand delegates attending the national convention of the American Public Transit Association (APTA), a trade group which represents most of the country's transit providers. Some 123 demonstrators were arrested during the San Francisco protest. "Every year it's a new record for the Guinness book," said Wade Blank, one of ADAPT's founders. Many of the other arrests took place as wheelchair activists blocked buses and streets to prevent APTA delegates from attending social functions outside the convention hall. A highlight of the week-long action was a Sunday parade when more than 500 demonstrators formed an eight-block-long river of wheelchairs. "It's got to be one of the most moving and impressive sights I've ever witnessed," Blank said. San Francisco police complimented the demonstrators on their organizational abilities, according to Blank. "We couldn't have done this a few years ago," he said. Blank said one of the highlights of the week for him was when police stopped APTA's executive director Jack Gilstrap from climbing over a fence to avoid a confrontation with the demonstrators.
ADAPT (354)
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.
ADAPT (352)
Passenger Transport 4/3/98? At San Francisco Meeting Agreement Reached in Suit By Disabled over Access San Francisco, Calif.- A settlement agreement of a class action suit brought by two individuals with disabilities against the Hilton Hotels Corporation, APTA, and Executive Vice President Jack Gilstrap was reached recently. The February 1988 suit stemmed from a protest by persons with disabilities at the San Francisco Hilton Hotel during APTA’s 1987 Annual Meeting. “We are pleased that this litigation is being settled and that we can, hopefully, put it behind us and move forward,” said Mr. Gilstrap. He emphasized that the settlement agreement stipulates that APTA entered into this agreement without admitting any liability in connection with the incident. The plaintiffs who brought the suit in the California Superior Court claimed that their right of access to the San Francisco Hotel was violated during a Sept. 27, 1987, meeting and protest at the hotel. Persons with disabilities had been invited to attend a meeting with APTA that morning, but an accessible hotel entrance was temporarily closed. The protesters sued under California law that guarantees full access for individuals with disabilities. The Sept. 27 incident came during a week when disabled activists held a tumultuous demonstration at San Francisco city hall and also blocked operation of the city’s historic cable car system. The settlement, reached on March 3 and preliminary approved by the court, provides monetary damages to disabled individuals who feel they were denied access to the hotel. The preliminary court approval clears the way for announcement of the settlement in publications distributed throughout the disabled community. Individuals who were invited to the Sept. 27 meeting and were denied access through the temporarily closed entrance are entitled to a minimum of $1,250. Persons who sought access or would have sought access to the hotel but for the temporary closure will have an opportunity to identify themselves and file proofs of claim for damages of up to $250. The damages will be paid out of a settlement fund established by Hilton Hotels and APTA amounting to $100,000. A hearing will be held this June for a final determination by the court concerning the fairness of the settlement.
ADAPT (10)
Denver Post Photo 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. In the black on the right side of the picture, these words are printed in white letters: - And I shall surpass any mountain, or ill or death itself - Mike Smith caption - Bureaucracy Adds a New Handicap for Residents of Atlantis Project Muscular dystrophy patient Mike Smith talks with Ellen Finch, an attendant at Atlantis Community in southwest Denver where he and seven other handicapped persons are living. Smith, 21, and four other Atlantis residents didn't receive their Social Security checks earlier this month because of foul-ups by the federal Social Security Administration, the U.S. Postal Service in Denver and a Lakewood nursing home.