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Home / Albums / Tag Randy Horton 9
- 20BusLA
A large tire of an over the road bus, and on either side of the tire Bill Bolte and Randy Horton are lying on the ground looking out from under the bus. - US_Capitol_Rotunda_part_2_cap
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 (717)
Chicago Tribune, Thursday May 14, 1992 [This article continues in ADAPT 712 but the entire text has been included here for easier reading.] Photo by Eduardo Contreras: A man (Randy Horton) in a denim jacket kneels on the bottom step of an escalator with his arms spread from one handrail to the other. Someone stands on the escalator facing him. Behind him are a group of other protesters in wheelchairs filling the area. The group includes: Steve Verriden, San Antonio Funtes, Chris Hronis and others. Caption reads: Randy Horton (on knees) blocks John Meagher on a State of Illinois Center escalator. Title: Disabled protesters take hard line by Christine Hawes and Rob Kawath Rolling his wheelchair around the cavernous State of Illinois Center, shouting for his rights, Ken Heard recalled how he used to spend his days in a Syracuse, N.Y., nursing home where doctors controlled his life. They would tell him when he could get up in the morning, when he could go to sleep, what he could eat. They would feed him pills, but they wouldn’t tell him what they were for. It was as if he had no mind of his own. “l saw people tied down in their beds, said Heard, who has severe cerebral palsy. "And I saw people die in there." It took some time, a marriage that got him out of the nursing home and a raging desire for independence, but today Heard has regained the power to think for himself. He now earns his own income, rents and fumishes his own apartment and even takes vacations in Las Vegas. His joumey to self-sufficiency began when he heard about an activist group now called American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today. On Wednesday, about 200 ADAPT protesters in wheelchairs disrupted operations at the State of Illinois Center, 100 W. Randolph St., blocking exits and occasionally fighting with building patrons and workers as police stood by, arresting no one. Elaborate security measures the state had put in place Monday to keep the 16-floor, 3,000-employee building functioning broke down while state and Chicago police squabbled over who was responsible for arresting protesters deemed to have gone too far. But the scene of disabled men and women dragging themselves up escalators, surging into the building lobby and clutching the legs of people trying to walk past is just another picture in the well-publicized story of a group of vociferous activists savvy in street action. “One of the strongest points of their civil disobedience is making themselves look as pathetic as possible,” said one Chicago-area official at an agency that has been a target of ADAPT. The official, who asked that his name be withheld, said, “They are excellent media users, and they are very successful at putting spotlights on issues that most people probably wouldn’t normally pay attention to.” ADAPT has taken its dedication to a fever pitch, too fevered for some, and like many new protest `groups`—including the AIDS Coalition To Unleash Power (ACT -UP) for gay rights, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) for animal rights and Earth First for the ecology—is using dramatic, sensational tactics for their cause, to allow any nursing home residents the ability to live on their own. And though some may question their efforts, none can doubt they have impact. One woman who said she was grabbed, tripped and bitten during Wednesday’s melee confessed a few hours later, “I can’t help but feel guilty.” During Heard’s 10-year stay in the nursing home, he met some ADAPT members from Denver and listened to them tell of how they took sledgehammers to Denver's street curbs as a way of objecting to inaccessible sidewalks. Now Heard is a political organizer for ADAPT, in town with 350 other protesters. And though members are no longer taking sledgehammers to cement, they are steering wheelchairs into intersections, chaining themselves to buildings and crawling along dirty streets to get over curbs too high for wheelchairs. For the past two years, ADAPT has been staging demonstrations every six months in support of reallocating one-fourth of the country’s Medicaid funds that now go to nursing homes to in-home health care, and to make it easier for disabled people like Heard to escape their “prisons.” This week in Chicago, protests have played out at the quarters of everyone ADAPT perceives as the health-care power brokers: the federal Department of Health and Human Services, the American Medical Association and the offices of Gov. Jim Edgar. ADAPT claims that having personal, in-home attendants for the disabled costs $900 a month less in state funds than keeping them in nursing homes and other institutions. Illinois officials say the difference is only $600. But aside from financial concerns, ADAPT members say they’re fighting against inhumane restraint and abuse in nursing homes. Their strategy is to make the able-bodied feel as uncomfortable and limited as they themselves do—and to grab as much media time as possible. Television cameras were there Wednesday when bands of wheelchair users mobbed workers trying to use an escalator in the State of Illinois Center. And they were there Tuesday when protesters crawled out of their wheelchairs, across Grand Avenue and over foot-high curbs outside of the American Medical Association’s national headquarters. “This makes us visible," said Jean Stewart, a 42-year-old novelist from New York, who has used a wheelchair since she lost her hip muscle because of a tumor about 17 years ago. “And it enables us to get our message across. It’s not a publicity stunt, it’s education.” The group’s history is rife with attention-grabbing acts of protest after talks with officials were unsuccessful and full of what they feel is noteworthy success. The end result of the Denver protests, said Wade Blank, a founding member of the group, was one of the most accessible cities for disabled people in this country. Three years ago, a handful of ADAPT members were arrested for blocking a Chicago Transit Authority bus with their motorized wheelchairs. But two results of those efforts, they feel, were CTA purchase of buses with wheelchair lifts and even the passage of the federal Americans with Disabilities Act. ADAPT members say they are disrupting business as usual because they are shut out of offices where politicians and association presidents could be sitting down to discuss the issue. And they are trapping members of the public to demonstrate how they feel trapped and restrained. “For so long the issues surrounding disability have remained invisible,” said Stephanie Thomas, who lost her ability to walk when she was run over by a tractor 17 years ago. “So we have to do some extraordinary things to make people pay attention.” Wednesday’s protest, which came after U.S. District Judge Milton Shadur refused to order a lessening of security measures at the state’s Chicago headquarters, left police and Department of Central Management Services security officers snapping only at each other, even after the protest turned ugly. “I have to get to an appointment!" yelled one middle-age man as he wrestled on the ground with two protesters who had grabbed his legs and, in the process, had been pulled out of their wheelchairs. “This is what it feels like to be trapped in a nursing home!” yelled one protester. The man finally struggled free and hustled out of the building while Chicago and Central Management Services police watched from only a few feet away. “We’re sorely disappointed with the Chicago Police Department,” said Central Management Services Director Stephen Schnorf. “Certainly they provided better protection to the other buildings where there were protests this week.” But Chicago Police Cmdr. Michael Malone said the state was in control and his officers were just there to back them up. He said the state was misrepresenting the agreement between the two departments. And all that consternation was caused by a group that claims to be loosely organized and barely funded ADAPT, which has about 5,000 members nationwide, has very little formal correspondence, aside from a newspaper called Incitement and a rare memo, Blank said members keep in touch through word of mouth more than anything, and most of them support their travels through small fundraisers. But though the group says most of its day-to-day procedures are hardly sophisticated, ADAPT leaders are extremely skilled in using the media, say some who have watched the group’s protests first-hand. Sonya Snyder, public relations director at a Florida hotel where ADAPT demonstrated against the American Health Care Association last October, said the protesters only became rambunctious when television cameras appeared. “For most of the time, the police and the protesters would share sandwiches,” Snyder said. “But when the media came, down went the sandwiches and up went the protest.” And Janice Wolfe, a spokeswoman for the health care association, said the group’s efforts are “frustrating and misdirected. Their efforts could be better spent on individuals who are in power to do something.” ADAPT members view their protests as grand displays of strength, not pitiful appeals. They speak of their demonstration plans as though they are plotting battle strategy, using words like “identified enemy,” “privileged information” and "top secret." They pattern their protests after the civil rights demonstrations of the 1960s and compare themselves to the black leaders of that era “This is just like Martin Luther King,” ADAPT member Bernard Baker from Atlanta “We’re fired up, and we can’t take it anymore." - ADAPT (692)
Title: Deputies prepare for protesters by Christopher Quinn of the Sentinel Staff [This articles continues on 687 but the entire text of the article is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO [AP file photo]: A guy in an ADAPT T-shirt sits on the sidewalk in front of a set of glass doors. His knees are bent but together and his feet are out to each side. His mouth is slightly open and he is wearing a hat. Behind him, through the glass a group of security men are standing holding the door handles and conferring. Caption: A disabled activist sits outside a casino in Sparks, Nev., in an '89 protest. Orange deputies are studying videos of the event. Title: Disabled activists plan to disrupt a convention of nursing home operators. In city after city since 1983, wheelchair-riding activists have climbed from their chairs, dragged themselves along the ground, halted traffic and chained themselves to buildings. On Sunday they’re coming to Orlando. They intend to be arrested, and the Orange County Sheriffs Office plans to accommodate them. Deputies have spent the past month gathering information on how to handle the protesters. "This isn't a win situation. No one wants to arrest paraplegics,” Sheriff Walt Gallagher said Thursday. “But I have to enforce the law.” The activists are members of ADAPT (Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today) and they plan to disrupt a convention of nursing home operators. The members believe the federal government spends too much money on nursing homes and too little helping the disabled live at home. The protest is aimed at the American Health Care Association, which is holding its annual meeting Sunday through Thursday at the Orange County Convention and Civic Center. “We want to make life miserable for them," said Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic who cofounded the group and now fights nursing homes. Auberger said the group will try not to inconvenience anyone but convention delegates. He said the convention is a prime target for his group because it is the only place so many nursing home operators gather. The protesters want 25 percent of the federal money spent on nursing homes shifted to home care for the disabled. Law enforcement officials who have dealt with the protesters in other cities say the group's main goal is favorable television coverage. “They'd like nothing better than to have the local media take a picture of three or four big cops taking a guy to the ground.” said Bob Cowman, a lieutenant for the Sparks, Nev., police. Members of the group descended on Sparks, a city near Reno, in 1989. They were stymied, however, when police methodically stopped the activists from disrupting a convention. Sparks officers gently arrested anyone who broke the law. When members threw themselves to the ground and crawled across streets, hoping to be picked up and hauled off to jail, police just watched, frustrating the protesters. The Sparks methods for dealing with the group’s tactics have become the standard other agencies emulate. Orange deputies have spent hours watching videotapes of the Sparks protest. The tapes show legless protesters throwing themselves out of their wheelchairs and walking on their hands across streets. “Members have been known to throw their colostomy bags at the Police,” says a Sparks report on the protest. Auberger said that’s just not true. The Sparks convention and protest were smaller than what is expected in Orange County. The Sparks convention involved 500 delegates and around 100 protesters. The convention here will involve more than 3,000 delegates and more than 300 protesters. “We’re as prepared as we’re going to be,” said Sgt. Jon Swanson, head of sheriffs intelligence. Today a wheelchair-bound consultant will teach deputies how to arrest the disabled without hurting them or damaging the wheelchairs. Starting Sunday a riot squad will be at the convention center 24 hours a day. If the disabled protesters attempt to block traffic or center entrances, 120 deputies will be on hand to make arrests. The county will have to pay as much as $200,000 in overtime. “One hundred and twenty cops isn't going to do it," Auberger said. “That's not enough per person." The cost is in addition to whatever Orange jail chief Tom Allison spends housing arrested activists and tending to their medical needs. Allison said he’s ready to handle hundreds of prisoners in wheelchairs. Swanson and Allison said they hope any activists who get arrested stay in jail a few days. Bonds will be set at $500 for the misdemeanor charges the protesters usually face. Because the activists are from out of state, bail bond agents will be unlikely to help, said John Von Achen, president of the Tri-County Bonding Association. When members have been arrested and freed without bond in other cities, they have immediately returned to the protests to be arrested again. “We don't want to get into a scenario where we arrest them, release them, arrest them, release them, arrest them, release them,” Allison said. Auberger said there is another way: “Not to arrest any of us.” The headquarters hotel for the convention is the Peabody Orlando, across from the convention center, but some delegates are staying up the street at the Clarion Plaza Hotel. The protesters have reserved 90 rooms at the Clarion. The convention schedule calls for delegates to be in seminars at the convention center or in training at Walt Disney World on Sunday and Monday. Auberger said his group might stage a protest at Disney. On Tuesday morning, however, Red Cross president Elizabeth Dole will address the convention. Television weatherman Willard Scott will speak Wednesday. Swanson said the protesters might save their big protest for the speeches. Cowman, the Sparks lieutenant, said Orange deputies just need to expect the worst. “Some of them are basically professional protesters,” he said of the group’s members. But they are severely disabled, and Sparks officers repeatedly offered to help the activists. “You can’t help but feel sorry for these people," Cowman said. - ADAPT (394)
PHOTO (by Jean Goupil): Protesters lined up along police barricades outside a large building, in the forground two women and a man try to pass a wheelchair over the barricade, and a policeman tries to block them. To the left of this group a man in a wheelchair (Randy Horton?) looks on as Reverend Willie of Chicago talks with another officer over the barricades. Behind them are lines of other protesters and police officers on either side of the barricades. La Presse, Montreal, Lundi 3 Octobre 1988 (In French) A L'ASSAUT DU REINE ELIZABETH Photo: Jean Goupil, La Presse Une centaine de handicapes in fauteuil roulant ont tenet hier de forcer les barrages policiers a l'entree de l'hotel Reine Elizabeth, ou se tient le congres de l'Association americane des transports publics. Bilan de la journee: une trentaine d'arrestations. Les manifestants reclamalent que les autobus soient a mettre d'utiliser les transports en commun. Page A3 La Presse, Montreal, Monday, October 3, 1988 (In French) AT THE ASSAULT OF QUEEN ELIZABETH Photo: Jean Goupil, La Presse A hundred handicapped in wheelchairs yesterday tried to force the police checkpoints at the entrance of the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, where the congress of the American Public Transit Association is being held. Assessment of the day: some thirty arrests. Protesters claim that buses must be put to use transporting all the public. Page A3 - ADAPT (68)
A young man (Randy Horton) sits in a motorized wheelchair. He is looking off to his right. He holds a big black ball and chain in his lap and on the ball is a sign that says "discrimination." Taped to his legs is a poster that reads "and justice for all?" - ADAPT (627)
Atlanta Constitution Oct 3, 1990 Disabled demand help PHOTO (by Michael A. Schwarz/Staff): Man in a motorized wheelchair, Danny Saenz, holding a drink in one hand grabs the door of a suburban car and holds it slightly open while the driver, taken aback, looks at him. A policeman holds the man's other arm and tries to pull him away from the car. Behind them protesters with signs are visible, and behind them a small office building with tall pine trees in the very back. Caption reads: Danny Saenz, protesting Tuesday with American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, tries to stop Fred Watson, an official of the Georgia Health Care Association, from leaving his office. PHOTO (by Michael A. Schwarz/Staff): Two policemen hold a disabled man (Randy Horton) up by his arms at about their waist height. His legs extend out to the side and he holds his arms out in front of him. One of the policemen is doing most of the work, struggling to hold him back, while the other looks on with a neutral expression and simply holds his other arm. A couple of cars in the background indicate they are in a parking lot. PHOTO (by Michael A. Schwarz/Staff): A small woman holding a sign "Honk if you support us" in one hand and her other arm raised, sits a top the suburban. The car is surrounded by protesters in wheelchairs, two are up against the back, blocking it, three others have signs and most appear to be chanting. Their signs read "Free Our People" (on a huge placard) and "We want Independent Living Now" Caption reads: Protesters surround Mr. Watson's van (above) before police move in (left). Article, Page D2. - ADAPT (615)
Two uniformed police officers drag a disabled man (Randy Horton) across a parking lot. The have his shoulders at about the level of their waists. The disabled man has his arms extended in front of him and his body is twisted so his head faces front while his legs and feet are sideways; his shirt is being lifted up so part of his stomach is exposed. One of the policemen looks almost removed and amused, while the other is struggling more, his feet apart in mid-step. A couple of cars are behind the trio and no wheelchair is in sight. The disabled man has a odd expression on his face, part smile, part grimace. - 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.