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Prima pagină / Albume / Etichetă Mike Auberger 117
- ADAPT (266)
THE HANDICAPPED COLORADAN Vol.9, No. 5 Boulder Colorado December 1986 [This article continues in ADAPT 259, but the entire text is included here for easier reading.] PHOTO by Melanie Stengel, courtesy of UPI: A large heavy set man with no legs (Jerry Eubanks) sits in his manual wheelchair in front of a city bus. He has a determined and frustrated look on his face. Behind him and up against the front of the bus you can see another protester in a wheelchair (Greg Buchanan). On either side of Jerry is a uniformed officer, apparently unsure of how to proceed. One stands with his hand on this hip, the other officer is on Jerry's other side and is looking toward the first policeman, as if for guidance. caption reads: ARRESTING DISABLED PROTESTORS poses some unusual problems for police as these perplexed officers found out during the ADAPT Detroit demonstrations. Title: Doing hardtime in Cincy During the demonstrations at the regional convention of the American Public Transit Association (APTA) in Cincinnati this May 17 protestors were arrested. Three of them, George Cooper of Dallas, Mike Auberger of Denver, and Bob Kafka of Austin, were sentenced to 10 days in jail. Wade Blank, founder of the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), said it was the first time in the history of the movement that any disabled persons had done “hard time. ” The following is Kafka's own account of that hard time. The article is reprinted from Incitement, Vol. 2, No. 3, a newspaper published by the Texas ADAPT chapters. By BOB KAFKA Wednesday, May 21, 1986 4:30 p.m.— One by one they haul us off, seventeen in all. We go through the usual procedures: giving name, address, next of kin, all our property, a list of our medications. We sign the papers, are fingerprinted and photographed. We go into the detention center for hours of waiting while the powers that be decide what to do with us. Handicapism raises its ugly head again as judge Albanese releases six ADAPT members on their own recognizance. His reason: medical problems. The real reason: he can't understand those with CP and Frank, the one blind man, freaks him out. We become the Cincinnati Eleven. 8 p.m.—Mike Montgomery, the “head keeper" at the Hamilton County, jail, has a dilemma: eleven people in wheelchairs and not one empty bed in the infirmary. Where to put us? The decision had obviously been made to keep us together and apart from the rest of the prison population. They convert a training classroom into what looks like a hospital ward without windows. Eleven WWII hospital beds are hauled in. Two guards are stationed with us at all times and, for some reason, three from 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. The accessible bathroom is down the hall. At first we are guarded each time we go to empty our leg bags; soon they realize we are not going to try the “great escape." The starkness of our surroundings is stifling: ugly green concrete block walls, gray tiled floors, buzzing fluorescent lights, and two clocks on the walls always counting time and exactly how long we have been in jail. Thursday, May 22 6 a.m.- The room is quiet. Without windows the difference between night and day can only be separated by the morning eggs and the changing of the shifts. We are a curiosity to our keepers. Faces peer in the doorway all morning to look at "the handicaps." ll a.m.— The doctor and nurse arrive to evaluate our "conditions," We again list our medications and the daily supplies we need. Two bladder infections, two decubitus ulcers, one strained back, and many who need assistance dressing, showering and toileting. They leave saying everything will be taken care of. (This is not to be.) 3 p.m.- The social work staff arrive. They are here to make sure we are treated OK, we have access to the library, gym and telephone, and to take care of any crises. (Again, this is not to be.) 4:30 p.m.- Joni Wilkens, our attorney, comes to discuss how we will handle our cases. We decide to stay together and not plea bargain. 6 pm.- It is obvious by now that we are not going to get our proper medication. Substitutes for drugs they don't have don't work. Those needing Valium are told it can't be dispensed in a jail setting. George again asked, to no avail, for his raised toilet seat and "booties" to protect his feet from sores. Mike asked about his bowel program. The nurse and guards give us only blank looks. 10 p.m.—Lights out. The guards assist those who need it. By the time we leave many of them will make pretty good attendants. Friday, May 23 6 a.m.-Lonnie went to the hospital late last night. His decubitus started to bleed and they rushed him over around l a.m. He came back around 3 a.m. and remained in bed all day. 12 p.m.- Boredom is starting to set in. George is rolling back and forth in the halls. Bill is constantly talking, which helps to keep us awake during the day. We fill out commissary forms, but as Joe predicts, we never see the items ordered. Lunch arrives, Mike has the guard melt his spoon so he can feed himself. He makes them do it each meal. George R. again devours his food. E.T. is lying in bed shivering from his bladder infection. 2 p.m.- Joni arrives with her partner, after a long session with the Cincinnati judicial system. The judge and D.A. will accept a plea of disorderly conduct and a fine of $60 (2 days already served) for the eight who were charged with disorderly conduct. They would go free. Lonnie's charge of resisting arrest would be dropped, but there are no guarantees for Mike, George and me. 4 p.m.- The eight are released, Mike, George and I receive 1O days, with credit for two served. Eight days to go. 9 p.m.- The room seems empty without the other eight ADAPT members. The guards kid about us being the hardened criminals. George continues to ask for his raised toilet seat, I for my correct medication and Mike about assistance with his bowel program. Again-no response. Saturday, May 24 7 a.m.-The library, gym, and telephone are not available on weekends and holidays. Monday is Memorial Day. We realize we will not have access to these amenities until Tuesday. Very much like a hospital stay. We also realize our medical needs will not be met; however, we continue our demands that something be done so Mike and George can get the help they need with their bowel program. Security continues to relay this to the medical staff. Medical staff continues to say it is security’s responsibility. This double think has been going on four days now, with no assistance given so far. 2 p.m.— George is beginning to have adverse effects from Valium withdrawal. Mike is having more and worse spasms because the substitute medications are not working. I have no idea if the substitute antibiotic is doing any good at all. Sunday, May 25 4 p.m.-The day passes as usual. Up at 6 a.m. with breakfast of cold eggs and boiled water that had looked at a coffee bean. After lunch our daily request for medication, supplies, and bowel program assistance is duly noted in the guard’s record book, but as usual no action. Joni and Art Wademan, a minister who has been invaluable throughout the week in Cincinnati, came about 2:30 p.m. We share our concern that if we don't get some assistance one or all of us might get very ill. They go to the supervisor and suggest that if medical is not going to act, then we should be transported to a hospital. Going to a hospital for a bowel program might seem extreme, but after five days, impaction is a real possibility. To our amazement, Mike is taken down to medical and then to the hospital. A raised toilet seat is borrowed from Good Samaritan Hospital. We are finally allowed to take our medications which are brought in from the outside. Monday, May 26 Memorial Day — a quiet day, a day for reflection. If non-disabled prisoners were prevented from relieving themselves for five days, it would be considered torture. Equality is as much a farce in jail as it is out of jail, maybe more so. Cincinnati's judicial and penal systems obviously feel it is fine to use a person's disability as a means of punishing that person. Documented omissions which place disabled people in potentially life-threatening situations don't raise an eyebrow, even from the defenders of justice or the media. Reports that the jail is well-equipped to handle our needs but that we will simply be “less than comfortable" go unchallenged. The fact that we have two people who care, who spend some time and resolve our problem, only highlights the injustice to those who do not have a Joni or an Art and must suffer because of ignorance of the needs of disabled persons. Tuesday, May 27 11:30 a.m.—-The court is two blocks from the jail. They usually transport the prisoners to the court by van for security reasons. We present a problem, since the van is inaccessible. They look to a supervisor, and after a half hour the answer comes down. Let the prisoners roll to the courthouse with a deputy sheriff guarding each of us. Babs, Tisha, Reverend McCracken, Art and Vivian (friends and family) are waiting in the hall. The guards hurry us into the courtroom. The media is out in force. As we wait, we wonder what the D.A. will do. Joni enters the room and her face is blank. Rubenstein, the D.A., is his usual arrogant self. Joni states that the six days served are both punishment and deterrent. Rubenstein surprisingly agrees, but asks the court to get our statement. Had we learned our lessons? He wants us to grandstand for the cameras and to get the judge mad at us again. Instead, we suppress the urge to yell "WE WILL RlDE" and simply state we will be returning to our homes and work. Cincinnati will be only a memory. Judge Sundeman accepts the motion to mitigate. We are free. 2 p.m.—We are sitting in Skyline Chili, a local restaurant, and talking over the last six days. Needless to say much of the talk is also about Detroit, October 5-9, our next battle with APTA. Spending six days in jail makes one think about commitment. Detroit will take commitment from us all, but . . . WE WILL RIDE! PHOTO 1: A close up of a man (Mike Auberger) with shoulder length dark hair and a short beard and mustache. He is wearing a light color sweater and shirt with a collar, and the chest strap from his wheelchair is visible. He looks very serious. Caption reads: MIKE AUBERGER Back in the slammer again. PHOTO 2: At least 4 policemen standing around a manual wheelchair in which someone (Bob Kafka) is being bent forward and something weird is happening with a pole (the picture is dark and hard to make out.) Caption reads: THE AUTHOR being arrested in L.A. - ADAPT (217)
Mainstream magazine, no date listed, p.9. Attachment IV [Story continues in ADAPT 211 and then ADAPT 210 but is included here in its entirety for easier reading. Story seems to be cut off at the end.] Photo bottom half of page: Image of people marching down the center of the street, some carrying signs, one with the ADAPT logo and another saying, “APTA OPPRESSES." Line snakes back out of sight alongside traffic in the back. Wheelchairs are lined up smartly presenting an impressive image. [Headline] ADAPT PUBLIC TRANSIT OR ELSE by Mike Ervin One of the largest civil rights marches in history by people with disabilities was held Sunday, October 7, 1985 in downtown Los Angeles to protest the American Public Transit Association (APTA)'s policy of local option transit for disabled. In response to an “invitation” by American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) to join in picketing the annual APTA convention, national leaders of the Disability Rights Movement converged at MacArthur Park to roll the 1.7 miles to the convention site at the Bonaventure Hotel. Bill Bolte of the California Association of the Physically Handicapped (CAPH) took a head count of the line of people in wheelchairs rolling single file down the middle of Wilshire Boulevard and announced that there was 215 present. The L.A. Police Department had refused to issue a parade permit to the group and had said it would not allow the long planned parade to be held on the street, but when 200 plus wheelchair users took to the pavement (no curb cuts) all the police could do was route traffic around the procession. It was an impressive sight; more than twice the number of people ADAPT had turned out for previous demonstrations at the annual conventions of APTA. As the line of people stretched more than a block in front of the posh Bonaventure Hotel where APTA was staying, the L.A. Police waited; there wasn’t much they could do except establish their presence. The protesters marched into the hotel lobby taking up most of the available space. Chants of “We will ride!" Filled the atrium below as bewildered hotel guests wondered what all this could possibly be about. The Hotel Security immediately blocked the one wheelchair accessible elevator to the main lobby. This escalated (so to speak) the confrontation, as demonstrators got out of their wheelchairs to block the escalators, saying “if you block our access, then we will block the escalators. No one will be able to use them." Meanwhile the police discussed the strategy of arresting certain people first whom they had identified as leaders. Photo: A man, Bob Kafka, sitting awkwardly, almost falling out of his manual wheelchair, apparently handcuffed behind his back. His legs are falling under the chair, and he is surrounded by four or more police officers. Article continues: Eight people, one woman and seven men, were arrested and booked without charges. The police told the media that the charge was “refusing to leave the scene of a riot.” The woman arrestee was released Sunday night, five of the men were released the following afternoon, and the last two men were released Tuesday morning after 53 disabled individuals held an all night vigil outside the county jail. On Tuesday morning, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), represented by Lou Nau, the chairman of the Disability Rights Committee of the ACLU, outlined the treatment that the arrestees faced. Four of the men were handcuffed behind their backs and left to sit in the police vehicles for up to five hours. Mike Auburger, a quadriplegic, was not allowed to use the bathroom for eight hours, causing hyperreflexia. Individuals on sustaining medication repeatedly asked for their medication, but never received it. Nau said to permit no bail for misdemeanor offenses is clearly against the law. Although APTA tried to discredit the protestors as a “small militant group of outsiders," they represented a wide spectrum of the Disability Rights Movement including Robert Funk, Executive Director of the Disability Rights and Education Defense Fund; Michael Winter, Director of the Center for Independent Living, Berkeley, CA; Judy Heumann, of the World Institute on Disability; Joe Zenzola, President, California Association of the Physically Handicapped; Peg Nosek, of Independent Living Research Utilization Project, Houston, TX; Catherine Johns, President of The Association on Handicapped Student Service Programs in Post-Secondary Education; John Chapples, Department of Rehabilitation, Boston, MA; Mark Johnson, Department of Rehabilitation, Denver, CO; Marco Bristo, Director, Access Living, Chicago, IL; Harlan Hahn, Professor, University of Southern California; and Don Galloway, D.C. Center for Independent Living. The following days saw many more protests in the Los Angeles area. On Wednesday, about 50 individuals arrived at the office of Larry Jackson, Director of the Long Beach Transit Authority, who is the incoming President of APTA. After being denied a meeting with him, they went out into the streets. The police gave them l0 minutes to disburse or be arrested. When no one moved, the police proceeded to arrest the protestors and take them to jail in 6 dial-a-ride vans. These individuals were booked and then released, as it was not possible for the Long Beach Police Department to accommodate so many disabled people. The passers-by had many different reactions to what they were experiencing; some were mad at being detained, some joined in. One man gave protestors a banner which read “help” and proceeded to distribute little American.... [rest of the article is not available.] Three photos. Photo 1: At the bottom of an escalator a mass of people in wheelchairs gathered together, Julie Farrar in the center, holding a picket sign: “APTA DESTROYED 504”. Photo 2: A man, Chris Hronis, lying on his side on the floor, handcuffed behind his back, surrounded by four or more police standing over him. Photo 3: Through the window of a van you see two man, Chris Hronis in back and Bob Kafka in front of him, sitting in wheelchairs. Both are handcuffed behind their backs. - ADAPT (640)
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1990 Disabled protesters seize college building (This article continues in ADAPT 632, the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A thin man, Claude Holcomb, sits in a dark motorized chair in front of a huge memorial to Martin Luther King. He sits at an angle in his chair, in a button down striped shirt, his knees wide apart and thin rigid hands resting on his arm rests. Behind him the white memorial reads In memory of Martin Luther King Jr., 1929 - 1968, Outstanding alumnus of Morehouse College ..., World famous leader of the non-violent movement ..., Distinguished winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. From Morehouse College he launched his humanitarian pilgrimage to create the beloved community and for that purpose he moved... the classroom and his pulpit ... into immortality. ...Baptist Convention ... President ... General Secretary... College. Claude's chair blocks the view of some of the memorial's verbiage. You can see the push handle and part of the wheel of another chair next to him. Caption reads: Claude Holcomb at the Martin Luther King Jr. memorial at Morehouse College. Protesters compared their struggle to the civil rights leader's. Morehouse president’s office blocked By Ben Smith III, Staff writer Saying Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would smile on their protest, nearly 200 disabled activists on Monday seized the administration building on the campus where he was educated. The demonstrators, members of Americans Disabled for Attendant Programs Today (ADAPT), a national advocacy group for the disabled, took over Gloster Hall at Morehouse College in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the school president’s office. “This is a college that has always valued human rights,” said Michael Auberger, a co-founder of the group. “This is another minority that is trying to gain its human rights.” The protest was intended to force Morehouse President Leroy Keith to arrange a meeting with Louis Sullivan, secretary of Health and Human Services and an alumnus and former dean of the Morehouse School of Medicine. Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," said Mr. Auberger. More than a dozen wheelchair-bound activists rolled into Dr. Keith's office before noon Monday and barricaded the door. Scores of additional protesters followed, chanting, “We want Sullivan" and "We shall overcome,” and blocked the front door and hallways. Late in the afternoon, Dr. Keith exited through a rear door, and many other employees left the building. College officials said they were puzzled that the demonstrators took their protest to the Morehouse College administration building instead of the Morehouse School of Medicine, which is a separate institution. Richard Ammons, a school spokesman, said Dr. Keith had contacted Dr. Sullivan, who said he would not meet with the protesters. But the regional director of Department of Health and Human Services agreed to meet with demonstrators in his office today, Mr. Ammons added. “We as an institution are powerless to do anything other than [contact Dr. Sullivan],” Mr. Ammons told the protesters. “And we are asking you to leave at this time." Lee Jackson, a demonstrator, replied, “We’re going to wait right here for Sullivan.” At least 50 demonstrators said they planned to remain in the building until Dr. Sullivan meets with them or they are arrested. School officials said the college was reluctant to have the protesters arrested. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Some students who were locked out of Gloster Hall complained about the protesters, but others called their objections “hypocritical” because of the school's civil rights tradition. "Anytime you're dealing with basic human rights, protests may inconvenience some people," said Otis Moss, 20, a Morehouse philosophy and religion major. “But you have to understand that ultimately it's going to benefit all." Staff writer Lyle Harris contributed to this report. Photo by Johnny Crawford/Staff: The front of an ADAPT march. On the left side are the ADAPT marchers, most in wheelchairs, on the right, a line of parked cars at the side of the street the group is marching down. First in line is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt and in a manual chair. He is African American and has his head shaved completely bald; he looks very intense. He is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger in his motorized wheelchair with his left leg fully extended with foot in a protective boot; he's wearing a black ADAPT shirt still with the no steps logo. Behind him is Clayton Jones wearing the black ADAPT shirt and in a manual chair. Behind him you can see Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood. As the line snakes back from there you can see more people in the black T-shirts but their faces become less distinct until the whole group fades away. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. There is a second photo in the text of the article, a close up of an African American man's face. He is wearing a suit and tie. Below it is the caption: Leroy Keith. - ADAPT (122)
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. - ADAPT (618)
November 1992 Access USA News Page 5 Atlantis leads to ADAPT leads to independence Cathy Seabaugh, Staff Writer DENVER,CO-Their offices are relatively small compared to the massive projects the American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today organization tackles. An inconspicuous location in south central Denver serves as national headquarters for the 29 states who have ADAPT chapters. This Colorado town is a gold mine for members of the disabled community, not so much for its accessibility and attitudes, but for the brainstem which this office at 12 Broadway has become. ADAPT representatives throughout the United States act as nerve endings, sending vital messages to the Denver office so it can operate efficiently and effectively. Effectiveness: a term well defined by ADAPT members. ADAPT was conceived and delivered by staff and volunteers of Atlantis Community, founded in 1975 by former nursing home employee Wade Blank and Mike Auberger, a quadriplegic from a bobsledding accident in 1971. Atlantis emerged so that individuals, even those who are severely, multiply-disabled, have the option to live outside an institution. ln its first l5 years, Atlantis was able to successfully transition more than 400 disabled adults from “sheltered settings" to more independent living standards. As an admirable offspring of Atlantis, ADAPT set its own agenda in June 1983 and embarked on an action-packed mission to make public transportation accessible to everyone. American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit set out to train, develop and empower disabled activists so they could effectively battle for that accessibility. Eighteen members of the Atlantis community had taken the first strides toward accessible public transportation in Denver when they gathered on July 5&6, 1978, to block city buses at Broadway and Colfax across from the state capitol. ‘Then in 1982, after beating up the board enough," said Auberger, one of the 18, "they decided they'd buy all lift-equipped buses." Once ADAPT formed the next year, the foundation was in place. With Denver as a model, activists began chipping away at other cities’ granite-like, antiquated public transportation systems. "(Former President Jimmy) Carter appointed Brock Adams in 1976 and Adams set a federal mandate that all new buses bought with federal money had to have (wheelchair) lifts,” Auberger said. "Under the Reagan administration, APTA (American Public Transit Association) sued (to avoid the lift requirements) and won. "APTA was having its national convention in Denver in October 1983 and about 20 people from across the country showed up to join about 22 people from Denver. We sent notice to (APTA) that their convention would not go uninterrupted if they did not meet with us. They went to the mayor, but he said he wouldn't protect them unless they agreed to meet with us.” ADAPT met APTA there. They would meet many more times. "We decided wherever they had a convention, we would go,” Auberger said. "It moved us around to communities where they'd never been exposed to the issues. People all of a sudden became aware. "If we're talking about the issues, people are going to form an opinion. You polarize people. Whether they support you or not is not the point. If there's not an opinion there, you can't change it." The deep roots, pockets or whatever of APTA were a long-time barrier for ADAPT. But as the Americans with Disabilities Act cemented and included regulations for public transportation, APTA’s resistance to ADAPT's demands weakened until the federal govemment finally made ADA the law. With that priceless piece of legislation signed and inducted into the pages of history, ADAPT was ready for its next mission. "What we said at that point to members was to put out feelers in your communities,” Auberger said. "What we found was personal assistants was the biggest issue of concern.” Retaining the ADAPT acronym, the group devised new plans to force change in the long-term health care system of the United States. “At least 60 percent of ADAPT members have (resided) in nursing homes at one time or another,” Auberger said, "The other 40 percent have spent their lives trying to avoid going into one.” Although ADAPT and Atlantis are neither to lose its identity in the other, they are a family unit and work together toward change. Atlantis is a certified home health care agency, making 53,000 visits each year in Denver and Colorado Springs, serving approximately 85 clients. “That's 365 days a year, whether there's three feet of snow on the ground or it's 105 degrees," Auberger said. “We have a 24-hours-a-day emergency backup system that works probably 98 percent of the time." One Atlantis client is a C2 quadriplegic who is on a ventilator nonstop. Yet he is allowed to live in his own home with the help of Atlantis personal attendants. "That shows you our capabilities,” Auberger said. ”We can provide 24-hour care for about $7,500 a year. A nursing home would do it for $20,000.” ADAPT’s scrapbook for the past two years includes protests in almost countless cities throughout the country. Wherever Dr. Louis Sullivan, Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, made a speech or appearance, ADAPT added itself to the invitation list. The protests usually involved arrests, which is a proven effective tool for drawing media coverage. Radical activity, some say. "We really give the middle-of-the-road disabled community members the power to make change," Auberger said. "We make them look sane. “It's like in Illinois, Gov. Edgar didn't have a problem meeting with the straight group who went to Springfield because they were sane. lf he dealt with our radical group, he'd have to deal with all radical groups. We really give (middle-of-the-road community members) a platform." ADAPT picks on Sullivan because, they say, he can initiate change. They argue that Sullivan's signature is all that's necessary to require the states receiving Medicaid to provide personal assistants. Just more than half the states provide such funding and many; if not all, of those programs are underfunded, restricted and far short of meeting the demand. ADAPT seeks to convince Health and Human Services - Sullivan - to take one-third of the $15 billion Medicaid dollars and commit it to home-based, consumer-controlled services. "Every state that buys into Medicaid has to fund nursing homes,” Auberger said, explaining how the system currently works. Sixty-five percent of all money paid to nursing homes is Medicaid funds. "States have little play in what they can do with Medicaid.” Nursing homes use what's called a “cold bed rate" which refers to the empty beds in their institutions that are not producing income. Lobbyists for the nursing home industry are looking at these rates and profit margins, not at long-term care that allows individuals to retain their independence. "We’ve become a valuable commodity,” Auberger said. "It's a normal mindset to put someone in a nursing home. This is so ingrained in our society. There's currently no alternative, and most people aren't able to envision the type of care we're talking about." Auberger encourages every person he can to write letters to members of Congress, senators and other politicians who can have an impact on the future of people with disabilities. "When you do that, you raise a level of consciousness,” he said. "You don't have to mention (the numbers), just the concept. "The logic is the problem. When parents are doing (personal attendant care), for free, it doesn't have to be skilled. When Medicaid pays for that same care, a nurse has to do it.” Statistics provided by the American Health Care Association show the average lifespan on an individual in a nursing home is 21 months. "You can't convince me there's quality care in a nursing home," Auberger said. "We (at Atlantis) are non-medical personal attendants. When the staff goes into a home, the person in that home is the boss. We do things the way they want us to do them. "People don't have to give up their power to able-bodied people. But it's okay to share the power." Although many members of the disabled community have made endorsements this election year, ADAPT chooses to remain rather neutral - for a change. "Don't pick a side,” Auberger said. "As soon as you pick a side and that side loses, you now have an enemy on the other side. That's been real effective tor us. We'll rate candidates on disability issues, but we won't endorse anyone. "If there's a disability issue in Colorado, legislators call here, the media calls here. We're a powerful entity in this state. As hundreds of ADAPT activists confronted the annual conference of the nursing home industry in San Francisco October 19-21, the power of this entity spread toward the Pacific. Persons interested in more information about ADAPT can call Auberger or Wade Blank at (303) 733-9324 (voice and TDD). INSERT AT CENTER OF PAGE: Across the top in bold letters the word "ATLANTIS" and below that ADAPT's new Free Our People logo, the wheelchair access symbol with it's arms raised above its head breaking chains that are bound to it's wrists. Above this figure, in a semi-circular pattern the words "Free Our People" and below, also in a semi-circular pattern, "ADAPT" - ADAPT (744)
The Disability Rag July/August, 1992 [This article continues on ADAPT 738, 733,728, 724, 748, 743 and finally 737; however the entire text is included here for easier reading. ] Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman holds a wooden barricade while another tries to pull a protester who is lying on the ground by his pants legs backward and out from under the barricade. The protester is holding onto something above his head. On one side a third policeman seems to be coming over and on the other side a man (Frank Lozano) and his guide dog (Frazier) are coming over. Title: On the barricades With ADAPT by Mary Johnson photos by Tom Olin “I am tired of rules and regulations. And them telling me what you have to do. None of them has worked for me as good as being at home. In nursing homes, they put you on sleeping pills to keep you from getting aggravated with what will occur. “You can’t pay —— you don’t have any money to pay an attendant at night, when you’re on SSI. All of these things they’re constantly cutting. I haven’t been in a nursing home for 15 years — and I don’t plan to go.” It's Saturday night in Chicago. Nearly 300 ADAPT members have gathered in a meeting room in Chicago’s Bismarck hotel, getting ready for the group’s May 1992 assault on the Windy City. People are telling their stories. Many are there because there was a nursing home in their past — or they don’t want one in their future. The next day the group will swoop down on the University of Chicago's commencement exercises. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan is speaking, and some in the group can't believe their late-breaking good fortune at getting another shot at hassling the Secretary who has steadfastly refused to meet with them to discuss redirecting Medicaid funds to in-home attendant services. A planned Mother's Day March to a graveyard — to symbolize how this nation kills its mothers in nursing homes — is cancelled. “I was never for that dead stuff anyway," ADAPT organizer Mike Auberger says. The week's events are debated. Somebody wants to know why they see police taking photos of them whenever there's an ADAPT action. There's an attorney available for people who get arrested, the group is told; they‘re given his name, as well as ADAPT organizers to contact if they get arrested. “I’m telling you — and it’s the most important thing I'm gonna say." Auberger warns the group. “have your medications with you if you're going to get arrested. Have ‘em labelled. No pill boxes; bottles. Make sure it has your name on it — nobody else's. Make sure there’s no illegal substances on you; no weapons. ‘Cos this is going to follow us down the road.” As it turned out, Chicago was mild compared to Orlando's confrontations last fall, in which nearly all ADAPT activists were thrown in jail — some in solitary confinement — for the week. In Chicago, only 10 people would be cited and fined in Monday’s confrontation at the HHS regional offices in downtown Chicago, and only 4 police-tagged “leaders” arrested the next day at American Medical Association headquarters; all were released at day’s end. Perhaps the national outrage in the wake of the Rodney King beating acquittal in Los Angeles a few weeks before had made Chicago police, considered to be some of the most brutal, cautious. The University of Chicago graduation turns out to be a beautiful Chicago spring day. Police and Secret Service are allowing ADAPT members into the auditorium without any hassle. Later, though, Jim Parker is asked to leave. He protests loudly as police haul him out a side door: “Why am l the only one being asked to leave?” About that time Tim Carver of Tennessee simply rolls off into the men's room, unnoticed, to wait out the sweep. Several ADAPT members unfurl a large FREE OUR PEOPLE banner over the wall below their seats, off in the “handicapped section" where the Secret Service have relegated them. Big burly Secret Service men with their walkie-talkies run over quickly and reach down to pull it up. Bob Kafka and Allen Haines are as determined that they won’t succeed. A kind of arm wrestling match ensues with Kafka and Haines holding firmly to the banner to keep it hanging over the wall where it forms a backdrop to the stage area where Sullivan will be speaking. The Secret Service have the advantage of leverage; they’re taller. One especially burly guy finally wrests the pole with its banner away from them and with a contemptuous jerk, flings it high into the bleachers behind them. “Clear ‘em out," mutters an all-business police captain. Four cops to a chair seems to be the agreed-on method of removal. Paulette Patterson of Chicago is removed this way. Over on the side, Anita Cameron and Jim Parker, back in and out of his wheelchair, and Frank Lozano, minus dog Frazier, are scooting down the steps on a side tier, trying to make it down to where Sullivan will speak, but they're caught and removed, too. “Get as close to the doors as possible,” says Bob Kafka to the other activists who have now been ejected from the back of the building. With police blocking doors. clots of ADAPT move to every entrance. Well, almost every one. Jean Stewart and Eleanor Smith use Stewart's crutches to pound on the metal doors, trying to create a disturbance inside, as the graduation ceremonies begin. Inside, though, the noise is barely audible. Nancy Moulton of Atlanta is sitting quietly on the ground, leaning on a door, with her guide dog Nan beside her. “Get up,” say a blue shirted Chicago cop. Moulton doesn‘t move. Nan rests her head on Moulton’s leg and rolls her eyes up at the cop towering over them. Now there are 4 Chicago cops and one guy who must be from the Secret Service hanging over Moulton and her dog. “If you don't move, we’ll have to grab you. and the dog will attack,” the cop persists. Still Moulton sits. “If you’re concerned about the dog, move!” the cop barks. Moulton gets up, worried that the cops will hurt Nan. While some block doors, others pass out leaflets to latecomers. The chants of “hey hey, ho. ho, nursing homes have got to go!" change to “We want Sullivan!" The police have barricaded the exit with blue sawhorses that read “police line." A pickup truck from the University's facilities management is unloading yellow university police barricades. A lady inside the back of the auditorium, hearing the faint chanting coming from outside, mutters, “they're not making friends." She‘s with the university. The University of Chicago is so large that commencement is held in two shifts; a morning one and an afternoon one. Sullivan has finished speaking and the crowd is emerging from the pavilion. They walk down the long fence of police barricades, while ADAPT chants and hands them leaflets: “Wanted: Sullivan. For crimes against disabled people." Inset picture: Beefy policeman with his cap down over his nose leaning forward. Caption: “If you care about your dog, move!” Article continues: It's lunch. ADAPT always feeds its activists. Today it‘s Burger King. Attendants and other walkies pass out cokes and burgers. Nan, Moulton’s dog, gets some much welcomed ice cubes from the big bag under the tree, put into the little folding plastic water bowl Moulton carries with her. A new crowd is coming to the arena. They, too, get leaflets and chants. Tim Craven has been ejected when police found him inside, but not before he and the other two who had hidden themselves in the press box get off a few good chants in Sullivan’s direction. A reporter for Habilitation, a disability magazine out of Seattle, has marched up to Sullivan, she reports, and asked him the questions ADAPT has so long wanted to ask him. To every single question, she says, he has responded, “It's a very nice day." Most of the students don‘t want to talk to a reporter. They have no comment. Some think that it‘s wrong of ADAPT to spoil their special day. Others think the group has a right to make itself heard — just not here, not now. One woman who has read the flyers says that "they don‘t want to be prisoners in nursing homes." A man, who hasn‘t read one, says he doesn’t know what they're protesting about but he thinks they have a right to do it. His daughter is graduating today —— with a degree in special education. Each ADAPT contingent blocking an entrance has its contingent of cops. The two `groups` joke with each other and pass the time in small talk. It's a lot like a chess game, says Haines; this trying to puzzle out where Sullivan‘s going to exit. Just about the time it occurs to several of the organizers who have been trying to psych out from which exit Sullivan will be spirited away that the one exit that has no guards on it is the parking lot entrance, a police car comes screaming down the street, makes an abrupt U-turn, and, at that moment, Sullivan's car, driven by Secret Service, shoots out of the entrance. Several ADAPT wheelers are on his tail in a flash, but it's too late. Sullivan again escapes— but the point, say the activists, has been well made to the over 10,000 people who have attended. Thousands of flyers have been passed out. PHOTO by Tom Olin: Inside a cavernous arena filled with people, two plain clothes police or Secret Service men have an ADAPT person (Bob Kafka) by the arms and are trying to lift him. He is sitting on the steps of an aisle leaning forward. To their right a young man in a button up shirt and jeans, a graduate, looks down at them. Caption reads: Getting to see Sullivan. Not. ADAPT makes no effort to block the streets surrounding the Pavilion. Monday‘s a different story. By 11am, both State and Adams Streets are blocked. Downtown Chicago is taking the flyers as fast as they’re being passed out. Many of them are surprisingly in agreement with ADAPT’s call for 25% of the current Medicaid money to be redirected to in-home services. One businessman engages Bob Kafka in a long and intense discussion over the merits of attendant services. He has buddies who were in Viemam, he says, and want the same thing Kafka does. He gives Kafka his card. Many other people are giving ADAPT members their cards, too; they are interested in the issue. Nobody, they say, has brought it up before. Certainly not the Chicago Tribune, which, instead of covering the baccalaureate brouhaha, runs a feature story on a college camp-out. “What I‘m looking for is a reasonable atmosphere to address the issues." Delilah Brummet Flaum, HHS’s Region V Director, would have to shout to make herself heard over downtown Chicago traffic and hundreds of milling demonstrators. And she‘s not shouting. She has come down, along with Chester Stroyny. Regional Director of the HealthCare Financing Administration and HCFA official David DuPre. in response to ADAPT demands. They want to meet with “officials”; they’ve blockaded the Region V HHS headquarters and aren‘t letting anyone in or out — unless they're willing to climb and crawl over protesters. About 20 activists have gotten all the way up to the HHS offices on the 15th floor, and have a bunch of police in there with them. It’s lunchtime by the time Flaum, Stroyny and DuPre are trotted out to Karen Tamley, Bob Kafka and Teresa Monroe and the others in the middle of Adams Street. ADAPT wants them to call Sullivan, to make him come back to Chicago and meet with them. Flaum can’t do that. “I am willing to do anything else you want us to do. to do try to get this resolved,” she’s saying. But she wants the group to be "more reasonable." She tells Tamley that she is “well aware" of ADAPT’s concerns, and that “the Bush Administration is working on non-institutional care options." Anna Stonum asks more questions. People in the crowd are starting to yell that they can’t hear. Flaum is telling Kafka that “shutting down a building“ is not the way to get a meeting with Sullivan. Kafka responds that they‘ve sent at least four letters to Sullivan and he's never responded to a single one. “You know as well as I do that the Secretary sets the tone for the discussion,“ Kafka lectures her. Kafka and DuPre engage in a debate about facts and figures. They can't trip Kafka up; he seems to know as much if not more about the issue than these folks do. At times the officials even seem to agree with him. Not, however, when he charges that “nothing the Secretary has said or done" changes anything “because he's in the pocket of the nursing home industry." “We disagree with that," say all three officials simultaneously. “We do favor the de-institutionalization model." “The damn Secretary has not said one thing — ever - has not even said the word ‘attendant services’ publicly," Kafka yells, and swears that ADAPT will continue to hold the building. “This is not being positive," says Flaum. “These are peoples' lives you’re talking about.” Kafka retorts. Photo Inset: The head of Bob Kafka, looking very intense, below the words "The damn Secretary has never even said the word 'attendant services' publicly." Article continues: “You don’t know what it’s like,” Monroe shouts at the officials when Kafka's done. “I want to talk to Sullivan. You get him here. He has no idea. Don't tell me Sullivan knows.” Monroe’s point, which she makes to Flaum, is that the money should go directly to the disabled person “because no person knows better what they need than the disabled person. Let us have our dignity.” She argues with Stroyny over nursing home inspections. Mark Johnson accuses Sullivan of “being in the pocket of the nursing homes.“ And meetings like this, he charges, aren’t worth a thing “unless there’s a commitment." The group, hearing Johnson, takes the cue: “We want a commitment!" One of the workers in the HHS office has come out for lunch and now finds she cannot get back in over the demonstrators. Still, she thinks what they're doing is “positive.” She’s a volunteer in a nursing home herself, she says, “And I know they’re the pits. People who don't frequent them don't know. These people who are walking around here” — she gestures to lunch-hour Chicagoans moving up and down the street-- “they could become victims of nursing homes, too. I look at these people here" —— and now she means ADAPT — “and I know I wouldn’t want to be jailed up in a nursing home." But then, she believes in protesting, she says. “I think protests are fine. I'm in tune with them. I was with Martin Luther King back in the 60s." she says. “I was in jail with Dr. King. I was 14 years old. That was just what you did; you went to jail. Some of our young people don't understand. “This is how to explain it,” she continues, warming to her subject. “These people want to get heard. We couldn’t get heard in Birmingham, either. That‘s why we marched on Washington." She won’t identify herself, though, but will only say she’s a spectator. But she works upstairs in the HHS office, she says. “And they got time to listen to that TV stuff — people come in talking about that, they make a big deal about the stuff they see on TV. And they got these people out here and they don‘t want to pay attention. When I was upstairs, they were callin’ ‘em ‘beasts’ and “vultures.” It is a measure of the erosion of belief in the system that has become the trademark of ADAPT that, when an EMS ambulance pulls up to the door and the word goes out that police are bringing down a man who’s had a heart attack, the thought passes among the group that this is yet another ploy. They think the stretcher rolled into the lobby and up on the elevator may be a ruse to make them move away from the door, which they nonetheless do, not wanting it to be said that they cared not for another disabled person who might be in danger. And when the man is brought down on the stretcher, there is more speculation: wasn’t he one of the officials out here earlier? Did the confrontation and excitement give him a heart attack? Is he faking? Is it really a medical emergency, or just :1 move to get someone out of the building who has an important meeting to attend and doesn't want it stopped by cripples? No one remembers the man in the stretcher more than a few minutes after the ambulance pulls away, lights rotating, into the Chicago traffic. Jane Garza from El Hogar del Nino is with the protesters. blocking a door by leaning against it. She’s part of the protest. she says: disabled herself, though she knows she doesn’t look it. She works in early childhood education. Some of the signs protesters are carrying were made by the children at her center, she says. “It's a way to bring them into it," she points out. The parents of the disabled kids at the center “are all reasonable people,” she says. “So they understand my being at an activity like this." If she gets arrested, she says, she has an understanding with her agency: they will bail her out. She’s been arrested with ADAPT before. she says; that was in Montreal. She’s been with ADAPT protests in Washington — the one to get the ADA passed; and one in St. Louis. “No one wants to see their child in a nursing home. People can really relate to that." She says the group at her door has been talking to passersby all day about the issue. “I was on the verge of going into a nursing home myself, back in ’82.” says this woman who doesn’t look disabled. When she had her aneurism and was in rehabilitation, she says, the Illinois Department of Rehabilitation Services gave her money with which she was able to pay two people — one for the morning, and one for the evening. “I just needed help getting up and then getting to bed. I was so weak. I just needed minimal assistance, somebody there to help me get dressed. But without that program. they would have put me in a nursing home.” Illinois Gov. Jim Edgar’s budget cuts have forced the Department of Rehabilitation Services to extend a freeze on intakes in that program through the end of 1993. and Edgar, Chicago ADAPT charges, is trying to eliminate a yearly cost-of-living adjustment for attendants. "After I got stronger, I was able to manage on my own. But look at how many people are in my shoes!” she says. “I worked; I had money. I was a social worker back then: one who had to apply for public aid just so I could get assistance." Insert picture: A person (possibly Lonnie Smith) with his head to one side and below the words “We want them to see what it’s like for us.” Article continues... The philosophy and tactic of doorblocking: Let people go in and out, if they’re willing to climb over you and your chair to do it. Arrest is not the objective here; inconveniencing people is. “We want them to see what it's like for us.” says one who has engaged in many door blockings. Photo by Tom Olin: A policeman stands in the middle of the street legs braced in a wide stance and arms streched out. He is holding a man with a cane (Gary Bosworth) with one hand and with the other hand and foot trying to hold back a man (Bob Kafka) in a manual wheelchair who is bent forward pushing. Other police officers are standing in the street, a supervisor is watching, as is a TV cameraman. Other protesters are partially visible at the edges of the scene. Chicago police have a black and white checkered band around their hats that is very distinctive. Article continues- Tuesday morning's Chicago Tribune, instead of covering ADAPT's HHS confrontation. reports on stepped-up security measures at the downtown State of Illinois building where. the Tribune reports, in error, ADAPT was "supposed" to be demonstrating Monday. ADAPT, it says, changed its mind. In fact, ADAPT planned to hit state offices on Wednesday. Speculation abounds as to who fed the paper the false information, the effect of which is to make ADAPT look disorganized. It later becomes apparent that state officials have had a hand in it. There is nothing in the Tribune about the people who stopped along State Street and asked questions, about Flaum, about any of it. The Sun-Times carries a photo inside. At the comer of State and Grant, a baby-blue police wrecker, the same blue as the cars, as the barricades, has blocked a curb ramp. ADAPT has blocked four intersections adjacent to the American Medical Association. Wheelchairs are stretched across 16 streets. At the intersection of Wabash and Grand, in the back, Paulette Patterson is hassling the policemen, mouthing off and chasing them with her motorized chair. It seems she is trying to get arrested. The police are being friendly enough. It won't be until noon that things will get rough. The cops will barricade the main entrances to the glass-walled fortress: many ADAPT members will take that as their cue to launch themselves out of their wheelchairs onto the high-curbed stoop around the building, crawling up to bang and hammer on the wooden barricades. A few find satisfaction in pounding on the glass walls. This will happen, though, only after the confrontation — the confrontation that resulted in Jerry Eubanks of Chicago being dropped from his wheelchair: picked up by his neck, it seems to other protesters, who holler for an “Ambulance! Now!”; the confrontation that causes Patterson to roll from her wheelchair and shriek at the top of her lungs, kicking her legs wildly as police try to pick her up. The police back off; when they come at her again, her screams again drive them back. Finally, Patterson is left alone, and, once more in her wheelchair, rolls off to the side, where she admits slyly and with her trademark smile that she enjoys discomfiting police. “They don't wanna mess with me," she says proudly. Suddenly they are all there again, surging at the entrance, trying to get up the high curb. Stephanie Thomas and Diane Coleman and others are wedging themselves in next to the Chicago Transit Authority paratransit vehicles that are a sure sign of arrests: it's the only way police can haul off a wheelchair to the hoosegow. Allen Leegant is diving under a barricade trying to get up to the entrance. Chris Hronis and Arthur Campbell are trying to follow; they are caught by police. Campbell is carried, spread-eagle, by four cops, directly to a CT A van. Cameras are everywhere; TV crews have materialized out of nowhere. Campbell has been arrested. Mike Auberger has been arrested. Campbell and Auberger are each put into his own van. The police have their eye on Mike Ervin. When you catch a snatch of cop-to-cop talk, you learn they're trying to pick off those they figure to be the leaders. “What the cops never understand is why the demonstration continues after they’ve hauled off the folks they think are leaders," says someone who is blocking a street. “They can’t figure out that arresting leaders doesn’t work; that as soon as they arrest someone, somebody else just moves in." Susan Nussbaum, blocking a side door, answers questions about whether the movement will ever see violence. “There’s always the potential for violence," she is saying. “But it would be good if that could be understood in the context of a larger issue. “I am not in favor of getting my head beaten in." At 3:15 the building starts to empty out. ADAPT has managed to block all the exits, so AMA workers and officials alike are subjected to a gauntlet of taunts as they trot, under tight police protection, down the ramp to the alley and across to the parking garage. The taunts seem mostly to be of the “AMA Shame On You” variety. When ADAPT members arrived at AMA headquarters in the morning, they found tables set up with water coolers and cups of refreshing water awaiting them. Later, the AMA‘s Department of Geriatric Health would confirm for a reporter that the AMA had done this so the disabled people wouldn't get overheated and get sick. Many protesters were wary of the water. Some suspected it had been spiked with Valium: others thought it a ploy to get them to have to pee later on, adding to their discomfort and hopefully ending the demonstration early. Much of the water was left untouched. Water was also running through hoses into the sprinkling system of the AMA‘s lawns. This had the added effect of keeping protesters off the grassy knolls fronting the building. Shortly after ADAPT arrived, one demonstrator had parked his chair on the hose while others moved across the area to block doors. Later, the water was simply turned off. Insert picture: A head and shoulders picture of a protester chanting, with the words "AMA: Shame on you!" "People are dying shame on you!" Article continues- The AMA’s flak, Arnold Collins, was standing around with the TV and radio reporters most of the day. The AMA had issued a statement insisting it “supports the home care objectives of ADAPT." Dr. Joanne Schwartzberg, Director of the AMA's Department of Geriatric Health, said in the news release that a meeting the previous Thursday with ADAPT had been “productive” and that the two `groups` had “considerable common ground.” Campbell, who attended the meeting, had a different analysis. He said he believed Schwartzberg truly had no understanding what ADAPT wanted; that some of their ideas had been totally inconceivable to her. Schwartzberg said ADAPT was the first group she had ever met with and felt “hostility.” “It was a great shock," she said. “I always thought of myself as being a great advocate. But I wasn’t an advocate enough for them." Schwartzberg said that ADAPT didn’t understand that there were “really frail people in nursing homes — a kind of frailty that these disabled don’t have. “I was really scared that the demonstrators might get harmed, the way they throw themselves out of their chairs.” she went on. “They’re very courageous; I think they're a little reckless. Luckily, nobody’s gotten seriously hurt." “Do you think she really believes the things she says, or do you think it’s just a pose?” a filmmaker wondered. The AMA had issued “a guideline for medical management of homecare patients," she said, and they were putting on 8 seminars for doctors “in managing home care.” She knew ADAPT wanted AMA members to divest themselves of their financial interest in nursing homes and cut nursing home admissions. But the AMA couldn‘t do that, she explained patiently. “We are a voluntary body. not a regulatory body." “They couldn't understand why we couldn‘t do more." she said. The Chicago Tribune was still concerned about the State of lllinois building. Every day Tribune stories had chronicled the increasing security at the site. On Tuesday, Paulette Patterson and another disabled woman filed suit in U.S. District Court alleging denial of access due to increased security. Though a temporary restraining order was not granted, Patterson’s attorney, Matthew Cohen, said filing the suit had had the desired effect. The Tribune covered the suit. Photos by Tom Olin: 1) Two protesters (Spitfire and Jimmi Schrode) in the march raise the power fist to woman leaning out of a second floor window yelling and giving them the thumbs up. Below on the sidewalk most people are just walking by but one older man looks on. Spitfire is wearing her combat helmet. 2) A line of ADAPT protesters face a set of barricades on the other side of which are a line of policemen holding the barricades with both hands. Midway down the line of protesters, a man in a wheelchair (Danny Saenz) is turned toward the camera and another protester (Chris Hronis). 3) Close up of a man in a wheelchair (Rene Luna) who sits in front of an almost life sized portrait of IL Governor Edgar. Rene is holding a poster that reads "nursing home industry owns Edgar." Article continues- Finally, on Wednesday, ADAPT obliged the Tribune and state officials by staging a protest at the building, drawing attention to stale policies that were cutting people off from attendant services in Illinois. On Thursday. the Tribune ran a long story on ADAPT. Calling them "a group of vociferous activists savvy in street action." It quoted a miffed Chicago official who refused to be named saying that "one of the strongest points in their civil disobedience is making themselves look as pathetic as possible.“ “The group's history is rife with attention-grabbing acts of protest." said the Tribune. which compared them to ACT-UP and Earth First! protest `groups`. "Though some may question their tactics. none can doubt they have impact.“ said the Tribune. the end - ADAPT (240)
The Cincinnati Enquirer Photo by the Cincinnati Enquirer/Michael E. Keating: Four police officers holding a thin, tall man (Jim Parker)by his legs and arms suspending him in the air while they try to place him in the wheelchair. Another police officer and a passerby at the street corner are visible in background, as well as a city bus parked with its doors open. Caption: Cincinnati Police lower ADAPT activist Jim Parker into his wheelchair after removing him from a Metro bus. He had crawled aboard. [Headline] Group seeks access for wheelchairs By David Wells George Cooper and Bob Kafka climbed aboard a City Metro bus at Government Square Monday, paid their fares and were arrested. Cooper and Kafka were among several dozen members of the American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT) demonstrating this week against Metro and the American Public Transit Association gathered at the Westin Hotel. ADAPT disrupted operations at Metro’s main downtown stop on Government Square for about two hours Monday. Following arrests of Cooper and Kafka, Metro rerouted its buses and avoided further confrontation with the wheelchair-bound demonstrators. ADAPT wants full accessibility for the handicapped on all public transportation facilities. Regular Metro coaches do not have wheelchair lifts. The company does provide transportation for the handicapped with special, lift-equipped Access vans. ADAPT claims that Access vans are unreliable in poor weather and even in good weather require a 24-hour advance reservation. The group also wants the national transit association to adopt a resolution at its Cincinnati convention requiring full access for the handicapped. Wheelchair-confined demonstrators picketed Westin entrances throughout the day but were denied admission to the hotel or adjoining public atrium. Cooper of Dallas, and Kafka of Austin, Texas, were charged with criminal trespass after they refused requests from Metro and the Cincinnati Police to get off the bus. “There are no lifts in these buses. It is not safe (for the handicapped), “said Murray Bond, assistant general manager for the company. Yet, after Cooper and Kafka were arrested, they were transported to the Hamilton County Justice Center on the bus rather than being transferred to a lift van. “That was a judgement call on my part,” said Capt. Dale Menkhaus, who headed the police detail. “It was decided it would be much easier and safer to transport them on the bus than to try to carry them off of it.” Four officers rode with the prisoners to ensure they were not jostled on the five-block trip to jail. Also arrested at the demonstration was Mike Auberger from Denver, who Menkhaus said attempted to block the bus carrying Cooper and Kafka. Auberger was charged with disorderly conduct and taken to the Justice Center in a lift van. Menkhaus said it was “a no win situation” for the police. No matter how sensitively the officers acted, they still had to confront and arrest people in wheelchairs. Officers in that detail were briefed on handling the demonstrators. Menkhaus said. “Our officers were told to ask each individual what the best way to lift him was, even to the point of which limb they would prefer to have moved first.” Still, to the members ADAPT, they were being dragged off the buses. “People were being dragged off the buses because they just wanted to ride,” said Bill Bolte of Los Angeles. When ADAPT member Rick James, a cerebral palsy victim repeatedly tried to roll his motorized chair into the street and in front of buses, police officers unplugged the chair’s battery. It left James immobile on the sidewalk. Other ADAPT members reconnected the battery and James pulled up in front of another bus. Metro eventually took the bus out of service and left it parked at the stop during the demonstration. At the Justice Center, all three prisoners co-operated fully with deputies, said Sheriff Lincoln Stokes. About five other demonstrators boarded buses that pulled in the stops at Government Square but they got off the bus when asked to do so, Menkhaus said. - ADAPT (617)
Atlanta Journal Constitution Disabled end protest siege at Morehouse By Ben Smith III, Staff writer (This story continues on ADAPT 630 but the entire text is included here for ease of reading.) PHOTO (by Dianne Laakso/Staff): A medium close up of a glass doorway framed in metal. Slightly opened you can see through the opening and the glass a woman (Julie Nolan) in a manual wheelchair seated and blocking the door. She is looking out a far away look in her eye and one arm rests on the inside push handle of the door, while her other strong hand is spread on her leg. She is wearing a teal T-shit and jeans. The writing in her T-shirt is partially obscured by folds and by the door frame but you can make out what appears to be "EQUAL ACCESS NOW" and around these words what appears to be a circle saying "Cape Organization for [Rights of the Disabled]. Disabled activists ended their occupation of a Morehouse College administration building today, leaving with what they said was a statement from the college saying it sympathized with the group’s concerns. About 50 members of ADAPT, or American Disabled for Attendant Programs Today, left the building carrying a statement written on Morehouse President Leroy Keith's stationery. But the statement was not signed or read by any college official, and college officials refused to comment or come out of the building. Meanwhile, another group of disabled activists continued their protest against the nursing home industry and the federal government’s policies on the disabled by barricading the Georgia Health Care Association’s (GHCA) office in Decatur. More than 75 protesters in wheelchairs blocked the entrances and driveways of the GHCA’s headquarters on Memorial Drive early this afternoon, trapping six people in the office. The protesters delivered their demands to GHCA executive vice president Fred Watson, who refused to honor them. The protesters were demanding that Mr. Watson fax a list of their demands to the American Health Care Association, with which the Georgia organization is affiliated. The demands included redirection of federal and state money away from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Watson said, “I’ll send a letter, but not right now.” DeKalb County police who arrived at the scene said they have no plans to arrest the demonstrators. “That’s the last thing we want to do," said Lt. J.W. Austin. “We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place." The disabled activists had occupied the Morehouse College administration building for a day and a half. About 200 demonstrators had taken over Gloster Hall on the Morehouse campus in southwest Atlanta and barricaded the president's office Monday. David Veatch, 24, a Utica, N.Y., member of ADAPT, said, “We are going to let them know that the nursing home lobby needs to reform. We're talking to our captors about our rights.” Earlier, ADAPT members said they wanted Dr. Keith to write a letter to Health and Human Services Secretary Louis Sullivan, asking him to support the organization's position and meet with group members sometime in the near future. But Dr. Keith said he would not write or sign such a letter. “We have no business intervening in this situation where we have no authority," he said. ADAPT wants the federal government to redirect 25 percent of the Medicaid budget from nursing homes to home care. Mr. Veatch estimated the total federal budget for the disabled at more than $17.5 billion. Protesters argue that shifting federal funds to home care for the disabled is more humane and more cost-efficient. Michael Auberger, an ADAPT co-founder, estimated that 250,000 disabled people are being held in nursing homes against their will.” He said that redirecting funds to home care could aid an additional 150,000 disabled people. Mr. Veatch said it costs $30,000 a year to house a disabled person in a nursing home and only $6,000 to $8,000 to care for them at home. “But handicapped continue to be housed in nursing homes," Mr. Veatch said, because we don’t have to deal with the fact that we don’t have accessible communities or accessible buses if we lock them up.” “The ghetto in Soweto is no different than a nursing home,” Mr. Auberger said. You’re locked in there. You don’t have the freedom to leave. You don’t have a choice of what you eat, what time you go to bed or what time you get up. Your freedoms are so restricted that you’re better off being in the Fulton County Jail.” Group members were angry at Dr. Sullivan for not responding to their invitation to meet with them although he spoke at an AIDS symposium in Atlanta last week. “Morehouse Medical College invited him to speak. He came. This group invited him to speak on an issue as serious as AIDS. He chose to ignore the issue," Mr. Auberger said. The protesters said they chose to come to Georgia, in part, because the state is one of the worst at caring for the disabled. Mark Johnson of Alpharetta a spokesman for the Georgia branch of ADAPT, said the state offers no state-funded care for disabled people outside of nursing homes and no matching supplements for federal disability benefits. Most states offer such assistance, Mr. Johnson added. Protesters also complained that residential care facilities can be opened in Georgia with nothing more than a a business license. Staff writer Lyle Harris and The Associated Press contributed to this report. PHOTO, by Johnny Crawford/Staff: A line of people in wheelchairs and dark ADAPT "no steps" T-Shirts head toward the camera, traveling along the side of a road. Beside them are parked cars and onlookers. In the front is Lee Jackson in a white ADAPT sweatshirt; he is being pushed by Babs Johnson. Behind them is Mike Auberger, with his leg extended out in front of him. Behind him is Clayton Jones, and next is Frank McComb being pushed by Lori Eastwood, and behind them faces become blurrier, but you can see Arthur Campbell. Caption reads: More than 150 advocates for the handicapped move down Westview Drive at Morehouse College. At the front of the line is Lee Jackson. - ADAPT (458)
This article is continued in photo 451, but the text of the entire article is included here for ease of reading. The Handicapped Coloradan May 1989 VOL. 11, NO. 11 Boxed text in masthead: If you use a wheelchair and ever tried — or wanted -- to board an accessible bus in Detroit between Nov. 10, 1984, and the present, you owe it to yourself to read Justin Ravitz‘s story on p. 3. Photo: Man, in a dark suit standing against a white background with his hands in his pockets. He has dark hair and large eye glasses, a firm thoughtful look on his face. Caption reads: Mayor Pena tells UMTA officials they have a “moral obligation" to put lifts on buses. [Headline] Court grants transit rehearing In the wake of an often ugly battle with police, hotel security guards and the courts in Reno, wheelchair activists are heading for Philadelphia where the U.S. Court of Appeals has agreed to vacate its Feb. 13 decision to require all new buses purchased with federal funds to be equipped with wheelchair lifts. The case will now be heard by the entire 13-member court rather than the three judges who originally handed down the decision on a 2-l vote. The rehearing was requested by the Department of Transportation and the Department of Justice. Six disabled leaders had met with President Bush in an attempt to persuade him to call off the appeal. Bush didn't give them an answer at the time, said Wade Blank, one of the founders of the radical American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT), "but it's obvious the President has no intention of taking our side." So when the court convenes at 10 a.m. May 15, scores of wheelchair demonstrators will be outside chanting, "We will ride," the battle-cry of the six-year old movement. At press time, demonstrators were planning on arriving in Philadelphia on May 12 and demonstrating in front of the Justice Department there, up to but not including being arrested. "That will come later," Blank said. On Saturday, demonstrators are expected to attempt to board city buses, crawling onto them if necessary, and to otherwise disrupt service until Philadelphia transit officials sign an agreement promising to provide accessible service. Then on Sunday, the day before court opens, demonstrators will don Revolutionary War uniforms and march from Independence Hall to the federal courthouse, led by fife and drum. The movement is at a crossroads, Blank said, pointing out that many of his fellow activists are afraid that the court will reverse its pro-accessibility vote when its decision is made known, 30 to 90 days from now. Many of those activists are reluctant to appeal the decision to the U.S. Supreme Court if they lose in the Court of Appeals, arguing that the high court has a conservative majority, “We might have to wait 20 years before we get a liberal court," Blank said. "Better we find out where we stand with the court right now and then decide on a course of action." ADAPT has had plenty of experience with conservative judges in recent weeks, according to Blank, who said he broke down and cried at the treatment wheelchair defendants received in the Sparks courtroom of judge Don Gladstone. Gladstone told demonstrators that their mass arrests had "tarnished" their cause and suggested that the group needed "new leadership." Blank said Gladstone's courtroom was a zoo. "He locked the doors and screamed at us." Gladstone wasn't the only person in Reno and Sparks who was upset with ADAPT, which was there to protest at a regional meeting of the American Public Transit Association (APTA) as they have done in 16 other cities over the latter group's refusal to endorse mandatory accessibility for all transit systems in the country. The police weren’t very happy, either. Some 72 demonstrators were arrested during the 5-day-long protest, with about half of that number going to jail. City officials estimated that the protest cost local taxpayers at least $116,000. Police estimated their costs of controlling the group at $79,275, while the sheriff's department, which runs the Washoe County jail, placed its costs at about $34,164. Gladstone said municipal court costs will run about $3,000. But it wasn't just the money that bothered city and county officials. "While (the police) are out there handling these individuals and you cal 911, the response times change dramatically,” said Sparks Municipal Court judge Andy Cray. Police Lt. Tony Zamboni said, "We understand these people have certain rights, but they also don't have the right to obstruct other citizens." Sheriff Vince Swinney agreed with Zamboni and also seemed a bit miffed that the media were playing up the plight of the demonstrators. "Somebody should realize this is what these people want to do," he said. "if they were treated like royalty, they wouldn't be happy. And the media is playing it up 100 percent. I really think that we who have been here and will continue to be here deserve some credibility." ADAPT organizer Mike Auberger, 34, of Denver, said that the Washoe County jail was not prepared to deal with housing 30 disabled prisoners, although sheriffs department officials disagreed, saying that extra doctors and nurses were on duty. Twenty-two of the jailed demonstrators staged a hunger strike, including one woman who was warned by a doctor that she would ultimately go into seizures if she participated in the fast. Another demonstrator, Diane Coleman, an attorney from Los Angeles, was taken from the jail at 3 a.m. Tuesday morning when she started vomiting. Coleman was taken to the Washoe Medical Center where she was given liquids intravenously for dehydration. Headline for part 2 of article: Reno protest turns ugly as judge lectures ADAPT ”Get new leaders. ” Blank said that three or four demonstrators had to be hospitalized when they returned home because of inadequate care received at the jail. For example, Auberger was not allowed to empty his leg bag and he went into hyper reflex, according to Blank. “His blood pressure shot up to 300 and nearly blew his head off," Blank said. Unable to place a call to fellow ADAPT members in Sparks, Auberger was forced to call his parents in Indiana to see about getting help. Ultimately, Auberger had to bail himself out of jail in order to get medical treatment. “That's when the police began telling other jailed demonstrators that their leaders were bailing out on them," Blank said. Demonstrators also complained that the police in Reno and Sparks were rougher than the ones they had dealt with in other cities, pointing out that more of them were actually handcuffed than was usually the case. Most of the demonstrations took place outside the Nugget Casino and Hotel, which was serving as APTA's convention headquarters. Some 700 delegates were staying there. Demonstrators attempted to block all the entrances to the hotel to show APTA delegates what it is like not to have access to public institutions, buildings and buses. One demonstrator, Beverly Furnice, said her knee was broken when a Nugget security guard hit her leg as she was wheeling up to the door on the southeast side of the hotel. Nugget spokesperson Parley Johnson said he was sorry to hear about Furnice. “We made every possible effort to ensure the safety of all involved," he said. "However, if we have someone trying to get in, and we're trying to get the doors closed, what can I say? The person (trying to get in) is contributing to the problem. "We could not allow the group to come in and disrupt our business and cause problems with our customers. And we have every right to do this." Judge Gladstone several times commented on how well the hotel staff and police handled the situation. “He's just a front man for the casinos," Blank commented. On the other hand, demonstrators had nothing but praise for Reno's Citifare public transit system, which has already made a commitment toward a 100 percent lift-equipped bus system. All Citifare buses bought since 1984 have lifts, and the system expects its nonaccessible buses to be phased out by 1996. "We're not fighting Reno or any other city," Auberger said. “We're fighting APTA." Less than three weeks later, demonstrators were doing just that again, this time in Denver, where ADAPT was founded in 1983, Some 30 demonstrators were arrested as they protested outside the Radisson Hotel, where the Urban Mass Transit Association (UMTA) was holding a national transportation conference. The next day, April 25, 40 demonstrators, 30 of them in wheelchairs, were forcibly removed from the Federal Building at 9th and Stout by federal officers. Demonstrators were protesting word that the Department of Transportation, of which UMTA is part, had decided to appeal the Court of Appeals decision. "We are tried of winning lawsuits and never getting them implemented," said protester Maureen O'Rourke. UMTA‘s Alfred A. DelliBovi disagreed with the original court decision, saying his agency supports letting each transit provider decide how to handle disabled riders. Earlier Mayor Federico Pena met with ADAPT and reiterated his strong support for their goals, a statement he repeated when he met later with UMTA officials. Pena was responsible for forcing APTA officials to allow ADAPT to address its national convention in Denver in 1983. That is the only time ADAPT members have been allowed inside an APTA convention. - ADAPT (188)
Dallas Times Herald, Saturday Nov. 24, 1984 [Headline] Wheelchair activist adopt radical tactics Los Angeles Times WASHINGTON — It was a scene reminiscent of the 1960s civii rights demonstrations as angry protesters chanted slogans, picketed the White House and stopped traffic before they were finally dragged away by police. And the series of confrontations that ended with 27 arrests last month all seemed to come down to a similar central issue —- the right to sit on a bus, to have full access to public transportation. There was one striking difference, however. Unlike Rosa Parks and the black civil rights activists who battered down the Jim Crow barriers in the South, these protesters were in wheelchairs, and their goal was equal access for the physically handicapped. "It's a civil right to be able to ride public transportation," says Julia Haraksin, a wheelchair-bound Los Angeles resident who participated in the demonstrations. Organizations representing handicapped persons long have urged Washington to require that all new buses and rail systems built with funds from the Department of Transportation's Urban Mass Transportation Administration be equipped to accommodate handicapped riders. But Haraksin and other handicapped individuals are beginning to press the old arguments with more radical tactics. Frustrated by years of negotiating, lobbying in Washington, going through the courts and staging non-confrontational protests, some handicapped activists now are resorting to confrontations and civil disobedience. Thus, early in October, 100 members of a newly formed coalition called American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit confronted a national meeting of city transportation heads here, using the kind of civil disobedience tactics used 20 years earlier by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Protesters were arrested when they blocked entrances and buses of those attending the American Public Transit Association convention. “The strategy was to physically be a barrier because handicapped people have to face barriers all their lives," Wade Blank, a founder of Denver-based ADAPT, said. Calling the protests here “our Selma," leaders of ADAPT claimed a public relations victory and promised their struggle has only begun. They already are focusing their efforts on what they hope will be a larger demonstration at the next meeting of the American Public Transportation Association a year from now in Los Angeles. But their cause may be in for a tough battle. Their opposition comes from the Reagan administration, from many city governments and even from within the handicapped community. And as public attention focuses on the underlying budget choices involved, the opposition may swell with the addition of taxpayers concerned about the possible costs of a national full-access program. ADAPT argues a legal right to full access for the handicapped already exists. Federal law states Urban Mass Transportation Administration funds — which account for about 80 percent of the costs of the equipment in most municipal transportation systems —- cannot be spent on programs that discriminate against, or exclude, the handicapped. The law does not make clear, however, whether handicapped persons must be provided with access to regular bus lines or whether they can instead be provided with alternative transportation systems. Nor does it indicate who should make that decision. Current Department of Transportation policy, which is strongly supported by the American Public Transportation Association, allows each city to make its own decision on what type of transportation it will provide for the handicapped. This is in sharp contrast with Carter administration policy, which in 1979 interpreted federal regulations to mean full access. Members of ADAPT, opposing the separate-but-equal philosophy, argue that paratransit does not meet the needs of the handlcapped and is inherently discriminatory. “lt segregates the disabled people trom the able-bodied community," Mike Auberger, an organizer for ADAPT, said. Because paratransit requires advanced scheduling, sometimes weeks before a ride is needed, he said, “you have to schedule your life according to the transit system." Transit authorities, on the other hand, argue full access can be too expensive, given the low percentage of handicapped riders in many cities. Lift-fitted buses cost an estimated $8,000 to $10,000 more than regular buses. Furthermore, lift systems are often unreliable and time-consuming to operate and maintain, authorities add. In Denver, for example, the transportation district has spent $6.3 million to purchase or retrofit buses with lifts, 80 percent of which was paid for by the federal government, according to spokesman Gene Towne. Since it started mainline access in 1982, the district has spent close to $1 million in maintenance of the lifts and expects to spend an additional $900,000 this year. Yet only 12,000 of the district's 38 million riders use the lifts, according to Towne. ADAPT counters the issue is not cost but civil liberties. "In America, we have a way of hiding our prejudices with pragmatism," said Blank, a Presbyterian minister and veteran of the civil rights and anti-war movements of the 1960s who now supports handicapped activists. Across the country, cities are using a variety of approaches to the problems of providing mass transit for the handicapped. ln Los Angeles, mainline access is required by state law. Although 1,850 of the Southern California Rapid Transit District's 2,400 buses are fitted with wheelchair lifts, some local advocates charge that broken lifts, drivers who do not know how to use the equipment or refuse to do so and an overall lack of commitment to providing access limits the system. [Bottom of the page is torn so missing text is included in brackets, as it is just a guess.] In Seattle, 570 of 1,100 buses serve the handicapped, providing about 5,900 rides a month. [The] Municipality of Metropolitan Seattle also contracts with groups to supply paratransit [vans] and half-fare cab service, [providing] 8,400 rides a month. In Denver, 432 of the [city's] buses are lift- or ramp-[equipped] providing more than 1,00[0 rides] per month. The city also [uses] vans and small buses in a transit system that provides [x number of] rides a month. None of Chicago's 2,400 [mainline] buses is fitted with lifts. [Instead] the city provides 42 [paratransit] buses, which offer 12,000 [rides per] month. - ADAPT (543)
PHOTO by Tom Olin: Close up of Mike Auberger with mouth open chanting. Around his neck is a kryptonite lock locked to a second lock, which is locked to a revolving door. He wears and ADAPT bandanna around his head and long braids. Caption reads: ADAPT member Mike Auberger puts his neck on the line. DISABILITY RIGHTS ADVOCATES TURN UP THE HEAT IN CAPITOL In more ways than one, the heat was turned up in Washington, D.C. during the week of March 11 to March 17, 1990. Weather records were shattered as the mercury climbed to 89 degrees on Monday and remained hot all week; the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin bloomed three weeks early. There was another heat wave going on as people with disabilities from all over the country converged on the Capitol to push for the Americans with Disabilities Act, which passed the Senate last September and is now stalled in the House. On Monday, March l2, we gathered in front of the White House at noon. Over 1000 strong, most in wheelchairs but including people who are deaf and blind, we marched down Pennsylvania Avenue, the 17 blocks to the U.S. Capitol. We carried signs and chanted “ADA Now!" At the Capitol, Justin Dart, chairman of the President's Committee, said that partial equality is not equality: “We want an end to discrimination against the disabled, the nation's most impoverished, isolated and segregated minority." King Jordan, president of Gallaudet University, warned “If we don’t get what we want, we will be back to stay." Mike Auberger, from ADAPT, closed with a stirring speech. “We are Americans," he said, “and we want the same rights as everyone else." After the speeches, many abandoned their wheelchairs and climbed the 83 steps on the west front of the Capitol, as a symbolic gesture dramatizing the barriers that the disabled still face. On Tuesday, many assembled in the huge rotunda inside the U.S. Capitol and heard speeches by Speaker Thomas Foley, Congressman Robert Michel and Congressman Stenny Hoyer of Maryland, who is coordinating the House legislative effort on ADA. Hearing that no promises could be given as to the date of a House vote, many started chanting “ADA Now!" Many were arrested for illegal entry, carried in police vans to a police facility and then to court for paper work. Many did not get back to the hotel until midnight. It was a matter of individual conscience whether anyone was arrested; many chose not to, believing that the legislative process has been working well so far. On Wednesday. about 60 were arrested at the Rayburn Building in and near the office of Congressman Bud Shuster of Pennsylvania, who had supported some weakening amendments to ADA. On Thursday, a small group (their numbers reduced because so many were in court) assembled at housing and urban development and asked to see secretary Jack Kemp; he was out of town but Undersecretary Alfred Dellabovi came down. There was a productive talk concerning the Fair Housing Amendment Act of 1988. Some weakening amendments to the Housing Act, relating to access standards, had been proposed; the disability groups strongly opposed. On Friday, some members of ADAPT protested at the Greyhound terminal. Some of the strongest opposition to ADA has come from Greyhound and other private bus companies, who fear that the cost of wheelchair lifts will be excessive. But the disability groups claim as much a right to be on a bus as anyone else. After a glorious week, the participants began the long journey home by train, bus, airplane or dust-covered van. Though many other disability groups were involved, much credit goes to Wade Blank, Mike Auberger, Bob Kafka, and Mark Johnson, all of ADAPT. It‘s too early to tell whether our goals have been reached, but there was a feeling of solidarity. and of a successful crusade on behalf of equal rights for disabled people in employment, in transportation, in housing, in places of public accommodation, in every aspect of American life. That, indeed, is the purpose of the Americans with Disabilities Act. —Richard B. Treanor At the bottom of the page is a Callahan cartoon: Three women in a row. First woman is in a wheelchair and below her it says "M.S." Second woman is standing with a walker and below her it says "M.D." Third woman is very overweight and below her it says "M&Ms". - Rotunda part 1
This is part 1 of the story of the ADAPT protest in the Capitol Rotunda to call for passage of the ADA with no weakening amendments. The ADA had become bogged down in the House and there was concern the bill would not pass. The day after the Wheels of Justice March and the Capitol Crawl, ADAPT took over the Rotunda of the United States Capitol building and over 100 people were arrested protesting for our civil rights. This is almost raw footage and gives a real sense of the event as it unfolded. Part 2 of this action is included in the next video Capitol Rotunda part 2. - ADAPT (255)
8B The Cincinnati Post, Monday,May19,1986 Title: Disabled activist group faces arrest By Edwina Blackwell, Post staff reporter Cincinnati police will arrest members of a national handicapped activist group today if they fulfill a vow to block and chain themselves to Queen City Metro buses to protest the inaccessibility of buses to the handicapped. Michael Auberger, community organizer for American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT). said the group's civil disobedience will take a more disruptive turn as the week progresses. “Whatever it, takes to disable the bus, that's what we'll do to show that the bus is inaccessible," Auberger said during a Sunday protest by the group at the downtown Westin Hotel, where public transit officials are meeting. However, Police Capt. Dale Menkhaus said extra officers will patrol the downtown streets where protesters say they will block buses and chain themselves to bumpers while the buses are stopped for traffic lights. “We're prepared to do whatever necessary to protect them (the protesters) and the general public. If they elect to violate the law, they will pay the consequences," Menkhaus said. About 85 ADAPT members - who have been arrested during similar protests in other cities — made their way Sunday afternoon from the Newport Travelodge to the Westin Hotel, where the American Public Transit Association is meeting. With most of its members confined to wheelchairs, some of the protesters relied upon able-bodied members to push them through the streets. Several of the protesters were draped with chains and locks that they plan to use to chain themselves to buses. Extra Cincinnati police officers guided the march and some were waiting for the group at the Westin, where the protesters were greeted with barricades at each of the hotel's entrances. The demonstrators arrived at the Westin and picketed in front of the hotel's entrances on Vine, Fifth and Walnut streets. “We will ride!“ they chanted. There were no arrests Sunday, although police warned pickets they would be arrested if they blocked the hotel's entrances. Menkhaus met with the protesters Sunday and cautioned that they would be arrested if they disrupted bus traffic. Auberger, a former Cincinnatian who now lives in Denver, was pleased with Sunday's protest. Leaning back in his wheelchair with a lock and chain around his neck, he said, "I think we made a strong statement to APTA and Cincinnati that disabled people aren't powerless." Murray Bond, assistant general manager for Queen City Metro, said the city-owned transit company has been working with police for several weeks in anticipation of protests by ADAPT. Members of ADAPT, a Denver—based organization, arrived in Cincinnati to coincide with the eastern education and training conference of the APTA. Nearly 600 transit officials are attending the five-day meeting, which ends Thursday. The convention's general session was to begin this morning. U.S. Rep. Martin Sabo. D-Minn., will give the keynote address. On Wednesday, the conference will address the transportation needs of the disabled during a 2 p.m. workshop. Auberger said the risk the group's members take shows how important it is to them to be able to use public transportation at will. "The point is so vital to make," he said. Bond said Queen City Metro knows of the tactics used in other cities. “Our chief concern is for the safety of the people and our riders," he said. In Cincinnati, ADAPT wants Queen City Metro to operate the wheelchair lifts currently soldered into place on 87 buses. The group also wants all buses purchased in the future to be equipped with wheelchair lifts. At present, 19 vans are used to pick up handicapped individuals in Cincinnati through a contracted service called Access. Judith Van Ginkel, director of communications for Queen City Metro, said the service was recently expanded to include three more neighborhoods and [unreadable] for those who don't need wheelchair lifts. She added it would cost Queen City Metro $350,000 to make the lifts on the 87 buses operational. Albert Engelken, APTA deputy executive director, said money problems being faced by transit systems are at the root of transportation for the handicapped. "We don't see this as a civil rights issue," he said. "We see this as a funding issue." ADAPT disagrees. Jerry Eubanks lost his legs to gangrene as a child. On Sunday, he served as a group cheerleader pushing for what he sees as a civil right for the handicapped. "When you make transportation, it's public. It's for everyone," said Eubanks, a Chicago resident. “We're only fighting for what's already here. " - ADAPT (403)
The Riverfront Times, ST. LOUIS' LARGEST WEEKLY: 211,962 READERS EVERY WEEK! MAY 18-24, 1988 [This article continues in ADAPT 398, but the entire text is included here for easier reading] PHOTO: Three plain clothes policemen try to hold back a man in a motorized wheelchair (Ken Heard). One is behind Ken, one beside him holding the armrest and the third is in front bending forward trying to manipulate the driving mechanism that is on the footrest of Ken's wheelchair. (Ken drove his chair with his foot.) Ken is in shorts and an ADAPT shirt and wears a pony tail and head band, and he is leaning forward concentrating on trying to control his chair. A uniformed policeman looks on from behind or is possibly looking to help. On the right side of the photo, another man in a scooter (Tommy Malone from KY) is watching. Behind him is a set of glass doors and blocking one is a woman in a wheelchair (Barbara Guthrie of Colorado Springs). She is wearing dark glasses and a brimmed hat as well as her ADAPT shirt. title: Picket To Ride, Why the disabled take to the streets to get down the road by Joseph Schuster For most who want to take the bus, the biggest problem is finding exact change to drop into the fare box. But for disabled persons dependent on wheelchairs, the fare box is more a slot machine: Their chance of getting on a bus is frequently as unlikely as hitting the jackpot. The problem is an acute shortage of buses equipped with wheelchair lifts to get disabled passengers into the bus. In St. Louis, less than one-fourth of the 690 buses operated by Bi-State Development Agency are equipped with lifts; only half of those available lifts function. The story is the same in almost every city across the United States, and now disabled rights activists are pointing to the lack of accessible transportation as the most significant problem facing the disabled today. "In the past (disabled groups) placed education and employment programs high as a priority," says Mike Auberger, a leader and founder of American Disabled for Accessible Public Transit (ADAPT). "But we've always seen that as the biggest joke: 'Hire the handicapped.' You can give me a job, one that pays a good salary, but if I can't drive (because of a disability) and can't take a bus, there's no way in heaven you can hire me. It's been, 'Here, let's put this piece of the pie out here for you but not give you a way to reach it. The unemployment rate among disabled Americans is appallingly high. The most recent figures available for St. Louis are from the 1980 census, says Russ Signorino spokesman for the Missouri Division of Employment Security. [at this point in the article the first column is cut off on the left, slightly] According to that census, there were 119.000 [disa]bled St. Louisans. but only 48,000 were in [the] work force. says Signorino. Of the 71,000 of the labor force. 59.000 did not work [bec]ause their disability prevented them from [emp]loyment. The balance of 12,000 disabled [unclear]ons were so-called "discouraged workers." [Indi]viduals who had stopped looking for work [beca]use of various factors. ‘You're going to find a higher percentage of [disc]ouraged workers among the disabled (than [amo]ng the general population)." Signorino [said]. Nationally, less than one-third of the country's 13 million disabled are in the labor force, according to the Statistical Abstract of the United States 1986, the most recent edition to {unclear] information on the employment status of disabled Americans. Of those who are in the work force, almost {unclear]-fifth are unemployed. ("Discouraged" workers are not included in the work force; those who are unemployed. but looking for work. are.) This is compared, in the same year, with the able-bodied population of the country, which nearly 70 percent of 133 million persons were in the workforce and 9.6 percent of those were unemployed. The problem of lack of access to public transit brought Auberger and more than 100 other members of ADAPT to St. Louis this week to demonstrate at the annual meeting of Eastern region of the American Public Transit Authority [sic] (APTA), the industry's [principal] trade organization. ADAPT wants the transit industry to move toward what ADAPT calls "100 percent accessibility." That is every bus in the country would have wheelchair lifts. But APTA opposes that saying it is impractical and too expensive. It favors, instead, what is known as "local option." Each transit authority would decide how it would make public transportation accessible for the disabled, using either buses equipped with lifts, paratransit vans with lifts (the so-called dial-a-ride services, or a combination of the two. Right now, 18 percent of the nation's systems use lift-equipped buses exclusively, 44 percent use paratransit vans and the remainder — including St. Louis — use a combination. Nationally, according to APTA Deputy Executive Director Albert Engelken, one in three buses is lift-equipped. That is progress, Engelken says. In 1980, only about 11 percent of the nation's buses were lift-equipped. But for ADAPT and others in the disabled community, the progress is too slow. “I'm damned impatient," says Jim Tuscher, vice-president of programs for Paraquad, a St. Louis non-profit agency that serves disabled people. "I personally have been involved with Bi-State for well over 10 years, negotiating, trying to get an accessible transit system and today we still do not have an adequate system. Sure, their attitude is better now than it was 10 years ago, in that they are willing to cooperate with the disabled community. They had to be dragged, kicking and screaming into this. But I‘m a results person and so far I haven't seen any. I still can't go out to the corner and take a bus." Currently, 171 (24.8 percent) of Bi-State's 690 buses are equipped with wheelchair lifts. Tom Sturgess, the company's director of communication, says the system has a goal of 100 percent wheelchair accessibility, but getting there is a slow process. Later this summer, the number of lift-equipped buses will be increased to 238, but that will still mean that only one in three Bi-State buses can be used by a disabled person. Sturgess says Bi-State has notified its manufacturer that it will be buying another 60 lift-equipped buses sometime in the near future. Of the company's present 171 wheelchair lifts, only 85 (or just less than half) function. “We've had a lot of problems with them." says Sturgess. “The new buses we're getting will have a different kind of lift in them, one we think will work. Of those we have, we're in the process of repairing as many as we can, but some will never operate again. We're convinced it wouldn't be economically feasible to do so. The biggest problem is the salt they spread on the streets and highways. It sprays up into the lift mechanism, corrodes the wires and rusts the lifts.“ Because there are so few lift-equipped buses at present, only 16 to 18 of Bi-State's 129 routes have accessible buses, says Todd Plesko, Bi-State's director of service planning and scheduling. But not every bus that travels those routes has a lift. For example, on Bi - ADAPT (156)
Rocky Mountain News Tues. Oct. 2, 1984 Denver, Colo. PHOTO (AP LASER PHOTO): A protester in a manual wheelchair and a puffy coat (Renata Conrad), screams as police force her arms behind her back. One uniformed officer stands behind her forcing her forward. One stands in front, his arms stretched in front. The third stands watching with his notebook in his hand and his pen or maybe a cigarette in his mouth. Caption reads: Washington police restrain wheelchair-bound women during protest at transit conference. [Headline] Disabled Denverites held at D.C. protest By JOSEPH B. VERRENGIA Rocky Mountain News Staff Writer WASHINGTON — Fourteen wailing handicapped protesters, including some from Denver, were arrested here Monday when they used their wheelchairs, crutches and limp bodies to briefly blockade a national meeting of transit executives. Among those arrested were Mike Auberger, Bob Conrad, Mark Ball and Glen Damen, all of Denver. Richard Male of Denver, an able-bodied demonstrator, also was arrested, as were nine other protesters from New York, Texas, Illinois and Connecticut. The 14 were among more than 35 people who converged on the annual meeting of the American Public Transit Association at the Washington Convention Center. They were fined $50 apiece for blocking a public building. ADAPT, a Denver-based militant handicapped rights group, raised an estimated $30,000 this year to send the protesters to Washington and to train disabled groups nationwide in political demonstration and lobbying techniques. Two of the protesters who were arrested and fined were treated at a local hospital for minor injuries and released. "The police got pretty physical,“ said ADAPT spokesman Wade Blank of Denver. "We had been causing civil disobedience all week. We expected it (the arrests) to happen. It was just a matter of when." Monday's arrests capped a year of growing tension between handicapped activists and transit officials over the issue of accessibility to the handicapped. “This is not something that we are especially proud of,"said ADAPT member Mark Johnson, as he pounded on the plexiglass door of the convention center with a wooden crutch. "We are here because there has been a resistance to us," said Johnson, who ran unsuccessfully for the RTD Board of Directors in 1980. Johnson said ADAPT is demanding that the transit convention vote to make all public transit systems accessible to the handicapped, that those systems only purchase buses equipped with wheelchair lifts, and that the Federal Government reinstate a regulation mandating accessibility. Convention officials said the demonstrators delayed their program for a few minutes, but caused no damage. Last year, RTD hosted the annual transit convention. Although handicapped activists picketed the meeting, their protests were less forceful. In addition, the protesters last year were allowed to address the convention, a privilege refused them this year. "They requested a slot, but we already had everything filled," convention spokesman Albert Engelken said. "There have been some problems. They (protesters) have been pretty aggressive." The demonstrators suddenly appeared at 10 a.m, just as hundreds of transit executives arrived at the convention center on a convoy of shuttle buses from their hotels. Washington police tried to block the advancing wheelchairs. However, they quickly became entangled with the front line of handicapped men and women and were outflanked by the rest of the demonstrators. Chanting "we will ride. it's our right," the protesters wedged their wheelchairs between the doors of the convention center. Many of them threw themselves out of their chairs and sprawled on the sidewalk to block the doors. Monday's demonstration was the third in a series of protests organized by ADAPT. On Thursday, a dozen protesters blocked seven Washington Metro buses in front of the White House during the evening rush hour. On Sunday, another contingent blocked a chartered bus carrying the spouses of 50 transit executives who were touring the nation's capital. After being trapped for an hour, the spouses finally crawled over the crippled protesters to get to their hotel. The protest overshadowed the speeches to the packed convention by U.S. Secretary of Transportation Elizabeth Dole and New York City Mayor Ed Koch. Dole abandoned much of her highly partisan prepared speech, choosing instead to repeat the Reagan administration's compromise offer for accessible public transit. "Transit authorities receiving federal funds would be required to make at least half of their peak hour bus fleet accessible, provide para-transit for special services or offer some combination of these options," Dole said. Both sides are cool to the proposal. Transit executives complain it will cost too much considering that only 5 percent of the country's transit passengers are disabled. Many disabled groups, meanwhile, reject Dole's offer because they say it endorses separate but equal service.