Author: National ADAPT

Los Angeles was my first trip. It started with Bob Kafka inviting me to go on a ADAPT action, I remember it was in September of 1985. I thought we were going on a vacation to the beach and Disneyland. Little did I know we were going to a demonstration for the rights of disabled Americans to ride public transportation. I thought to myself “What the HELL did Bob get me into!”

I remember waking up early in the morning, lining up to march down city streets, converging on different locations where the conventions were being held and demonstrating about the indifference that they felt about making buses accessible.

As many people as possible would try to enter the building before the police would lock us out and arrest those inside. So we quickly moved to the intersections and rolled around the crosswalks to disrupt the rush hour traffic around the location. That made the police force and transit officials very aggravated. Mayhem is the word to explain what was going on. We knew what we were doing, but no one else did, it was great.

Later that night we gathered at the LA County jail for a cold night of a vigil to help those that had been taken there earlier. To let those folks know that they were not alone, we were still with them. Amazement is what I saw, all of these folks coming together for something so powerful, something that we all agreed upon “CAN YOU HEAR US ON THE INSIDE?”

The next day when everyone was out of jail we went to Long Beach. We staged ourselves at different locations around the city blocks. It was about four city blocks wide. At that point I thought it would be a great time to reflect and hand out leaflets of what we were there for and what we were fighting to achieve. At a set time, someone yelled the word “GO” and everyone that was around the city blocks, that were staged and ready to mobilize, rolled off the curbs and blocked the busses that were coming around the corner. We kept them there until the police appeared and started arresting people who wouldn’t move. Power, we showed our power.

LA, wow, what an adventure! I knew then that I could say that experience was either going to make me, or break me for the actions to come. I had decided that LA was my first and last ADAPT protest… Well here we sit 23 years later.

I arrived late Saturday evening about 5:30 pm. It was already getting dark and Babs Johnson met me. It was getting cold too. Mike Auberger and Babs got me in the van and took me to the hotel where I shared a room with 3 other guys that were there for the same purpose. One of my roommates name was Shel Trapp. He was a very interesting man with a very baldhead that contained a lot of knowledge and understanding of the goal we were there to achieve.

We woke up the next morning early to freezing Cincinnati. We met in the hotel conference room to go over the agenda for the day and have breakfast. I chose to pass on breakfast because I was so excited to begin our protest. This was my first ADAPT National Action. I had flown from Utah by myself for it.

My favorite part of the action was when ADAPT ran circles around the hotel until the cops put up metal barricades. Every time I went around I hit their barricades and “oinked” like a pig. I wanted them to be aware of me. They might not have understood other things I was saying, but they sure understood “oink”.

I was asked if I was willing to get arrested blocking cars. I was! I was ready and excited to get arrested. I had made up my mind before I left Utah that I would get arrested! After my arrest, the Judge let me go; me and other people he couldn’t understand. I told the Judge to “Fuck Off” a couple of times. That he understood. I know he understood, I said it loud enough and everyone else in the courtroom understood. Looking back, I don’t know why the Judge didn’t charge me with contempt.

People were still in jail when we hung the big wooden cross with a wheelchair on it. I was right next to it and thought it was cool. I was not offended, I thought it was a good idea I knew it would get people’s attention. The chair represented people being crucified in nursing homes and dying there. People passing by didn’t understand initially and were offended. They were offended but it made them think and that was the whole point.

The last day of the action I got my picture taken and was in the newspaper. The picture showed two cops trying to stop me. They tried sticking a nightstick between my wheels, and that worked for a little bit, but then Wade came to my rescue. Being the big man that he was, he told the cops something that made them remove the nightstick. I don’t remember what he said, just that the cops listened to him. Then a lady cop got in my way and I tried to go around her. I finally said to hell with it and went forward. Before I knew it I felt her foot under my wheels. I think I made a mistake; I didn’t mean to hit her, I just wanted to get by her.

I told Wade on the last day that I wanted go on more actions with him and right then I decided someday I would move to Denver. It took me ten years to make up my mind but now I live in Denver and I am a homeowner. I live a happy life; not perfect but it’s getting there.

Ah Detroit. I loved going places where I have a history.

Detroit Tigers baseball was a first for me as a little kid from deep in the piney woods of East Texas in the ‘50s.

And here we were in Motor City to do “battle” with Jack Gilstrap and the American Public Transit Association, which for our ADAPT folks was the “evil empire”!

But, Detroit was also a city with a history of struggle – unions and civil rights! And, it was the city of Coleman Young, Mayor and civil rights icon. And of that most beloved lady of the first bus fight in Montgomery, Alabama, Mrs. Rosa Parks.

I was psyched to know that Mayor Young and Mrs. Parks were in Detroit and that Mrs. Parks had indicated she would march with us for accessible public transit.

Wow, was I wrong!

Not only did Mayor Young treat us like a second-class stepchild with his authoritarian approach to protecting APTA conventioneers, he tried to shut down the transit system where it couldn’t be shown for what it was – a public financed piece of crap! There were more “jack-booted” type of cops for a hundred-plus ADAPT freedom fighters than I could have imagined, armed and ready for the “crips”.

One situation I remember particularly well was in front of APTA’s towering convention building, replete with the typical steel-barrier walls separating the abused from the abusers, with a line of Detroit’s finest – big, powerfully-built with silvered-sun glasses – between us and them. One, in particular, must have been 6’4” and 200-plus pounds of physical perfection. I tried to talk, but he was stone silent; then, about 10 minutes later I finally said, “Well, man I guess you think we’re not human.”, and he almost fell down. I’m sure as a black man he had heard that before. He said, “That ain’t it; they told us to keep quiet and keep our distance.”

As we always found out in our battles with APTA, the cops were usually on our side as all too often they had friends and/or family with disabilities.

My biggest disappointment was when CBS’s Ed Bradley “drank the Kool-Aid” and lined up with the oppressors, and probably had a direct hand, along with Mayor Young, in keeping Mrs. Parks from marching with us. It stunned me to see first hand Bradley speaking at the APTA convention and putting us down; I wondered how he put that shoe on his other foot? And Mayor Young trying the Southern tactics on ADAPT, without the dogs and water cannons, with “his” police force. Made me wonder if the “white” Youngs and Bradleys in the racist community awoke with a smile.

And, I clearly remember preparing to bring Marcos, one of my close friends from El Paso, to Detroit by spending over an hour with his mother talking about “la lucha para los derechos” – the fight for rights in my “best” border Spanish.

And, the ‘not-to-be-forgotten’ incident when the cops wouldn’t allow me to use the restroom and I was forced to go to a hideaway, using Frank and Frazier as ‘lookouts’. However, the rookie female cop didn’t see it that way and provided me with a “day at the gym” with about 15 other cops, with whom I had a good laugh and cheap seats for watching the World Series. Mike later said that the issue was just too embarrassing for the Chief of Police to charge me.

All things considered, it was another devastating realization of just how stacked the system is against the abused and how the powerful have bought their way into the system to keep the “costs” down. As per normal, ADAPT never, never gives up! And not only “We Will Ride”, but “We Do Ride!” despite the best paid efforts of government and APTA!

Lockdown at the DOT

About 200 Americans with Disabilities for Accessible Public Transportation (ADAPT) activists, took direct action for social change in Washington DC, 1987. Our demand was for the Department of Transportation (DOT) to lose their local option rule and make all future bus purchases lift equipped because separate is not equal. We put our voices together on our way to the target, chanting “We Will Ride… We Will Ride…”

Shell Trap says: “Penetrate and Hold.”

Some of us got into the DOT and some were locked out by security guards hired to keep the peace and protect the property of the state. We shut them down, chaining ourselves to the doors with kryptonite locks and lobbied the public with flyers. We kept up the chant, “We Will Ride.”

I will always remember Ken Hurd doing spontaneous theatre to dramatize the issue. From outside, he faced gawking employees blocked inside and humped the sky howling like a CP Kachina spirit dancer singing in harmony with his fate on homes row. “We Are Here! We Are Here! WE ARE ALWAYS HERE!”

Jim Parker asked me if I could spell him on lockdown while he relieved himself. I was just four years blind, with a new dog guide Frazier; I said: “Hell Yes.” It was my time in seat of power, it was a huge rush.

The Secretary of Housing wouldn’t talk. We decided to hold our positions as long as we could. Our people inside were denied access to restrooms and runners were not allowed to deliver hamburgers. While outside we feasted on McDonalds, relieving ourselves wherever we could and settling down for a long cold night. Wade Blank told me that it is very important to keep separate our intentions and our expectations.

It got quiet and colder. I don’t think any of us were prepared for the record breaking thirteen-degree spring night in DC. People from the Homeless Coalition, Justin and Yoshiko Dart responded to Wade’s pay phone calls for help with hot soup, coffee and blankets. Runners heaped the blankets over Doris Ray, Jim and I huddled at one of the entrances. Some hardcore members sat up all night. An older woman named Edith slept under a cardboard box in the flowerbed. She was a double amputee and needed to keep off her peach size bed sores.

Frazier had a box and a rug too. It was cold… cold…

When morning came we had to move. Wade said: “We need to raise people with disabilities’ expectations.” I remember rousing from semi-consciousness, disoriented and wondering if this is how paralysis feels. I was forcing my numb, frozen joints to move; unable to feel the ground beneath me on my way to block buses in the street. Since that lockdown at the DOT, I feel only respect for the endurance and determination that our brothers and sisters with disabilities demonstrate every day.

No Pity!

Gracias ADAPT

Ometeotl

Phoenix is the home to world-class hotels and resorts, fine dining, exhilarating adventure, breath-taking golf courses, trendy shopping, modern night-life and enriching culture. It’s also the home to a transit system that only has 36 accessible buses out of a fleet of over 300 and no plans to become 100% accessible.

Day 1
We organized 2 actions. First, we welcomed APTA members and their spouses to Phoenix by forming a gauntlet at Sky Harbor Airport. That night, it was off to Rustlers Rooste. Rustler’s Rooste is located 15 minutes from downtown. The legend goes that the original site, atop a butte in the foothills of South Mountain, was a hideout for cattle rustlers. Today, it is Arizona’s Legendary Cowboy Steakhouse, also serves rattle snake. It provides an unparalleled view of the city lights. That night, APTA members and their spouses couldn’t hide and they had a view of us. We blocked the roads and main entrances. All the chartered buses had to be re-routed and APTA guests had to walk. Tom Olin, his first full action, took plenty of pictures, women with high hill shoes and businessmen in suits walking up and down a dirt mountain path.

Days 2-5
The first action was at the Hyatt, headquarters to the Convention. In those days we’d roll back and forth, not enough of us to take all the entrances and exits. Several of us also started blocking buses at the major transit exchange. When the police would pull one of us off, another one would take our place. Fifteen activists and I got arrested and transported to a general prison pod. It’d been freshly painted. Once they found out some of us needed bowel programs, we were shipped to the prison infirmary and confined to individual cells.

Rigid schedule, nothing to do or nobody to talk to, I looked forward to the daily visit by the library cart. Mike Auberger killed time in his cell by counting the holes in the ceiling tiles. In the beginning I was a little freaked out by the isolation, but everyday Wade, our friendly clergy (just another hat that he wore), would visit and update us. His hardest task was explaining to my wife why I wasn’t going to get home when expected.

While we were in, folks on the outside repeatedly hit the Hyatt and disrupted a spouses lunch function in the Biltmore Estates area, 76 people were arrested.

Friday
Most folks had already gone home. Wade appears with the good news: we’re being released. The story of our efforts had gone national. The City of Phoenix was brought to its knees.

Kudos
This was the first action were the transit officials and media called us PROFESSIONAL protestors. All in all it was a great action; it exploited the rationale of local option. APTA members and their spouses experienced barriers and the public became more aware. Richard (Bob) Michael’s, ABIL (local ILC), Executive Director, wrote that there had been more public discussion in 5 days than there had been in 5 years. In addition the Mayor made a public statement supporting lifts on all new buses.

I remember in 1984, when ADAPT was made up of only 35 people. In San Francisco, we gained more members. When I arrived in San Francisco, it was hot, and hilly. We did not think we could make it up and down the big hills to get to buses and trolleys to block them. We planned on blocking them as a form of protest to push for ramps on all public transportation all around the country for all of our brothers and sisters with disabilities to be able to ride with able-bodied people. Blocking buses is what ADAPT was good at. At that time if someone had a disability they were considered second-class citizens to the bus industry.

At the time of the San Francisco protest against the American Public Transportation Association (APTA) in 1987, ADAPT consisted of approximately 500 members. APTA thought that they could hold us back. APTA was friends with the Mayor of San Francisco, who tried to make it difficult for ADAPT to get to APTA to present our agenda. The Reverend Wade Blank was an active participant in over three decades of political organizing. He thought like the Reverend Martin Luther King when it came to civil disobedience. He taught others how to create and record their own destiny.

A brilliant strategist, Wade Blank helped shape the tide of the disability rights movement. The disability rights movement was like the black movement in the 60’s. If an individual who used a wheelchair did not have access to buses all around the cities or the country, ADAPT would follow APTA all around the country or if they met out of the country we were there to get all transportation accessible for all people in this free country.

On the first day we went to the San Francisco City Hall, 500 people stretching the six blocks through the hills of San Francisco. On arriving at City Hall, we surrounded the building, APTA members would not get in without an ADAPT welcome, and it was a welcome they would long remember. Chanting, “Access is a Civil Right” we linked arms and APTA was forced to climb over our wheelchairs.

I remember APTA members tried to exit through the back entrance but we pushed big trashcans to block the exit.

On the second day, we went on the street to do what ADAPT is best known for, stopping buses. I remember we had to watch the bus drivers in San Francisco, because if the driver saw a wheelchair they thought we would stop right in front of the bus. Protesters almost got hit in San Francisco to get the rights to ride with our brothers and sisters.

People questioned why we did not want special transportation. We are not special, we are disabled and we do not need door-to-door service. The protesters felt empowered to push for what they previously thought they could not do. ADAPT showed the disability community they had the right to ride all public transportation in all communities.

ADAPT wanted access to all types of transportation. APTA was the governing body for bus transportation, which was where our initial focus lay. Instead of providing lifts for the buses, APTA provided air conditioning. ADAPT had been working on accessible public transportation for four long years. We wanted to meet with Jack Gilstrap, the President of APTA. He thought ADAPT was a military organization and that if he met with us, we would kill him. When we did meet with him, we blocked him in from all sides. He could not go anywhere, until we let him out.

ADAPT did not lose our focus for our right to ride the buses with all people. Not all people agreed with our tactic but now we have the right to use public transportation. If we had given up, the disability population would have had nothing to show, but by persevering, we gained.

The collectible item of ADAPT apparel for this action was a red and white headband that said: ADAPT met APTA in St. Louis. It was spring 1988, one of our last actions targeting the gatherings of the American Public Transit Association.

This action sticks in my memory because of the comic overreaction of the police. A television news report announcing our coming said police were conducting bomb sweeps in the rooms of APTA’s hotel. We later learned that the police did this at APTA’s behest.

Every time an ADAPT vehicle left the hotel, even to go to the drug store, it was followed by police. As we lined up to begin our marches, police helicopters hovered above.

I remember I was one of those arrested for refusing to disperse from a corridor near where APTA types were meeting. The blind man next to me was told by police that if he was arrested his dog would be sent to the pound and he probably wouldn’t get it back. So, very reluctantly, he dispersed.

They transported all us arrestees to a police lockup and during the processing they did something I’ve never seen police do before or since. They took blood samples. When one guy refused to submit to that he was held down and blood was drawn forcibly. I was among the many others who refused after that. They told us to line up so they could force us all one-by-one later. But so many refused that the police gave up on the drawing blood idea. Our lawyers later filed a lawsuit.

They kept us overnight. We slept in a roomful of cots. They gave us Ziploc bags full of toiletries. The toothpaste tube was white with no label. The watery toothpaste dripped through the bristles of the brush. As I brushed my teeth I spit out bristles. The brush handle was practically bald when I finished. They fed us the standard issue bologna sandwiches — a single slice of bologna smashed between to slices of cottony white bread.

On Tuesday we hit the Greyhound station. Somehow we slipped through the police dragnet and blocked off the St. Louis bus station. After a standoff, an irate, liquored up, stranded passenger stormed out of the terminal. “I’m sick of this shit!’ he barked and he began yanking on wheelchairs. E.T., an African American guy from Denver, resisted by holding tight to his wheels. So the furious drunken guy wrapped his hands around E.T.’s throat and shook him. The police pounced, ripped the guy away and arrested him.

The next day, as we prepared to leave town, there was a newspaper picture of E.T. parked in front of a Greyhound bus and being strangled. And the police commander dropped by our hotel to shake our hands and wish us well. He congratulated and thanked us for conducting a well-organized, nonviolent protest.

A 16 Year-Olds Most Exciting Experience In Montreal

My name is Tisha Cunningham; most know me as Tisha Auberger, or Babs and Mike’s oldest daughter. I have been protesting for disability rights since I was 9. (Yea, I’m the first ADAPT kid). And I would like to share my most exciting experience in ADAPT. So here goes.

You know, I was only 16 years old, so I don’t remember everything; I am only telling what will NEVER leave my memory.

It was early in the morning and Uncle Wade and Molly were calling us to get in the van, we were going to Montreal, Canada. We got to the airport, got on the plane, and thank god I got to sit with my Uncle Mel, he was the coolest. A few hours later we land and as usual there was Mom ready to pick us up.

Now, the driving, let me tell ya, I would never drive there, I will have to say at many points, my Mom was a hero with driving. Strangely I was pretty happy that I was not old enough to drive yet, or at least I thought I wasn’t. We were leaving one of our hits, folks were being arrested and Mom tells me to go with Molly… I get everyone loaded in Uncle Wade’s van (as usual he is off to jail with my Dad). Molly has never driven a van, and I am asked to drive. NO!! There is no way I am driving, not in this country. So I helped guide Molly in driving a van. She did a good job, but I am glad it was her and not me.

Now the most memorable hit, to me, was at night, at the hotel were APTA was staying, and that night they were having a party or something going on. I will never ever forget that night.

I was so tired of doing homework, and my Dad comes in. Mom and him tell me that we are going to sneak to our location in just a few hours, I need to get ready, and make sure I grab my coat. They then tell me that it is going to be really cool; we are waiting for dark, taking the alleyways and sneaking up on APTA at their hotel. At some point on the way, we are going to split up. Mom is going in through a side door that Uncle Wade got to stay unlocked, and Dad and I are going in through the front doors. We are going to shut this hotel down from inside and out. At that point, I am soo hyped.

The time comes. We are so quiet, I never thought ADAPT could be this quiet. 1 block, 2 blocks, we are almost there. Dad turns and looks at me “Tisha, when we get there, I want you to stay behind me, and keep up”. My heart is beating so hard, I think it is going to pop out. I see the hotel. A couple of folks have gotten in. The bellmen with luggage carts are now blocking the doors. They think that is going to stop us. Dad screams “Tisha grab my chair… Come on… Push, Push”.

I’m pushing my Dad’s chair as hard as I can…. My heart is racing so hard, I can’t see anything or hear anything… Get my Dad in!! That is all I can think about now…. BOOOOM… I DID IT, I DID IT, we are in. “Did you see that Dad, they looked like bowling pins”. Wow, I got him in. Not long after, the police start to arrest. Hey there goes Uncle Bob. Bye Aunt Stephanie. See ya Dad, love ya. Uncle Frank gives me Frasier. Wait, not Mom.

“Take Frasier, stay with the group, go straight to our room and don’t leave, everything will be ok honey, I love you.”

“I love you too Mom”. Ok, so I thought, “I can do this, I am 16 years old, I don’t need anyone to baby-sit me”.

After about an hour, off we went. As we walked I made sure Frasier did his duties, and went straight to my room. I remember thinking, hey, this is kind of cool, here by myself. A couple of hours of watching TV, talking on the phone with my boyfriend and playing with Frasier

I was ready for bed, so I thought. The phone rings, I thought it was my Mom letting me know she will be back soon. Nope, it was some lady telling me that my Mom and Dad are going to be in jail for a while and there is a chance that Canada’s Social Service is going to take me. I hung up. Now at this point I was most definitely freaking out. And at that point, yes, I was crying to a dog. Let’s put the cherry on top of this Sunday, I hear noise at the door, can this night get any worse?

Hey, it was my Mom, and thank god. I had never been soo happy to see her. At that point everything was all good again. What a beautiful smile on her face, and that hug, yes 16 years old, and Mom’s hug felt sooo good, warm and sooo safe at that moment. I told Mom everything that happened. She felt bad that I had to go through that, but assured me that I was fine and NO ONE was taking me away.

Lot’s of other stuff happened as I am sure you figured, more actions, more arrest, you know a typical ADAPT action, but I just wanted to share with you the most exciting memory of mine. And that is my story of my most exciting experience as a 16-year-old protester in Montreal, Canada.

Sparks Nevada – Next to Reno, Sparks was the site of the Western Regional APTA convention. In those days we mostly traveled by vans and the Texas vans would meet up with the Denver vans and we’d collect a few more as we went along. Sometimes we had as many as 14 or 18 vans in a row. A few folks couldn’t stand it and would go on ahead, but most of it was like a long wagon train. Every stop (gas, bathroom, whatever), Wade would let whoever wanted to, get out of their vans. It took forever! It was like the clown car at the circus. We Texans had the opposite theory and just passed urinals around.

Going to Sparks, we stopped in Salt Lake City. Rosemary Rendon had set up a meeting, but we could never find the location despite hours of searching.

Once in Reno we stayed at a casino at the edge of downtown. A beautiful mountain was our backdrop. Mike, whose foot had been badly injured in the LA County jail several years earlier but had never really healed, had it propped up sticking straight out in front of him but he was ready for bear, as were we all. We were here to confront those who stood directly in opposition to our goal of access to mainline buses, and integration into society.

First we marched from our hotel to the APTA convention casino. The police tried to intimidate us by arresting the folks at the front of the march from the start but it didn’t work.

Ed Roberts had come, he drove in a van behind the march.

We tried to enter or block their hotel but the police were blocking us. They would pull us away, but we would simply wait till they left and then return to the building. Jerry Eubanks and Tim Baker, Julie Farrar, Barb Toomer, ET, Lillibeth Navarro, Diane Coleman, Tom Olin and many more were there. It was like an act of sacrificing ourselves for the freedom and liberty of those who would come behind. We would just try again and again.

Arthur Campbell, as usual, wound up on the ground among the legs of the police. Everyone was chanting at full volume. Eventually some police bigwig showed up with a bullhorn and an interpreter in tow (that was first for us, interpreting the arrest announcements). The usual announcements were made: “if you do not disburse… you will be arrested…”

We were taken away in – accessible school buses. We always found it ironic, they could make these school buses accessible, but not mainline buses? Get real!

We were arraigned that night. The police tried all kinds of psychological tactics to break our spirits, even accusing us of faking our disabilities. We were broken into groups to go into court. I was in the second group; waiting just outside the courtroom while the first group was arraigned.

Suddenly the courtroom erupted in what sounded literally like a zoo brawl. With baboon whoops, clattering, clacking monkey sounds, howling, braying water buffalos, and indescribable howls. Everyone in our group looked at one another mystified.

It turned out later that the Judge had given ET (an African American with a very street demeanor) a much harsher sentence than the few others who had gone before him. In an effort to make sure he would not be alone, a desperate strategy of disrespect was adopted and folks like Mike Auberger and Bob Kafka were using terms like “your Honor, and I use the term loosely…” It worked as we all wound up sentenced to between 27 to 29 days in jail!

We responded with a hunger strike but we didn’t know what we were doing.

Divided up, we were put in with the general population in cell pods, where the cells on two floors, ringed a 2 story central area where everyone ate, hung out, and watched TV or whatever. We didn’t have money and smokers were jonesing for cigarettes.

They talked about taking away our wheelchairs, but luckily never did. Anita was not given her seizure meds until she had several seizures. We tried to advocate for her with limited success. We were forced to take showers and forced to be assisted by the trustees, which wound up having something of an assault quality to it. We hung in there by sticking together; it was quite beautiful though trying.

We heard Diane Coleman (not in our group) had gotten sick from not eating and was sent to the hospital. Barb Toomer urged folks (very sensibly) to drink fruit juice and plenty of water. Soon others began to feel sick too. Anita’s seizures weren’t helped by the fast either. We had a meeting with our lawyer and I suddenly threw up all over him – most embarrassing. They took me back to my cell and I threw up all over it as well – to the disgust of the trustees who then had to clean that up.

The powers that be were beginning to freak with our illness. I was ejected from the jail “to go to the hospital” but really I was just dumped outside the jail. Luckily Babs had learned about this and came to meet me.

Tim Baker, a quad with quite significant CP, had been taken directly to the hospital where they were trying to cure his spasticity with a device that closely resembled a floor wax buffer. He found it humorous, fortunately, and we were able to spring him too since their cure was not working.

By the end of perhaps the 2nd day the jail was fed up to the gills with us and sprang everyone. We learned there that there are 3 separate bureaucracies involved: the cops, the courts and the jailers – and the 3 don’t get along all that well.

There was one more day of the conference and we didn’t want to let that day go to waste, so we headed back to the APTA convention. The police had erected cement barricades around the Casino (John Asquaga’s the Nugget) so there was not enough room for wheelchairs to fit through. We realized if we got out of our chairs and crawled we could get in. It was a big deal controversy in our group because of course everyone could not crawl. But since it seemed the only way, we did it. It freaked the police out to no end.

ADAPT COMES TO PHILLY

Philly meets ADAPT on May 1, of 1989 and I was there! ADAPT came to Philadelphia to support attorney Tim Cook in the very important case regarding our right to ride public transportation ADAPT vs Burnley. This case was being reheard by the US Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit. ADAPT wanted to remind everyone involved with this case that it was a civil rights case for disabled people to truly be free they had to be able to get from a to b.

Not everyone from ADAPT could make that Action since there was very little notice, but even with the short notice there was quite a good turn out. There was representation from California, Colorado, Washington, DC, Georgia, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New York and Pennsylvania. Disabled In Action gave a lot of support to this Action as did Cord who brought a lot of people from Massachusetts.

Friday the ADAPT protesters gathered at the Federal Court building, after only four protesters got inside the building the security officers blocked all the entrances. Thus, the negotiations began. ADAPT was told that Attorney General Thornburg was on a plane and could not be reached. Finally after sometime passed and they knew we meant business they came back and told us that they found Mr Thornburg and that he would be willing to speak directly to us. In that meeting people felt that he was visually moved with how important this was to the disabled community. Carol Marfisi was among the ADAPT people who participated in that meeting.

Saturday other Philly members joined ADAPT in attempting to board buses that did not have a lift. ADAPT members crawled on buses, others chanted, held signs and blocked buses after about one hour the police came by and asked us what would it take to get us off the street. By this time we had blocked three lanes of traffic. We agreed to leave if that could get us some media and they went off and tried to get the news to come out and see what we were doing.

Sunday the sun shined as we got ready for our March and Vigil. Many of us dressed in revolutionary garb, wigs, the three-corner hat, and long dresses. Lori Eastwood, Babs Johnson and Diane Coleman had made a flag just like old glory but the stars formed the international access sign.

We marched from Independence Hall as its bells rang at 4:00 pm on the eve of our historic case. We marched through cobbled streets chanting: “Access is a civil right,” and “We will ride.” We march for justice; we knew we could not lose. We formed a circle around the Liberty Bell. We listened to the history and when the building closed we shared are own stories about the struggle for transportation and Mark Johnson read the Declaration of Independent for Disabled People. We started to chant again and we planned to do our vigil at the liberty bell; but we where forcefully removed by the police.

This did not stop ADAPT. We instead slept in front of the Federal Building, and in the wee hours of early morn, we could be found grilling some hotdogs and watching ourselves on TV. It got very chilly but as we listened to the story we realized that we wanted to be on every ADAPT Action from now on. ADAPT folks where cool and nothing would stop them from getting the word out about are rights. I knew “we would ride” with ADAPT on the case. All night long the media folks kept coming and our stories were all over the news.

That night Cassie, John and I slept out with ADAPT. We vowed to support ADAPT in all their future actions.

Tim Cook did a great Job in court and many more advocates from Philly joined to hear the case in the morning. This was an important case. The cap on spending was removed so it was possible to make public transportation accessible, an important step in getting access in public transportation.

Back then our dream was to get on the bus and now we do ride! Tim Cook was ADAPT first Lawyer, we all miss Tim. He worked here in Philadelphia and Steve Gold was a mentor. Often they worked on transportation cases together. We as disabled people look back at Tim Cook’s life and realize that much of his early adult life was spend working on our right to ride public transportation and he also worked on access cases. He had a National law practice committed to disability cases in Washington DC.