Statue of President F D R using a wheelchair. I saw Judy off to the airport. We both remember a tearful goodbye as I chased her taxi down on my bike. That was a goodbye we both remember. It was a tough year for her professionally, and she really did not like the small apartment she had in Littleton Colorado. As good as it was to see Judy, she had to go back.

For me it was the day I turned west.

I finished up what I needed to with the Internet connection at the hotel and I headed off in the afternoon. This was a time before Wifi, I had to have an ethernet connection or a phone line to connect and update the web. On the way out of town, I stopped at the FDR memorial on the far side of the tidal basin. I had been there before, but I did not have any photos of FDR using a wheelchair. There was a large advocacy push to have something to represent him using a wheelchair even though he hid that fact from the American people.

So the first photos are from WDC at the memorial. I took some photos only of FDR in a wheelchair, no cherry trees or Jefferson Memorial also on the basin. It was before the MLK memorial was out there also.

Late in the day I started out on the C&O Towpath. This is the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal that has become a national park. I was unprepared for just how beautiful the C&O Towpath was. It fell out of use when it had to compete with the railroads, but in the past seventy years or so, the Park Service has really made it into a fantastic amenity. It was built over a long period of time and before the railroads, it represented the peak of technical innovation in transportation. Basically the towpath was a obstruction-less road to pull heavy barges on level water canals. The canal would use a lock to help raise the cargo up and downstream, alongside the Potomac River.

I started on this path late in the afternoon and quickly realized that I wanted to stop for everything. I made it to Lock 23 and poached a campsite close to the river. I was in the National Park, beside the Potomac River; but I was not far from the urban sprawl of WDC.

The statue of FDR in a wheelchair from the right side. Statue of President F D R using a wheelchair from the right side with hazy background. Bust of the statue of FDR

Green tree limbs hang over still water from a wooden bridge.

The C&O Canal (photo 1)

Light reflects tree limbs in the smooth water along the side of a clear path in thick woods.

The C&O Towpath (photo 1)

Water trickles over one end of a narrow channel with thick bricks on either side.

Lock on the C&O Canal (photo 2)

Lock in the thick green woods with still water.

A locke on the C&O Canal (photo 3)

Water trickles over a weir with a wooden bridge above in thick woods.

A lock and pedestrian bridge on the C&O Canal (photo)

A river snakes through rocky cliffs and thick woods.

The Potomac River (photo 1)

The doors of a lock on a placid pond with a path on the left through the woods.

The C&O Towpath at a lock (photo)

A river bursts through a constriction between green banks.

The Potomac River (photo 2)

A horseshoe falls viewed from above.

Falls on the Potomac (photo)

A blurry photo of a Great Blue Heron flying down the C and O Towpath.

Great Blue Heron (photo)

A blurry photo of a Great Blue Heron flying down the C&O Towpath. The combination of movement and low light kept me from taking a good photo. I have used Lightroom to make this more recognizable.

May 18, 2002

My first day on the C&O Towpath was short but very eventful. There are many locks and displays close to Washington DC. Understanding how the waterway works is an important first lesson, it helps to know what you are looking at. It is also interesting to imagine how the area looked a hundred and fifty years ago when it was at its peak. My understanding of the development was that the towpath was under construction right up until the time locomotives took most of the business. The barges on the towpath remained in operation, but it was in decline until it became totally abandoned around 1930. A bridge over water with five arches.

Still, I imagine that the area around the towpath looked very different. I can create in my mind something like an industrial highway with lots of slag, residue and garbage piling up along the route. I can see development, smoke and activity. But that is just my imagination because it is really a very pleasant wooded retreat. I believe that all of the past growth along the towpath has not only disappeared into the woods, it has been lost in time. Occasionally along the route you will see a large foundation, or the very old stone hearth of a furnace; but most of the road is a very serene trip.

My trip was serene. I was surprised by the environment. The Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive were both great non-commercial roads, but the C&O was like that, but did not even have cars. I found that once I stopped, I had a hard time getting started again. There were plenty of places to stop and often I had them to myself.

On the other hand, it was a little harder going on the pea-gravel surface of the towpath. The small gravel with dirt would often swallow the tire and it was harder to petel. It was just more difficult anyway because it was not a flat firm surface like I was used to on the road. I had narrow, treadless tires that were great on pavement, but not good for gravel. And I just did not want to be riding hard and fast when I was approaching and passing people walking and running on the path.

I soon fell into the routine of a very casual pace. It was hard to really determine how far you were riding. There were no hills, the idea of the towpath was to be level like the water. There were natural rises at the various locks, but this was nothing like the Rocky Mountains. While I was going slow and pedaling was hard, the riding was easy and leisurely.

A brown road passes through green grass beside a placid waterway with rock cliff opposite the road.

The peaceful canal and towpath (photo)

A two story disheveled home with woods growing up close behind.

Two Story Disheveled Home (photo)

A while boarded up home with rusty tin roof. A bicycle leans on a small bridge in front of the home.

Caretakers home and my bike (photo)

A single lane disappears in the vivid green woods.

A single lane disappears in the vivid green woods (photo)

A double track road disappears into a thick green wood with a water puddle in the foreground reflecting the trees.

A double track road disappears into a thick green wood (photo)

Geese swim in the placid green water of the Canal

Geese in the Canal (photo 1)

Geese swim in the placid green water of the Canal

Geese in the Canal (photo 2)

A lone goose with reflection swims in the placid greenish water of the canal

A Goose in the Canal (photo 1)

A lone goose with reflection swims in the placid greenish water of the canal

A Goose in the Canal (photo 2)

A roughly painted field-stone home with two chimneys and boarded windows.

Caretaker’s home (photo)

A canal lock with caretaker home in the background and a bicycle on a bridge over the lock

My Bike over the lock (photo)

An Aqueduct over a stream.

Aquaduct over a stream (photo)

A rail road tunnel with a track into the tunnel and a track running to the side

Railway tunnel along the towpath (photo)

Wide river with geese n the foreground and green hills in the background.

The Potomac (photo)

May 19, 2002

I visited two historic sites today. I rode my bike around Harpers Ferry and Antietam National Battlefield about as much as I rode on the C&O Towpath. Overall I made 20 miles, but I spent much of my time off my bike and visiting riding around the historic sites. Much of the history of the C&O happens before the Civil War, but today’s ride focused on the Civil War. A small building with a steeple and three arched doors.

Just like the Manasses battlefield, I took only one photo and it was a photo of a bridge. I believe I just thought the battlefields were documented well enough, I didn’t seem to find any inspiration on the Civil War battlefields, except for those two bridges. I did get more photos of Harpers Ferry, but strangely I didn’t get any photos of the bridges. The strange thing is the bridges and ruins of old bridges around Harpers Ferry are really fantastic. Sorry, I didn’t take a photo of that, I guess you will have to go there yourself.

The most iconic feature is this guard and engine house that has become known as John Brown’s Fort. during his 1859 raid on Harper's Ferry. It is the only surviving building of the Armory; the others were destroyed during the Civil War. But it has been moved four times. The Park Service is sometimes not all that good at history. All they say about it now is that it is “near” its original location.

Harpers Ferry is a beautiful little town. When I crossed the bridge west of the C&O into Harpers Ferry, I couldn’t find any place that was open. It was a Sunday and I walked the streets all by myself before anyone was up. Finally, I did find a place to get coffee. I also looked for a thing called a pay phone. I wanted to call my parents. In 2002 they were becoming hard to find, but they still existed.

I don’t recall any great insights visiting the Antietam battlefield on a bicycle. I wish I had taken more photos, but I am happy with the one that I did take. Now it is called Burnside Bridge. I know there were many post-battle photos but I was not really into legacy photography at the time. It is hard to imagine what the battlefield looked like 140 years ago. And especially when the terrain is all you have to look at.

A brown pea-gravel path beside a field rock edge of the canal filled with green grass.

The towpath east of Harpers Ferry (photo)

Much of the C&O canal does not have water in it. This bend in the trail shows what much of the towpath is like. Note the sand-colored pea-gravel of the towpath here. Typically, this was the hardest stuff to ride through and I did walk my bike for several miles. Often I could find a compacted rut made by service vehicles that was smoother to ride.

Hill town with a building with prominent steeple.

Harpers Ferry West Virginia (photo)

This is a view of Harpers Ferry from the Potomac bridge. It is a very attractive little town, I had a chance to roam the streets alone when I arrived on a sleepy Sunday morning.

Plants overgrow the stone lock

A lock on the C&O canal (photo)

Two arched brick furnaces in a rock wall.

Ruins of industrial furnace (photo)

I don’t recall if these are furnaces or some part of the canal. Because there is no smoky charred rock, I tend to think they are water tunnels. There were many ruins of old industry just off the towpath. They grew up because they needed the water to move the heavy ingredients in and the heavy products out.

Two people on horses riding past a canal lock

Horses on the towpath (photo)

The towpath gives you the image of a very rural setting, but really there is evidence of urban sprawl all around. Even though it is a very pleasant setting, you can hear traffic and trains most of the time. The towpath is a thin strip that the Park Service has recovered. These two people also used the towpath to get away from the buzz of civilization.

An aqueduct over still water.

Aqueduct bridge (photo)

A fieldstone bridge crosses over a creek with trees on both sides

Burnside Bridge over Antietam Creek (photo)

Like at Manassas, I thought about spending the night on the National Battlefield. I had that thought to try to have some experience of what it was like 140 years ago. But really my bicycle camping experience is nothing like what it must have been like on the Antietam battlefield. I camped at a site on the C&O Towpath.

Before lunch I really wanted to get back on the towpath. Again, I didn’t take any photos of the battlefield. It is strange that I can take so many photos without a subject, but I didn’t take any photos of the landscape of Antietam. I guess I needed some historical subject or something iconic that would show that I was there. The Burnside Bridge is the only photo I needed.

May 20, 2002

I had another beautiful sunny day on the trail. Much of the path was gravel and still not good for my overburdened rims; but better than the pea-gravel had been. I was making a very casual pace and I was not in a hurry. The runners and cyclists I shared the path with did more to slow me down than anything else. Of course the sights along the towpath were also pleasantly distracting.

Today there were several distractions. Williamsport had a very unique draw bridge on the riverfront. I had just spent some time in the small town of Sharpsburg and I did not stop to visit Williamsport. The riverfront however had quite a few C&O ruins around and an aqueduct that still held water. It was really strange to see how the canal would bridge the little streams that it had to cross.

Near the end of the day, I ran across Fort Frederick just off the towpath. I was a fort used to protect settlers during the French and Indian War. It was really a beautiful restoration of the stone walls and the wooden barracks. There was also a campground close by, but I wanted to continue on and did not spend much time at the fort. I took a photo from outside, but it really doesn’t show the very well designed walls and only the very tops of the barracks.

I looked forward to building a fire at the campsite that night. It was a type of camping that I had not done on my trip. I was most often in my tent after dark. The fire gave me a reason to sit outside of the tent and enjoy the evening. It was so unique that I took a photo of myself at the fire ring.

A drawbridge structure over a canal with a path beside.

Bridge along the towpath (photo)

A stone aqueduct over a stream with trees in the background.

Aqueduct on the towpath (photo)

I gave this photo a little "panorama style" by cropping it to show only a little sky and a small foreground. Most of my photos were in a 3:2 aspect, much like a computer screen. When I would crop a photo below the video standard 16:9 I consider that a "panorama style." The subject in this photo spans from one side to the other and I cropped it to show the aqueduct extending off-frame left and right.

A river flows over a weir with a 2 story building on the far shore.

Canal Dam Number 5 (photo 1)

The Dam Number 5 across the Potomac is for flood control and to regulate the water flow on the C&O Towpath. The canal is right alongside the river at this point. There are a few places where the C&O Canal will shortcut some of the horseshoe bends in the river. The “Four Locks” area just south of Dam Number 5 is one of those shortcuts through the woods.

A river flows over a weir with a 2 story building on the far shore.

Canal Dam Number 5 (photo 2)

The caretakers home in the background of a ruin of a canal lock

Lock 46 (photo)

A white fieldstone home that is boarded up.

Lock house 46 (photo)

The ruins of a lock made of stone.

Ruins of Lock 46 (photo)

The ruins of a 2 story home that is overgrown with trees

Ruins along the C&O Canal (photo)

The ruins of a water wheel and stone structure that is overgrown

An Old Mill Wheel along the C&O Canal (photo)

A stone wall surrounds two large buildings with blue cloudy skies in the background.

Fort Frederick (photo)

Fort Frederick is a unique four-point stone fort that served as Maryland’s frontier defense during the French and Indian War. Built in 1756, the fort's stone wall and two barracks have been restored to their 1758 appearance.

The ruins of an aqueduct over a creek.

Licking Creek Aqueduct (photo)

A wooden bridge with a bike loaded with camping equipment

Bike on a parallel path to the C&O Canal (photo)

Man warming his hands over a campfire

Building a fire (photo)

May 21, 2002

A purple flower stands out of darker background.

Twenty years ago I did not ride far on my bike and I spent a lot of my day enjoying the remote section of the C&O Towpath. I also enjoyed my skill at camping at the many campsites along the trail. I did enjoy having this time and place to myself.

A purple flower

Purple flower (photo)

A look down a two-track road in the woods.

Remote Towpath (photo 1)

A look down a two-track road in a thick green wood.

Remote Towpath (photo 2)

Shadowy man at a campfire A bike gear and fire in the woods

A campfire at night

I had the campground to myself and I built another campfire for heat and to make dinner. I really did like to be alone. I also liked camping with others and I was very social on the C&O Trail.

On this remote section of the Canal I soaked-up being by myself and enjoying the surroundings. I spread all my stuff out on the picnic table and used it for a desk, I was near the river, but I could often hear traffic, trains and airplanes. It did feel remote, but there were reminders of civilization.

May 22, 2002

Eight furnace arched openings in a brick wall

The Round Top Cement Mill was right beside the towpath to make it easy to move materials in and out. There must have been a huge structure around these furnaces to lift and roll the products around and load and unload them from the canal barges.

Red brick building with a chimney and several furnaces on the right.

Round Top Cement Mill (photo)

An aqueduct over a still creek.

Canal Aqueduct (photo)

A shadowy fish A fish in clear water

I don’t know why I took a photo of this fish, I was either amazed that I could see the fish so clearly or I wanted to see if I could get a photo of it. All along the C&O Towpath were small pools of water; some were left over from the canal and others developed as small ponds beside the Potomac.

It really was only a minority of the path that had water similar to when the towpath was active. The Park Service did create some small areas where there was water passing through the locks and some of the aqueducts to show how the C&O Canal worked. Most of the way, the canal itself is overgrown and has filled up with trees and plants.

The photo before this one is of an aqueduct that bridges a stream with the canal. It is a great thing to see and really must have been some very good engineering and great craftsmanship to create. I can also imagine that the canal required a lot of maintenance as well.

The ruins of a canal lock

The ruins of a lock (photo)

The edge of a pool of water reflecting the trees.

Reflection along the towpath (photo)

A tent on green grass with water and trees.

Campsite on the Potomac (photo)

May 23, 2002

I was taking it easy and relaxing while on the C&O Towpath. I would make dinner and breakfast at the campsite and did not get back on the trail until around 9:AM. At the time, in my food bag, I had a small frying pan. I enjoyed making eggs for breakfast, but I had to buy them in either a half-dozen carten and eat them all, or I would purchase 2 or 3 eggs from a restaurant I would pass. I had a tupperware container I would keep the eggs in and if they broke, they would be ready for scrambling in the morning.

I had to see to my wheels and I was trying to keep them true because of the gravel path that I had been on for the past four days. The campsites along the towpath would have a picnic table, which was often a lot of help in organizing my things. I would use the picnic table as a desk and kitchen, as well as a prop to hold my bike so I could work on the wheels.

At this point in the ride, I had passed about sixty of the C&O Canal locks and I just did not take any more photos of them. The Paw-Paw Tunnel was one of the largest engineering achievements of the canal and it was also a landmark that people on the trail used. I was looking forward to the tunnel and also was a little apprehensive because I knew that there was only a one-horse path beside the canal through the tunnel.

I also have an out of focus photo of two people that I do not know.

A bike on a wooden boardwalk leading into a tunnel

A woman and a man sit at a bar.

A turtle with head and legs barely out of his shell.

In the Terrapin State (photo)

Stagnant water along an elevated path.

The Canal moves away from the Potomac (photo)

A boardwalk along the side of a rocky ditch

The boardwalk to the Paw-Paw Tunnel (photo)

The brick entrance to a tunnel.

The Paw-Paw Tunnel (photo)

Inside a tunnel, brick interior with boardwalk on right.

Inside the tunnel (photo)

The exit of a tunnel with still water and a path on the right

The Paw-Paw Tunnel entrance (photo)

An aqueduct with a single arch over a stream.

Aqueduct (photo)

Two cyclists, one parent and child, on a two-track gravel path

Cyclists on the towpath (photo)

A steel bridge from a stone base surrounded by woods.

Bridge over the Canal (photo)

A wide river flowing quickly with green trees on either side

North fork of the Potomac (photo)

A bridge across water that is at surface level

Bridge just off the Towpath (photo)

May 24, 2002

This was my last day on the C&O Towpath and mostly a day off. I rode into Cumberland Maryland early and I had found a bike shop by noon. I asked them to true my wheels and to help me learn to keep my wheels true.

I only took one 640x480 photo on this day of my bike being worked on. I stayed at the Slumberland Inn as a change to my five days camping. I planned my route to make it out to Western Pennsylvania to visit some friends.

Cumberland had many rustic parts of the original C&O Canal as you enter the town, but it ends in the center. The Greater Allegheny Passage begins right at that point. The GAP.

Many people ride them together, but I did not know anything about it at the time. The maps I had were for automobiles and the GAP was just not shown. I wish I knew more about the GAP.

I did take other “Rails-toTrails” paths on my route to Washington PA. There was a big push to use old railroad beds for recreation and for bike paths. My father is a big fan of the Katy Trail in Missouri. He would often run on various parts of it. I believe it spans the entire state.

May 25, 2002

A very run-down home that is boarded-up and falling apart.

After seeing the many ruins along the C&O Towpath, I was amazed by this house outside Cumberland. Notice that although there is no maintenance of the home, the grass outside is mowed.

A street sign that says ELVIS PRESLEY BLVD with cars and a building in the background.

I took a 640x480 photo of the Elvis Presley Boulevard sign on the left because of my connection to Memphis. It is strange that in rural Maryland I find this sign. I have come to learn in the twenty years since I was surprised to find this sign that Marylanders consider themselves to be southerners and “country boys.” The Baltimore Orioles Fans sing the John Denver song “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.”

I really saw very little of Maryland. I spent most of my time in Washington DC and on the C&O Towpath. What I saw was beautiful.

I also took a 640x480 photo of crossing over the state line into Pennsylvania, on the right. Another photo of me wearing my helmet. I don’t recall what I put the camera on, but it was not on the ground.

Man with bike, his arms apart under the sign that says: WELCOME TO PENNSYLVANIA FOR SAFETY REPECT OUR SPEED LIMITS. SPEED LIMIT 55 UNLESS OTHERWISE POSTED.

A plowed field, silo and red barn in the foreground with a community in the distance and low hills.

Pennsylvania Countryside (photo)

A white board home with a weathered smaller home with a highway in the foreground and mountains and dark skies in the background.

Pennsylvania Farmhouse (photo)

A rabbit on the side of a gravel path.

Rabbit on the GAP (photo)

I did not have a map of the Greater Allegheny Passage, but because I was headed toward Pittsburg I caught up with this rail-to-trail. I was back on a gravel path but I could tell I made much better time on the highway surface. The GAP was very different than the C&O Towpath, it was not isolated from farms, towns and roads. I did find a good place to poach and I saw this rabbit on the side of the path.

May 26, 2002

The Greater Allegheny Passage was really beautiful. But the GAP was not well marked or have the same number of camping and historical items as the C&O Towpath. I made good time on the GAP and met some unique people and vehicles. Below is another bikepacker with a similar set-up to mine. He has drop handlebars and carries his water on his back.

You may be able to make out my rig in the lower right of the photo. That is a stuff sack I put over the front pannier. It probably has my rain gear and shoes in it. I almost exclusively wore t-shirts on my trip. They did not look like bike wear, but they were easy to clean and I had many of them.

Also notice the planking of this bridge is set at an angle rather than straight across. I think that is a very good design and probably long lasting. I believe the piers of this bridge were the original to the railroad, they just updated the surface for the GAP.

You may also see the Pinkerton Tunnel in the background. That makes this a bridge over the Casselman River.

At the end of the day I visited the Fort Necessity National Battlefield where George Washington surrendered to the French and Indians. It was really underwhelming. This time I took absolutely no photos from the battlefield.

I ended up poaching a site just north of Fort Necessity.

Man on a bicycle loaded with camping equipment.

A woman in a four-wheeled vehicle pulled by a single dog.

Dog transportation (photo)

I had a chance to see this unique device and talk with the owner. They were just unpacking their truck when I ran into them, I got to see the dogs and how they assembled the device.

A view from just above the water of a narrow river with rocks in the flow and woods in the background.

Casselman River (photo)

The entrance of a dark tunnel with Pinkerton in concrete above it and green plants above.

Pikkerton Tunnel (photo)

A narrow river winds through steep green hills

Casselman River from the Pinkerton High Bridge (photo)

Tent in the woods

Bike and tent in the woods (photo)

A typical poached campsite well off the road and hidden in the trees. This was my home for most of the time on the road. I still feel that some of my best nights sleeping were in my sleeping bag, in remote places like this.

A dead tree looking up with live trees on the left and blue sky on the right.

A dead tree (photo)

May 27, 2002

Today I left the GAP and headed up US 40 to Washington Pennsylvania. My general destination was TRIPIL, the Tri-County Patriots for Independent Living. The organization has since changed their name, but at the time, Kathleen Klienman ran the Center for Independent Living in a very unique way.

Her job was supervised by the TRIPIL membership of 250 people with disabilities in the Washington PA area. She had survived a take-over play by the board with a mass-demonstration of the membership who demanded real Independent Living and overthrew a medical-style administration.

While this is not big news in the wider world, Kathleen made a huge splash in the world of Independent Living. I am not sure how Kathleen and I became friends, but I do recall that at one ADAPT Action she trusted me to drive her van. It has hand controls and a ramp, but I did not “tie-down” anyone with the seatbelts or wheelchair securement. I laughed and called it the “danger van.” Still, somehow Kathleen seemed to like me.

I would be working on my next article for the MCIL Journal on the Tri-County Patriots. My plan was to ride close to Washington PA, poach a campsite just outside the city and ride in early to spend the day at TRIPIL. I would be arriving on a weekday so I assumed that everyone would be at work.

But I was not working on this day. I was still a bicycle tourist in western Pennsylvania. On the right is a photo of a statue “Madonna of the Trail.” I believe that I have seen this somewhere else before, likely Kansas. I may be wrong, or I may just think that this statue belongs somewhere else, but I hope that I can verify that it is someplace out west that I have visited.

US 40 is called the “National Pike,” or “National Road” and has historic markers all along the path up from Fort Necessity. Below is a tollhouse on the National Road called Searights Tollhouse, that is right on the road.

Brick building with a round section and white rail.

Searighs Tollhouse (photo)

View far above a wide river with a small hill town and mountains in the background.

The Monongahela River (photo)

An overlook of a green field with hills in the background.

Pennsylvania Landscape (photo 1)

A look over green hills and fields.

Pennsylvania Landscape (photo 2)

There are quite a few vistas from the side of the road on the National Pike. I didn’t realize that the locals consider this mountainous country. It seems as if I was always climbing. The fact is that the hills in Pennsylvania and much steeper than the mountains in Colorado. Typically, the roads just go straight up the incline and do not snake around to keep the slope shallow.

A three story home made of large brick with white columns.

Century Inn (photo)

Colorful homes among green hills

Washington PA (photo)

I ended up poaching a campsite at a park on the edge of Washington PA. In small western towns, the “city park,” is often intended for camping. Here in the east I was developing a style of “urban camping” that is now called “homeless.” I would just pitch my tent out of sight and I did not have any trouble. I did make a point to not draw attention, but I was not invisible. I often had my computer on and a light or candle burning.

May 28, 2002

Building framed in the sign for the Trip-County Patriots for Independent Living

Twenty years ago I visited the Center for Independent Living in Washington Pennsylvania. I was working on another piece for the MCIL Journal. The last CIL I visited was in Roswell, New Mexico and I had bypassed CILs in Eastern Pennsylvania because I had done reports during the ADAPT Action. I could choose what CILs I visited and I just selected the one in Washington PA and to visit Kathleen Klineman.

I asked many questions and I took a bunch of 640x480 photos, because I anticipated putting them on the web with an article about the Washington CIL. They showed me around the center and I visited the courthouse that was just next door. I don’t know why I toured the courthouse, it was in the middle of town and a spectacular building, but I did not retain any of the history. It reminds me of the gaudy Mississippi state Capitol building. I took a photo outside and a couple inside. Man in hardhat working on downtown streets

Also downtown I took a photo of a construction worker. I don’t know why this caught my eye, but I suppose I wanted to show downtown Washington PA. I may have just spent so much time alone and on the rural path that I was amazed to see so many people.

A domed building with columns against a blue sky.

The Washington County Courthouse (photo)

People sitting around a conference table.

Man using a wheelchair using a computer with several unused computers around him. A Y2K style computer.

Man works at his desk.

Jim Glozier

I have known Jim since 1998, when Diane Coleman introduced us at a Not Dead Yet protest in Washington DC. Jim and his family live south of Washington PA and invited me to stay with them.

Woman speaks in profile

Kathleen Klienman

She runs the Center for Independent Living in Washington PA. She has a basement room where I stayed that night. She called it “Tom Olin’s room.” That is a reference to the photographer for ADAPT and my friend. It was really grounding to have close contacts and share with friends and activists from around the country.

Gold handrail in the interior of a building.

The Washington County Courthouse interior (photo)

Looking down stairs to wooden doors in the interior of a building Dark wooden bookcase in the Interior of a building under some stairs.

Hallway with backlight windows Interior dome

Red-headed woman in profile. Round rosetta window

Man makes questioning face. Woman speaks in profile.

Man stands with his arms crossed, woman sits listening.

Jim and Kathleen together at TRIPIL.

May 29, 2002

I stayed in a bed at Kathleen’s house, in “Tom’s room,” and I went into the office with her. On the way in, she stopped by a “round barn” for me to see and photograph. She pointed out that this was a historic design for the area. I had noticed the “Mail Pouch Tobacco” painted on many barns. I had never seen this before and never heard of it. When I first saw it, I thought it was unique, but by the time I cycled into Washington PA, I had seen probably a hundred.

I could have started a photo theme at that point, but I am not really any kind of officianido of barns. I did take more interest and I did get some barn photos. But I didn’t come up with a theme and, in fact, I realize now that my only theme to these photos is what interests me on the side of the road. Honestly, I didn’t think that it was a real product, I asked my Pennsylvania friends about it because I thought it was some kind of legacy painting.

When you try to understand why someone would ride their bike around the United States, I suppose you may help answer that question with the speculation that he enjoys looking at what is on the side of the rural highways. What is on the side of rural highways in Pennsylvania? Barns.

From my perspective, I do not dislike barns and I have plenty of experience of beautiful barns, working barns and the ruins of barns to talk about. My experience does not always relate to my interests. I have the ability to ride past a barn most of the time. If I hadn’t stopped to see friends in Washington PA, I would have probably not thought any more about the barns that I passed on this trip. However, now I notice barns more and the structure they have and when I can, I tell the story of the round barn near Washington PA that I have seen.

All day while my friends were at work, I rode my bike south to visit “CASA GLOZIER” near the West Virginia border. The Glozier’s live about 40 miles south of Washington PA in a rural area. I took Highway 19 South to Waynesburg, and Highway 18 the last 20 miles southwest. I ate lunch at the Southside Café in Waynesburg, I was sure that Jim had suggested that and I ambled into CASA GLOZIER about the time Jim was getting home from work.

A weathered round wooden barn with small windows

The round barn (photo)

The round barn was an historic sight here in western Pennsylvania. I am not sure why it is round or what the use or the little windows were for, but it clearly is a very sturdy design and attractive.

A red brick 3-story building with a round turret

Architecture south of Pittsburg (photo)

A red brick building with white Corinthian columns and domed spire.

This is the Greene County Courthouse in Waynesburg Pennsylvania
Just off my path this day was the Greene County Courthouse. I don’t know if Kathleen or Jim had suggested I visit, but I did take a photo. It was a small town square. I made it a couple of blocks south to a café in town for lunch.

Below is a rabbit I photographed at my destination for the day: CASA GLOZIER.

A rabbit in the grass

A rabbit hides in green grass

Rabbit in the Glozier’s back yard (photo)

A flat roof home on a hill. A boy smiles at the camera.

A wooden bench on the edge of a pond.

Jason Glozier (Top Left) shows me around his home the fantastic CASA GLOZIER (Top Right).

The rural setting included a pond and flowers.

I got to tell of my adventures so far on the trip and had a chance to use my computer. I stayed downstairs with the boys. I slept in my sleeping bag on the floor at CASA GLOZIER.

A yellow Iris with small brown veins

Yellow Iris at CASA GLOZIER (photo)

A white iris with yellow highlights

White Iris at CASA GLOZIER (photo)

A purple iris with yellow highlights

Purple Iris at CASA GLOZIER (photo)

A close up of a purple iris with yellow highlights. Dog laying on its side Candid photo of a woman's face in profile

Above is Laura Glozier

The Glozier’s dog (Top Left) and my attempt at Macro Photography on the bottom left.

May 30, 2002

A small town with red brick 3-story building on a 2-lane highway.

Twenty years ago today, I set out from CASA GLOZIER and headed south out of Pennsylvania into the West Virginia hills. There are two great stories I like to tell about this day. I rode into Hundred, West Virginia and wanted to find out about a rumor I heard that it is the town where Hank Williams died.

Hundred is a beautiful little mountain town. It is not, by the way, where Hank Williams died. It is not even close. Riding my bike into town, the only place I thought I could go to get information on this subject was the Public Library. Even back in 2002, I thought of a library before I thought of Internet search for this information. I had a computer with me, I could turn to it if I could not get the info from the librarian. I did not have any connection to Hank Williams, except we were both from Alabama. I suppose I was imagining finding some very obscure site in the United States where I found and visited an iconic event.

Hank Williams died, on new years day 1953, near Oak Hill West Virginia about 150 miles south of Hundred. He was driving north from Knoxville and headed to Canton Ohio. Not anywhere near hundred. But, for a long time I repeated the rumor I had heard and suggested that he had died in Hundred, but his death in the backseat of his Cadillac was not noticed.

The public library in Hundred did not dissuade me from spreading this disinformation, but the Hundred Public Library itself is a great story that I will repeat here even though I attempted to verify it by online research and have failed. I have emailed the Library and I hope to have some details.

What the librarian told me was that the state of West Virginia has a book mobile that would visit the small mountain towns and that it broke down in Hundred. The book mobile was a state program, but did not have maintenance funds, so the book truck and all the books were stuck in Hundred. Rather than allot money to fix the truck, Hundred just adopted the mobile as its permanent public library and eventually, built a small library where the book mobile had broken down. The little public library is right on the side of the highway and you can imagine an old box truck stopped there.

I think it is a great story and I have told that one also. I hope to find out soon if it is true.

A vista that shows green mountains and steep slopes into valleys. Boy in wheelchair with similar aged boy outside in the sun.

A weathered wooden home on a slope of surrounding green hills. Wide river with small village on the far bank, viewed through trees.

Man in bicycle helmet with his arms spread wide holding the sign post under the WELCOME TO Wild, Wonderful West Virginia sign.

I was still taking many of the photos in a 640x480 format so they would be easy to put right on the web. Above (previous page) are Kyle and Jason Glozier seeing me off in their driveway. The other photos are landscapes I thought I would put right on the web. Above on this page are three 640x480 photos I made to show me crossing into West Virginia. Of course, Harper’s Ferry was in West Virginia and I made another trip across the Potomac near the end of the C&O Canal. Notice my sleeveless Elvis shirt and glasses.

A small town with red brick 3-story building on a 2-lane highway.

Downtown Hundred, West Virginia (photo)

A vista that shows green mountains and steep slopes into valleys.

Mountains of West Virginia (photo)

While riding my bike through West Virginia I could not help but sing out loud the John Denver song “Take Me Home Country Roads.” This was one of the many vistas I had in the ups and downs of the backroads of West Virginia.

A weathered wooden home on a slope of surrounding green hills.

West Virginia home (photo)

Wide river with small village on the far bank, viewed through trees.

The Ohio River (photo)

May 31, 2002

I camped in the Paden City Park that was right along the Ohio River. I was able to get on the road headed south early and made it to Sistersville, West Virginia before 9:AM. The draw for Sistersville was that it had a ferry over the Ohio rather than a bridge. I stopped in Sistersville because they had a unique courthouse and took a photo of me at the door. Rather that hold my hands up, as I had been doing when I crossed a state line, I held my hands out. It is a strange photo. I was looking forward to the ferry, and I took a couple of pictures of me and my bike. This was also a state line crossing from West Virginia into Ohio.

Highway 7 on the Ohio side is known as the Ohio River Scenic byway. It was very scenic, and I took a photo of my new interest in barns. The barn had the Mail Pouch advertisement. I also took a photo of the scenic nuclear power plant on the West Virginia side of the river.

Historic markers that reads: 1788 Pioneer use of the book of Common Prayer preceded Judge Arius Nye’s 1826 founding of St. Luke’s parish. The Reverend John Wheat’s nurture led to the first church 1833. This church built 1856.

Somewhere on this scenic byway I actually broke my rim. I had been attempting to keep up with keeping my wheels true, but I was probably to blame for over-tightening one spoke. I had the wheels trued in Cumberland Maryland, and I had ridden some on gravel, but I was not expecting to have problems so soon. The alloy rims I had were very good, but they were not made for that weight. The break looked something like a ceramic crack and it pulled the spoke out of the rim. The rim was shot, I had to get another one, so I continued to ride on it and I’m lucky I didn’t puncture the tube.

I visited the Pedal Shop in Marietta Ohio to get a new rim. Again I took a photo of my bike disassembled and all my stuff lying around the floor. I still have a mismatched rear rim and front rim on that bike.

I didn’t get a loaner bike, I just walked around the big city of Marietta while they replaced my rim. Just a block from the bike shop I stopped to read an historic marker in front of the St. Luke’s Episcopal Church. By some chance, the sign mentioned “John Wheat.” The sign reads:

1788 Pioneer use of the book of Common Prayer preceded Judge Arius Nye’s 1826 founding of St. Luke’s parish. The Reverend John Wheat’s nurture led to the first church 1833. This church built 1856.

I took a photo of the sign because my mom was very involved in genealogy back in 2002. I have no reason to believe that Reverend Wheat is any relation to me, but it was such an odd coincidence that I wanted others to see this odd connection in the wilds of Ohio. Before I ever saw this historical marker, I had this feeling that I should look and read them each time I pass them on my bike trip. I guess that finally after reading these markers all over the country, one finally had my name on it.

An orange 2-story brick building

Sistersville City Hall (photo)

Cyclist on the rail of a boat beside his bicycle. Man stands on the steps of a City Hall with arms out.

Cyclist on the rail of a boat beside his bicycle. The rail of a boat leans a bicycle.

Cyclist on the rail of a boat beside his bicycle. The pilot house of a ferry

Crossing into another state I typically hold my arms up at the state line. I cannot explain why I changed to having my arms out and why I thought I needed three photos of me crossing the Ohio.

Previous page top left is me posing at the Sistersville City Hall. The pose is terrible.

Previous page bottom left is my bike with a new rim on the Sistersville Ferry. Photo above left is the pilothouse on the ferry. It looks like I may have been the only one to cross.

I did look for ferries to cross major rivers. I had bad luck on many bridges. I remember a metal deck bridge in southern Illinois and of course the long Maragana Spillway with no shoulder. I don’t recall the fare, but I think it was two dollars.

A weathered wooden barn painted black with yellow print reading: CHEW MAIL POUCH TOBACCO TREAT YOURSELF TO THE BEST.

Mail Pouch Barn (photo)

Two tall chimneys and two nuclear cooling towers beside a river.

Pleasants Power Nuclear Reactor (photo)

A 1960s syle one story flat roof building with a sign that reads Pedal Shop Bicycle tire rim with the spoke pulled out and broken.

A typical small town main street vista with shops and a street. Bike with missing wheel and camping gear strewn around.

A small town main street with various businesses along a street.

Downtown Marietta Ohio (photo 1)

A public building with a clock in the domed spire and an eight story red brick building against a blue sky.

Downtown Marietta Ohio (photo 2)

An orange brick building with spires at the corners

Two Photos above: St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Marietta Ohio where Reverend John Wheat nurtured the congregation in 1833. Rain water collects on the end of a zipper. a drop of water collects on the edge of a tent.

That night I camped at the Marietta Fairgrounds on the Muskingum River and it poured down rain all night.

June 1, 2002

The park in Marietta had an unmonitored campground at the entrance with a bathhouse and shower. But because the campground was empty, I chose to camp at the far end of a football field under the cover of trees. I was the only one in the park and I kept far from the narrow streets that connected the ball fields and other amenities. It was a very large public park but nothing was happening that evening. There was also a public restroom for the ballfields that was close to me.

I got to know it pretty well. As soon as I set up my tent, it began to rain. I had camped in the rain on this trip, but here in a field in Ohio, the rain turned into a downpour. I had a good site and I had seen the rain coming so I was ready. However, I have found this to be true: no matter how much you rainproof, everything gets wet.

Now it is not bad, and it still feels great to put on a dry shirt. But that feeling goes quickly because the shirt will be damp in no time. Everything gets wet.

The rain continued overnight and twenty years ago today I woke up to a solid rain. When the rain let up some I got out of my tent and took a photo. It made me feel that if I waited another hour or so into the morning, the rain would pass.

But a couple of hours later, the steady rain did not seem to be letting up at all. I remember thinking about just staying in my campsite all day. I had plenty to read and I had a charge on the computer. I had the movie “Outsiders” if I wanted to make a day of it. I also wanted to use that bathhouse to take a shower, but it seemed like I would not be able to get dry.

Eventually, I just got cabin fever. In that small tent, I could not spend the day. I made a plan to pack up my wet stuff and just ride through the rain. I would stuff my sleeping bag into a trash bag and everything I attempted to keep dry would be in some plastic bag. My new panniers had bright yellow rain covers and if it rained all day, I would get back into my damp tent and put on a dry shirt and crawl into my damp bag.

When I got packed up, I rode to the bathhouse and took a shower. It was not very satisfying because the rain had picked-up as I rode out of town. I remember being very cautious of the traffic and stopped in Marietta for a long brunch. That was the trick. Before noon, the rain gradually stopped and I got back on the road. The skies cleared and I looked for some place to dry my tent.

I had diverted from following the river to try to cut off a large southern bend. On the small highway I ran into a small ranch that had ostrich and alpacka right on the side of the highway. There was no sign and no one to answer my questions, it was just a strange roadside spectacle. I took several shots of the strange critters, but I made them all in 640x480. There is nothing on Google maps or in my search to tell me what this place is. So the strange photos are a lost archive of an odd moment in my jornada.

The photo below is my campsite in Marietta Ohio. You may be able to see the brown tarp under the tent I used as a groundsheet.

Blue rainfly over a tent against some trees with bicycle lying in the grass behind.

I notice the bags still on my bike. The trash bags that held the contents of the bags were in my tent. You may also make out a bungee cord fastened to the front of the fly. It is staked out in front and really made a great, easy-to-use tie-down.

It is a really small space to spend a lot of time. When it is not raining, it is a bug fortress and when you are around a lot of people, it is a little private space.

I had a flashlight, but for reading, I would use some candles I kept in a small tupperware container. I used the tupperware as a base for the candle.

I traded books with people I met and found at campground libraries along the way. Always paperbacks, I don’t recall what I was reading at this time. Often I would stick the book right behind my bike saddle. I have tried to find the books in photos to remember what I was reading, but I have not been successful.

I did not have a problem riding in the rain, what I worried about was my visibility. I would ride in misty rain depending on the highway. On the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive, I felt pretty safe. But out here on rural Ohio highways I needed a wide shoulder to ride in the rain.

I didn’t follow weather forecasts at all during this trip. People always assumed I was keeping up with some weather forecast; but I learned that I had to deal with the weather, whatever it was and I didn’t even try to predict the weather.

An old barn with Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco, Treat yourself to the best; painted in yellow on a black background.

Another Mail Pouch Barn (photo 1)

An old barn with Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco, painted in yellow on a black background.

Another Mail Pouch Barn (photo 2)

A close up of an Ostrich An Ostrich behind a fence

Two Ostriches and a goat behind a fence.

Two Ostriches behind a fence, one black, one brown.

A llama walks up to a llama that is lying down. A Llama walks past a horse

On the previous page are four photos of ostriches I saw just off the rural Ohio highway. It was a strange sight and I couldn’t think of anything else but to take these photos. I stopped but there was nothing that explained this to me. Some people have ranches with houses and cows and some people have ranches with ostriches and llamas.

The two photos above show the llamas that I also thought were also strange. The whole little environment seemed to work well there were younger ostriches and the llamas seemed to get along with the horse.

I must have looked pretty strange to them also.

Brown still water between two green shores.

Raccoon Creek (photo)

June 2, 2002

Twenty years ago I woke up on the side of the road and made more than eighty miles toward Cincinnati. I was following the Ohio River, and in this segment I headed west to avoid a large southern bulge in the river's course. I had moved to the James A. Rhodes Application Highway, which was also a way to cut off the northern bulge in the course of US Highway 50 that headed into Cinci from the northeast.

The James A. Rhodes Application Highway is more rural and winds through the valleys and diminishing foothills of eastern Ohio. Although I made good time, I also had my first flat front tire. The rear tire and rim had been such trouble, the flat in the front was so much easier to fix. I didn’t have to unload the whole bike. I didn’t have to turn the thing upside down and I didn’t have to remove and replace the chain. I switched out the tube and repaired the one I had taken off and folded it up to be the next in line to go back into the rim. I was able to fix this with the bike on the side of the road and I used a road sign to prop up my bike. The rear tire is so different. Bicycle loaded for camping with its front wheel removed and the front bags strewn along the side of a road.

At the end of the day, I stopped in Sardinia to get supplies and laundry. I had stopped yesterday following the rain and dried my tent and fly, but my clothes were still wet and my towel was dirty from the rain yesterday. I just tossed everything in the washer: tent, fly, sleeping bag, towel and any clothes. I would also use the dryer, but I only dried my tent, fly and sleeping bag for about 5 minutes. The nylon would dry quickly and I didn’t want them to be hurt by the heat.

At the laundry I got a photo of two women who were interested in my adventure. I can imagine the horrible job I must have done explaining what I was doing. I am sure they didn’t care. People often asked me direct questions about camping, biking and safety. I was always working to allay their fears and I thought I had to be a cheerleader for meaningless cross-country travel. I don’t know why I took their photo. They posed for me and I suppose I was being polite.

For twenty years the question that people asked that I really did not personally grapple with was loneliness. I was traveling alone, and I didn’t even think that anyone I knew would even consider something like my jornada. I also totally conceived of it as a solo trip with little or no planned stops. The things I would have to plan to include someone else or a group were completely absent. The planning (or lack of planning) and each decision was my own and I was very happy with that administrative arrangement. Two women smile and pose in a laundry.

I know that a friend of my sister was planning a cross-country bike trip and called me for advice. We talked about practical things: gear, money and the daily routine. It was great to speak with someone about bike touring and I hope that I had some helpful tips for her. My sister told me later that she didn’t make it cross-country. She started out strong, but just didn’t get along with the other riders she was with.

Thirty years ago, on my second cross-country bike ride, I remember a guy I met in Paducah, Kentucky asking me if I carried a gun. I was having my bike worked on at a bike shop at the time and he could see all the bags strewn around the floor. I stood there like a deer in headlights, I was not expecting that question. Before I could answer that I hadn’t even considered carrying a gun, he answered for me.

“Of course you do,” he said. “Bears and snakes and things.”

What flashed through my brain was that I don’t want to tell anyone I don’t have a gun. They may see me as an easy mark, a potential target for robbery. I don’t believe that is true, but it was clear that the animal I believe was most dangerous, the one I would most likely need a gun for protection was not bears or snakes, but people.

That is a sad comment on life, but I have never carried a gun on my bike and I have never needed one. Just a couple of summers before that bike trip I had volunteered in Alaska and the US Forest Service asked me to qualify with a rifle. We had to carry a .375 Holland and Holland everywhere we went as protection from bears. It is a big gun.

The bottom line was that I had many bear encounters while I was in Alaska. I never took that rifle off of my shoulder around bears. When I was not on Forest Service time, I had more bear encounters than when I was “on the clock,” and I survived without firearms.

I was bitten by a copperhead when I was five years old at Fall Creek Falls State Park in Tennessee. I think I have a very healthy fear of snakes, but I also have knowledgeable respect. I have caught more than sixteen in my yard since last summer. I kept track because I have released them all in the stonework I built on our corner to hold a container garden. I am careful, but I also believe that I can coexist with snakes. On the other hand, I can’t tell you just how frightening that rattlesnake was back in New Mexico on this bike trip. See photos of the rattler.

I may have also been making good time because I knew the St. Louis Cardinals would be playing three games against the Cincinnati Reds starting June 4.

Mail Pouch Barn (photo)

Green field with small hill and blue sky in the distance

The Ohio Countryside (photo)

There is a lot of countryside and the feel in the change from the mountains of West Virginia to the side of the Ohio River. You can also feel the valleys level out and many things that I think are easy to miss traveling on an Interstate. I noticed the difference between US 50 and the more rural James A. Rhodes Appalachian Highway.

An old barn with Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco, Treat yourself to the best; painted in yellow on a black background.

Another barn. My obsession did not end, but it did not last much longer. The roof of this barn seems to be in much better shape than the Mail Pouch advertisement. I don’t ever look for chewing tobacco, but I feel pretty confident that I would not be able to find any in Memphis Tennessee. That sounds like a challenge I can take up today.

Bicycle loaded for camping with its front wheel removed and the front bags strewn along the side of a road.

The front wheel does carry a lot of weight, but I did not have nearly as much trouble with the front rim and tire as I did with the back wheel. With that signpost to prop up the bike, I could change the tube right on the side of the road.

June 3, 2002

Dealing with large cities is tough. It is the traffic.

Thirty years ago, on my second cross-country bicycle trip, I dreaded riding into St. Louis. My plan was to ride in early Sunday, take a quick photo under the arch and make it out of the metro area. The main purpose of the plan was to avoid the city traffic. The plan worked downtown, but later in the day, north of the city the Missouri River bridge was a nightmare. I have always studied over my maps and made a plan to avoid traffic when I get to cities.

My Cinci plan was very different from St. Louis. I rode into town and use bike paths and sidewalks. I planned to hit the lull in traffic between morning rush hour and the end of the day. Once inside Cincinnati, I would start looking for an urban campsite. I had used this technique before, most notably Fairfax Virginia as I rode into the Washington DC metro area. I was looking for someplace I could pitch a tent in the populated area, but just out of sight.

I was able to find a good spot along the river, but I didn’t wish to set up camp until it was getting dark. So I ambled around downtown Cinci looking at the sites and seeing if I could find a better spot. Like St. Louis ten years before, the hard part about big cities is the traffic. There was also a lot of construction when I was downtown. I suppose it always seems like there is construction in large cities. With more density, there must be more renewal and so things are being destroyed and replaced.

Riverfront stadium was my destination the next night and it was in the process of being replaced. Right beside Riverfront, Cincinnati was building a new stadium. It was actually going to be nearly on the same spot, you could see the construction in centerfield, and there were no seats in the outfield. Twenty years ago was the last season for Riverfront Stadium, they blew it up before 2003. I am pretty nostalgic that I was there and saw the Reds play in the final season of Riverfront. The Big Red Machine.

I had selected a campsite close to construction. Not near the site but along the river where I could see the construction site. I was at the far end of a parking area, hidden in the scrub trees. I worried that in the moring construction workers may park at that end and they may see my tent.

While I waited for the sun to go down, I found a statue of Lincoln in an out of the way area of downtown. I got a photo of me standing on the statue pedestal beside Lincoln. Strangely, a young girl was also in the park and I got a photo of her with me and Lincoln. Now, twenty years later, as I look back, I see myself as impulsive and gregarious. At the same time I was traveling alone and most of the time I was contemplative and introspective.

An old bridge with blue painted span and stone pillars that hold the suspension cables.

The John A. Roebling Bridge (photo)

A city street with tall buildings on either side and light traffic.

Downtown Cincinnati (photo)

Looking a Kentucky (photo)

A downtown street in Cincinnati with a bus on the left side and tall buildings on either side of the street.

More downtown Cincinnati (photo)

A statue of Abraham Lincoln

Statue of Lincoln (photo)

Close-up of the face of the statue of Lincoln

Lincoln (photo)

Man stands holding Lincoln's leg with his other arm outstretched

A statue of Abraham Lincoln with man holding Lincolns left leg and a young girl holds his right leg.

Hanging out with Lincoln in downtown Cinci. I took this photo with my camera on top of a bag I placed on the bench in Lytle Park. For my second shot I was assisted by a young girl who jumped up on the statue’s pedestal with me.

At night a tent is visible in the cover of trees. A river and lights are in the background.

Urban Camping. Right along the river at the end of a parking lot I found this campsite that was both out-of-sight and easily accessible from downtown Cinci. I picked out the spot when I came into town, and came back here two days later as I was getting ready to leave.

Night hides a tent in the cover of trees.

At night a tent is visible in the cover of trees. A river and lights are in the background.

Urban Camping on the Ohio (photo)

June 4, 2002

I got up early because I didn’t want to be seen by any construction workers that got to the site at sunrise. I was right, people came to the construction site early, but they parked at the other end. It really turned out to be a good site for me to camp. I just packed up my gear on the bike and did not make coffee. Being downtown, I thought that it would be easy to find a place to get coffee. However, I walked my bike around and could not find any place for breakfast or to get coffee.

Action, sound and lights swirled around one building lobby. It was a morning news show that you could see from the street. I walked up with my bike and watched a little while through the large windows. They piped the dialogue out to the street but I was not interested and I did not stay long. I don’t know if I was in the background of any of the shots, I don’t know if they put me on TV that morning or not. I think I stood out there for about five minutes before I continued on to find a place for breakfast. Brightly lit room with cameras pointing at people at a desk.

About a block away a young guy ran up to me and asked me what I was doing. He was feeling me out for the show. He asked me if I was raising money and where I was from. While he seemed interested, I believe my rambling explanation of my pointless bike trip did not convince him to follow me as a possible human interest story. I really should have developed an elevator speech about what I was doing. I think I could make it sound pretty good:

I work at the Memphis Center for Independent Living. After about four years of working with people with disabilities I finally asked my boss: What is Independent Living? She challenged me to take that question to the streets. There are over 400 IL Centers in the United States. “Go find out what Independent Living is,” she said. I am riding my bike across the country. I have visited five Centers so far, demonstrated in Washington DC for Medicaid reform, I have camped for two months and I have biked over two thousand miles in my search for Independent Living.

It has taken me twenty years to write that elevator speech. At the time I rambled and “you knowed” my way through some incomprehensible unrelated crap. I didn’t think about getting sponsors for my jornada, because I couldn’t imagine pulling together any reasonable explanation. I know that my exposition about myself generated many more questions than it answered and if someone had the patience to try to unravel what I was talking about, I am sure I would confuse them about something else.

On the other hand, I was specifically in Cinci to watch a ballgame. I don’t know if Cincinnati has an IL Center. I bet they do.

A statue of a military man from the ninetieth Century rides a horse

William Henry Harrison Statue (photo)

The infield is visible and players react to a fly ball into right field. The replacement stadium is in the background.

The replacement for Riverfront Stadium being built in center field (photo)

The people at the ballpark, The upper deck is nearly empty.

The crowd at the game (photo)

The people at the ballpark, The upper deck is nearly empty. A fan is in the foreground as the nearly the whole field is in frame. A new stadium is being built in the background.

The batter twists at home plate watching the ball he hit as the pitcher reacts moving to the right side of the frame. The crowd in the stands in the foreground and the players watch as the pitcher has just finished his throw.

The pitcher has thrown the ball and it is in mid-air as the batter watches. Baseball hat with cardinal and bat turned around backward.

The outfield of a ballpark is shadowed by a large unfinished stadium in the outfield. The pitcher follows through following the pitch and the batter does not swing.

The pitcher releases the ball and his leg extends above his head. Between pitches the players look relaxed, standing still with a Reds player on third base.

The batter hits the ball with a runner on second base. The pitcher has thrown the ball that is frozen between the mound and the batter.

Pitcher with follow-through raises his leg above his head. The batter is in mid swing. The pitcher is just about to release the ball as his arm comes forward.

Man sits in the foreground wile four companions drum for a crowd at night outside a stadium. Young man drums on the side of a 5 gallon plastic paint bucket.

Man sits in the foreground wile four companions drum for a crowd at night outside a stadium.

June 5, 2002

Photo of a bike heavily packed, leans on a brick wall.

I did not write anything about the game. St. Louis won 8-5.

Traveling by bike is so different, I needed to have some normal tourist experience to add to my story. In a way, I believe that I looked at Cincinnati as a vacation from my bicycle vacation. I walked and rode the bus in Cinci. I visited some downtown parks and had brunch downtown. I think that my time in Cincinnati was mostly so I could gather some non-bike adventures.

Twenty years ago I stayed in the Days Inn Cincinnati. I didn’t know anyone in the city. My ADAPT friends lived in Toledo and Dayton, I did not have any guidance on what to do. Having spent so much time in the rural corridore I was riding my bike, I thought the big city would offer me a big change.

I planned to go to the game again this evening and I would eat at the ballpark. As it turned out, the game was rained out. When I had brunch, the sky was clear and it really was a beautiful day. Rather than looking around the city, I spent the day in my hotel room. The skies got dark and it was a rain-out before I left for the park. I ended up making dinner on my campstove in the room.

I did not take any photos today. Thirty years ago in June I began a bicycle camping trip across the country. On the 1992 trip I brought a small 110 instant camera with “disk” film. I sent the disks back to my parents to develop. I thought I would include some photos from that trip here to compare my photos.

The first photo I took (above) was of my bike. As a matter of fact, my bike is in 10 of my first 10 photos and 13 of the first 15. You can see the groovy custom paint job of blue white and pink.

This is a mountain bike with aero bars on the wide handlebars. The bag on the back did not stay long. Those are the same rear panniers I began the 2002 trip with and the front panniers are the same. The mountain bike has slick, high-pressure tires and fenders. That is something I miss on my bike in 2002.

A bicycle packed for camping leans against a sign that notes the road passing through the left side of the photo is a bike route.

In the Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky, I took this opportunity to make my bike the main subject of the photo. While this mountain bike was not as efficient a ride as the cross-bike I have now, it was more robust and the wheels stayed true and required much less maintenance. The wide handlebars let me keep my head up and it was a very comfortable ride. Those are the same aero bars on the front I had on the 2002 bike and are intended to make my ride more efficient and aerodynamic.

Bicycle in the bed of a pick-up truck as it crosses a bridge. The construction of another bridge is evident in the background.

North of St. Louis I had a terrible experience on the Mississippi River bridge. I did not want to repeat that as I crossed the Missouri River so I hitchhiked across the river in a pick-up truck.

Now this was 1992. I mean to say it was a different time. I don’t know if that really makes a difference, but I did just walk up to someone at a gas station and ask if they would carry me and the bike over the river.

There wasn’t a discussion of money changing hands and I doubt if I even introduced myself. There was no talk about me riding in the cab, I wanted to ride with my bike and while I enjoyed the short trip in the truck, I got my camera out and took a shot of my bike. You can see the structure of the bridge they are building in the background and you may be able to make out more of the paint job on my bike.

A highway has indistinguishable writing on its surface, a bicycle is propped up beside the road with shallow fields in the background.

I can’t help but wonder what was written on the highway where I stopped to get this photo. I took this on the peninsula between the Mississippi and Illinois River but did not record what was in the street.

I have many of these odd mysteries and gaps in my memory of this trip and the one that was only twenty years ago. Just this year, driving home to Memphis from our trip to Hannibal Missouri, I crossed that bridge that was haphazardly in the background of the photo I made thirty years ago.

Bicycle loaded for camping with a statue of a woman in the background holding an infant with a toddler clinging to her leg. Woman holding an infant, child holds her leg. She is dressed as a pioneer with a stern look on her face.

The photo on the right I took on May 27, 2002 near Beallsville Pennsylvania, just outside of Washington PA. It is just a few pages back. I knew it looked familiar. The Madonna of the Trail is a statue in a few places around the US. In 1992 I took a photo of my bike in front of the statue in Council Grove Kansas. I was lying on my back to take the photo, you may be able to see my leg and bike shorts in the shot on the left.

June 6, 2002

Cyclist stands on the rocks of the near rim of a steep canyon. A silver bridge spans the canyon in the background.

The rain-out of the game last night was a blow to the tight schedule I was trying to keep. No, that is sarcastic. I was on a pointless trip. I did have a good time at the baseball game the night before, but in reality, I was happy that I was inside for that very hard rain. Twenty years ago, it was another nice day. The photo on the right is me at the Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado on my bike trip thirty years ago.

I used my day at the hotel to finish and publish to the web my article on TRIPIL that I had visited back on May 28 and 29. When I visited the Centers for Independent Living in New Mexico, I was most amazed at just how different they were from the CIL where I worked and those that I knew about in Denver and Nashville. I also had a bias that was developing. Some CILs were “good CILs” and some were “bad CILs.”

The main distinction was a “good CIL” focused on advocacy and activism in the community. MCIL, I felt was a “good CIL” and before I got there, MCIL had protested at Movie Theaters to comply with the ADA. MCIL also nurtured ADAPT activists and took on progressive ideas of disability rights and ending institutional partiality.

Twenty years ago, in 2002 before I left Memphis to start my jornada, I had released a survey of how the Memphis paratransit system was abandoning and not returning calls, photographed MATA vehicles parking illegally, participated in a demonstration at the state office building, sent HUD a list of demands from Tennessee ADAPT, and published nine articles to the MCIL Journal. During my time on the road so far I had published an additional nine articles, made a system complaint to the HHS Regional office for Civil Rights and participated in four days of demonstrations in Washington DC. I really felt I worked for a “good CIL.”

I asked difficult questions of the CIL employees. I asked about protests and Olmstead. But in New Mexico, the CILs were providers of transportation and home services. They would support the ADA and Olmstead but they wouldn’t sue anyone or complain to the Department of Health and Human Services. While they read about ADAPT protests around the nation, they didn’t seek out direct action.

The New Mexico CILs gave me the right answers, I mean we were on the same team. I am sure that just by my demeanor, and that I was riding a bicycle across the country, they could tell I had a love for the more active wing of Independent Living. I wrote positive articles about New Mexico Independent Living, but what I was learning about Centers was not all sanguine.

Above is my bike in Syracuse Kansas back in 1992. A bicycle leans against a sign that reads Welcome to Syracuse.

My view of the Washington Pennsylvania Center for Independent Living was completely opposite. I talked with people I knew, and the Executive Director who was just out in the streets of DC protesting with me. While I thought I came from a progressive CIL, I looked at the Tri-County Patriots for Independent Living (shortened to TRIPIL) as much more progressive.

TRIPIL defended the Independent Living outlook and particularly the role of advocacy against the more authoritarian, less challenging social-service model. Many people see advocacy as risky, because it could offend funding sources.

That quote from my article was the only real comparison I made with the New Mexico Centers.

TRIPIL provided a cyber-café that anyone could drop-in and use. In 2002 the idea of a cyber-café was unique, and these were computers that were loaded with accessibility features. Just before I left Memphis, MCIL began a partnership with Microsoft that would lead to something like the cyber-café. I attempted a cyber-café when I worked in Boulder, but I never could get the numbers that TRIPIL and MCIL had developed. It bothers me that this concept does not work today, but computing has developed in a very personal direction.

“IL Centers are making a mistake,” says Ms. Kleinmann, “by not having a large open space for the public to drop-in.”

I did link my article about MCIL’s Computer Lab to this article; but the main focus was that TRIPIL was a Membership organization and that people who believed in the Independent Living Philosophy elected the board and steered the direction of the organization. To make this distinction, Kathleen used her newsletter as an example. Like most non-profits that develop their newsletters “as their fundamental product,” she explained, the newsletter “is milled regularly focusing on narrow issues and highlighting donors or board members.”

Kathleen Kleinmann saw the TRIPIL newsletter as a response to need. She would avoid the “old habit” of self-promotion and highlight the voice of the disability community. Building community was underscored as the main task of TRIPIL. The open space, the welcoming attitude and the drop-in cyber-café all point to building the idea of community.

Again today I have no photos to share. It didn’t rain on this day twenty years ago in Cincinnati, but I spent my day mostly in the Days Inn working on the article. I also got out to try to get a refund on my baseball game ticket from yesterday. I had read on the ticket about their “rainout policy,” but I thought if I could talk to someone they may be so enchanted by my personality and the fantastical bicycle adventure that I was on, that they would give me a refund. A bicycle is in a dirt field with no contour that stretches into the distance under a blue cloudless sky.

On this page is a photo of my bike in Kansas on my trip in 1992. I wanted to show the remote and desolate environment that was sometimes a large part of the side of the road. I compare that to my trip twenty years ago and all the many things I passed but had no idea what they were.

But I went to the ballpark without my bike, and as usual, I did a poor job of describing my bike jornada. Of course, the St. Louis Cardinals were again the competition for the June 6, 2002 game and I could go to the game tonight. They would honor my rainout ticket.

The problem I had was a place to leave my bike and all my gear. If I set up an urban campsite, I would have to leave it for a few hours. If I just locked up my bike, I am afraid that people would steal the bags off. I didn’t want to spend another night in a hotel. So I just saved my ticket, maybe I would return later in the year and I could see another game at Riverfront.

I went back to the hotel and packed up my stuff. I had cleaned and dried everything and I was ready again to hit the road. I ambled around downtown as I had on June 3, when I had first arrived in Cincy. I was waiting for it to get dark so I could sneak into the same urban camping spot I had used before. My plan to miss the traffic was to get up and on the road early, break during the rush hour, and get far out of the metro area in the afternoon.

Blue domed tent with bicycle nearby and distant mountains on the horizon.

Campsite 1992 (photo)

On my trip in 1992 I had a dome tent. Here I am at a campsite near Canyon City Colorado. The dome was a 3-man tent that was just large enough for me and a little bigger than my 2-man tent. Most noticeable was that it allowed me to be on my knees, there was more headroom.

June 7, 2002

A cyclist stands by the Indian state line sign that says: Welcome to Indiana, crossroads of America.

I was up early and out of the downtown Cincy area quickly. I stopped for a long breakfast when I felt the pressure of the traffic rise and I was out of the state of Ohio by 1:PMC. I took a photo, the only photo I took on this day, at the Indiana state line. It was about 20 miles from downtown Cincy to the state line and once into Indiana I was back to rural highways and little traffic. I only rode about 45 miles, and I stopped at a campground that I had found on my computer while in Cincinnati. It was farther off the highway than I was used to but they have a shower and a grille you may use.

My friend and college roommate, Scott Gamel, lived in northern Indiana. I had two ideas for my trip west. I was headed for Denver, but I could head northwest to visit Scott and skirt Springfield to the south. This plan would join-up with my 1992 route to Colorado and cross northern Missouri and cut through Kansas from the northeast to southwest. I had decided on a new route. I was headed west to pass south of St. Louis, cross my 1992 bike route at the Mississippi River and head across south Missouri to visit my Grandmother Wheat in Joplin MO.

At the Brownings Camp, I thought again about heading up to see Scott. The real drawback was that between me and Lafayette Indiana was the city of Indianapolis. I was about 150 miles away and I could make that ride in two days, but navigating Indianapolis would add a day and possibly another motel stay.

Now, twenty years later, I cannot believe I didn’t think to do both. I suppose that I subconsciously did not want to visit Scott and I made some sound rationalization of why I chose the southern route. It would have been a couple more days on the bike, but I didn’t have a schedule to meet. If I had visited Scott I would have to talk about quitting Atlanta Christian College, where I went my freshman year. Scott was my roommate in Alumni Hall our first semester.

I finished my first year at ACC now called Point University and began at the University of Alabama in Huntsville my sophomore year. I didn’t tell anyone at ACC I was not coming back. I still have some of the letters from ACC students about their summer and plans when we returned to campus. Wow, back in 1983, we wrote letters. six people in a small space, one exaggeratedly laughing.

On the right is a photo of Scott Gamel (Third from the right), beside me (wearing a tie) at an apartment in Atlanta. The Photo is from my Yearbook HARVESTER 1983.

The simple explanation that I was too scared to talk with Scott about is how I lost my respect for Christian Doctrine. Our professor, Denver Sizemore, had never heard of the ontological argument for the existence of God. He gave us five proofs of God’s existence that were all about the same. The Bible says God exists: “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” Dr. Sizemore’s most compelling proof was the watchmaker analogy.

I was a debater in High School, as a matter of fact I was the Alabama state champion 1981 and 1982. I was the district semi-finalist with Eric Senn in 1980, we lost to Nancy Childress and John Gibbons from our High School. In 1981 John and I won the district and went to nationals and in 1982, Gary Thompson and I won our district.

My resumè in debate is really about critical thought when I was growing up. I had wonderful discussions with all the members of the Grissom Debate Team and there was a general principle that any position could be defended. We would often propose ludicrous things because the important thing was how well it was argued. When we talked about God, there was banter, but I believe it helped me to have a strong respect for what it takes to prove something.

I read and studied proofs of God. I can tell you now that I did not understand them. What I did believe strongly was that after two thousand years of theological thought, that someone had a good understanding of the proofs of God. I felt I needed a guide, the Christian philosopher that would make sense of the proofs and point me in the right direction.

I was aware that there were also significant questions about God’s existence. I knew from debate that it was always easier to be negative. In debate terms it was called “having presumption.” But in reality, everyone seemed to believe in God. The negative did not have presumption. I just wanted to be able to make the case for God, I was sure I could argue it well from that point. I never really thought of the question as finding the ultimate truth. But that is the rhetoric that theologians and philosophers tossed around, the first cause, ultimate truth.

I did not take “Christian Doctrine” until my second semester at ACC. It did not bother me at first that Denver Sizemore asked us to memorize Bible verses for each class. Memorization is one of my talents. Just ask me to recite “Terrance, This is Stupid Stuff,” or “Casey at the Bat.” Back then I also knew some Shakespeare Sonnets and I was happy to add some Bible to my repertoire. The Bible verses were short and you generally could add some non sequitur about class or news. “Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger.” Proverbs 19:15 The author dressed as Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols, a man dressed as Moses and a shirtless man with hairy chest dressed as a vampire.

The betrayal I felt was that Dr. Sizemore had never heard of the ontological proof of God. Nearly forty years ago I came to the epiphany that I had not found a guide for my belief in God. Who would have thought that finding the ultimate truth would be so difficult. I loved the people I met at ACC and I loved Scott Gamel. I just could not square my long life of 20 years with the experience at Atlanta Christian College.

Another photo from my 1983 ACC Yearbook, I am on the left, dressed as Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols. I am sorry you cannot see it in this photo, but I have a safety pin in my nose.

There were a lot of things that I was having trouble with back at ACC, but I just never thought of them as fundamental as the existence of God. I went to different churches in the Atlanta Metro area while I was at ACC. Mostly I went to the big boring ones where I could be fairly anonymous. But I also went to churches where people raised their hands when they prayed and some spoke in tongues. There were plenty of issues in modern doctrine to discuss; however, I just could not get past my Christian education stopping at the great watchmaker analogy.

Having only one photo to relive today, I thought I would take a little side-trip on the path I did not travel. I have this Christian past that ends in 1983. Twenty years ago, in 2002, I was not willing to go back to that past. When Scott died in 2014, I had this gadget that would create a likeness of Jesus in your toast. I think he would have loved it. But I never reconnected with Scott. When we were roommates he would have loved the face of Jesus in his tost. I just was not sure if after devoting thirty years to building a Christian Church if he would still find that humorous.

June 8, 2002

I think I have covered this but I just read through Part 2 of this retrospective and I hated to see the many 640x480 format photos. I believe I noticed another downside to the double formatI used. I believe I discriminated against the photo subjects. What I mean is that things I knew I wanted to save got high-resolution. Things I knew were going on the web got low-resolution. Some subjects got both because I knew I wanted to save it and it was going on the web. Sign at a rural intersection that says: RUMPKE OF INDIANA Sanitary Landfill VISITORS WELCOME

The problem is the photos I took in only the 640x480 format did not age well. At the time, I thought it was standard, and that the view on the web would be as good as one would expect for the Internet. I believe I made those as a kind of “lesser photo;” a snapshot. I would save and display them on the web, but they didn’t have the same significance as the photos I took in a high-resolution.

Of course, twenty years later it seems petty not to take all the photos in the highest resolution. For example, the three photos I took today, two are in 640x480 format and have a file size average of the two of 147 kilobytes. The one of the East Fork of the White River is in both formats, the high resolution photo is 1.2 megabytes. The lower resolution is about 12 percent of the size of the high-resolution. I suppose I felt that I had plenty of room to keep the lower-resolution, but I didn’t have the space to save lots of high-resolution photos.

That is too bad. I also regret not making more of those videos. The resolution of those are really poor, and I did terrible with the sound, but I love the idea and I like having the video. Again, when I saw that video at the time, the effort and poor resolution did not seem to create the kind of archive I was attempting to make.

While I would like to think I am a better photographer now. I really feel that the twenty-year old photos are better than I thought. They do hold-up and I am amazed at some of the color and lighting I see. I also see many errors and I work to correct some with the program Adobe Lightroom. I do think I took some photos that are worth seeing. I like this retrospective. I believe that the regret I feel is that I could have had many more good photos and memories of my trip if I had made them all in the highest resolution. I am afraid that I still would not know some of the people I photographed, but they would be better photos.

Someday I am going to find my lost file from this time. I am going to have to read through this again and add names to those photos that are of people I have no idea who they are. I will have to make corrections about dates, times and places. I will have to include a lot of the feelings and impressions that I had at the time. I would like this retrospective to be complete, but the more I say, the more I realize all that I have left out. Now, more than two months into my retrospective I realize that I am not writing an ending to this trip. There is a beginning that I stretched out, and this is Part Two, so I have to be at least entering the middle. I just don’t know how this will end.

Twenty years ago today my travels ended in Indiana. I poached a campsite on the side of US Highway 50, near Beaver Creek, after riding my bike about 95 miles. I took only three photos today, and two were of the same thing: The East Fork of the White River. The other photo was something I just thought was funny. As I was traveling west, I noticed a sign that read “RUMPKE OF INDIANA.”

I am not from this area and I have never heard of RUMPKE. Fortunately, the sign also told me what RUMPKE was. The sign stated: “Sanitary Landfill.” Being out in the rural parts of Indiana it did not seem too strange to find a Landfill, but the thing that caught my attention and caused me to stop my ride, one of the two subjects I took pictures of on this day was what the sign said after it announced what it was. I believe that a sanitary landfill in Indiana is just like a landfill in any other state, but this sign also lets you know that “VISITORS WELCOME.”

Brown water in the sunlight with green trees all along the banks

East Fork of the White River (photo)

June 9, 2002

Barren foreground, some water and cloudy skies.

I had put a lot of Indiana behind me on my long ride yesterday, twenty years ago. I was about 60 miles from the Wabash River where I would cross into Illinois. US 50 heads straight across Illinois into St. Louis and I had decided to make my way south to miss the big city. Before I got to the Wabash, I turned southwest to cross the cannonball bridge.

Unlike my previous state line crossings, I did not take a photo. I don’t recall a sign at the Illinois state line as I crossed over the river and into the small town of St. Francisville. I was headed for the Cape Girardeau bridge, I had crossed the Chester Mississippi River bridge on my 1992 bike ride. Ultimately I was headed for Denver, but I wanted to pass through my parents' childhood hometown of Carthage, MO, which is in the southwest corner of the state.

I had experience with US 50 back in Pennsylvania and on my earlier bike adventure in Colorado. But the US Highway was not as leisurely a route in Indiana, and I was looking forward to getting to the backroads.

I took only one full resolution photo along my ride. One low-resolution photo I took today really placed me on the map. It was an overhead sign reading “Wheatland.” Because my last name is Wheat. I suppose I was not feeling creative. But it shows that I was headed toward the US 50 bridge and turned south just past that point.

For the past two days, I have made photos of signs on the road. A few weeks ago, I had an interesting thought about taking photos of signs. I followed the ADAPT activists in May of this year and I see many posts that include a sign. The idea is that the sign says something you want to read and conveys the message in a short statement. Why am I more likely to read a photo of a sign than something written in a post?

It also is strange for ADAPT, because the photo of the sign is almost by definition not accessible. Blind people don’t get the message. To make it accessible you must put a description in the “ALT” tag. The strange thing here is that the image is the message. I mean that it is a photo of a sign.

I know that Tom Olin especially had some really great photos of people holding signs. It was not only the sign that he photographed, but also the person. I think it is that combination that says something. It says more than the sign’s message alone. The ALT tag on one of these photos would have to describe the look of the individual, personal expression as well as the readable part of the sign.

I am afraid that memes and phrases have replaced a complete thought. Not for everyone, but I see so much content on the web that can be consumed in a second or two. Not that it is bad, the best stuff is spread around and more people see it. Overhead traffic sign says: WHEATLAND with an arrow pointing to the right.

I don’t watch many commercials anymore, mostly I watch streaming shows. But there was a time when I thought commercials were the best things on TV. They were clear and concise, great productions that used the thirty seconds with impact. Of course, there were also bad commercials and I was not watching TV to see any commercials. I could recognize, however, that a good commercial was a good production and often better than the show I was intending to watch.

In the same way, I see the distinct difference between the signs Tom Olin photographed and the signs that ADAPT activists posted at the last action. There was value in the Olin production. The signs held by activists were just pictures of signs.

The photos I took of signs both have this same problem. If you didn’t know my last name was Wheat, you would not know why the Wheatland sign made it into my retrospective. Now, twenty years later, I have a hard time understanding why that made it. It is just a photo of a sign. Its ALT tag will read: Overhead road sign that reads Wheatland.

Now the other photo of a sign I took I think works. The sign says more than just the text of the sign. “RUMPKE OF INDIANA Sanitary Landfill VISITORS WELCOME.” Now I think that the text is funny. The reason I took the photo of that sign is that I thought its placement in rural Indiana made it a little more amusing and I still think of a dump that welcomes visitors as pleasantly humorous. From that I can’t help but think of more inferences, like: “Rumpke, please come see our stinking pile of trash.”

This may also be a function of the countryside of Indiana being pretty static. I did attempt to get some landscape photos, but like my photos from the overlooks along the Blue Ridge Parkway, they are all free from subjects.

Indiana Countryside (photo)

A blurry photo of a deer.

A blurry photo of a deer. A blurry photo of two deer.

In the evening I spotted these deer close to where I was setting up my tent. I took these photos, but they all are blurry, I just did not have enough light and skill to get a good photo.

I felt close to nature sharing the woods in Illinois with these deer. Strangely, I am more afraid of possums than I am of deer. I gage my fear by how hard it is to get to sleep after an encounter with a wild animal.

So far on this trip I have run into bears, rattlesnakes, racoons, lots of deer and many birds. I don’t think any have kept me from getting a good night's sleep.

Oddly, it was the humans while I was urban camping that I took the most care to avoid.

June 10, 2002

Stern looking man sitting in an ER room.

I woke up this morning, June 10, 2022 with some tooth pain. It is not bad, but it is coincidental. Twenty years ago I also had tooth pain.

Now that I think back, I cannot believe how I could have been so ignorant of what was going on. When I got up and packed up, I was feeling sluggish. I only rode about 12 miles and I stopped at Mt. Carmel, Illinois for lunch at a Mexican Restaurant. I rarely had a “sit-down meal” at lunch while on the road. My diagnostic skills are horrible. I did have a dull ache in my mouth, but I did not identify it as my tooth. I know this because that is what I told the ER doctor.

I ordered lunch, probably a chimichanga, but I could not finish it. Eating became painful. My solution at first was to eat more and power through. It was unlike me not to finish a meal, but I could not eat. The pain was terrible.

I could not ride, so I walked my bike to the Mt. Carmel Public Library. I don’t recall if I was able to get any work done at the library, but after a while, I used my map program to locate the local Emergency Room. I was frightened and I may have called Judy. I don’t recall what I did for a couple of hours at the library, but sometime that afternoon I realized that the pain was not going away and I walked my bike to the ER. I had to leave it outside with all of my stuff on it. I took my fanny pack and wallet in with me.

I didn’t have to wait long in the ER, but I did have to wait. Once I was taken back I had to wait more. I took out my camera and took the only photo from June 10. It is of me in the exam room waiting for the doctor. I believe the sour look on my face was genuine.

Sometime after High School, my dentist told me that I did not have wisdom teeth. He may have told me that I did not need to worry about them, but the message I got was that I didn’t even have them. Well I was wrong. I actually had four and one was coming in at an angle and had damaged my molar. The damage was an abscess. The ER doctor was very certain of this and amazed that I did not see any warning signs.

He gave me prescriptions for pain medication and the infection that was causing my lethargy. He said I needed to see a dentist right away and that I could not ride my bike. The antibiotic should make it possible for me to eat, but I had to have a dentist deal with my teeth. He prescribed pain meds for a couple of days, they also would keep me from riding my bike.

I know from my credit card bill that I paid $30.55 at the CVS in Mt. Carmel. I believe that I also got some Tylenol the doctor suggested but the rest of the day and the next few days are a blur of inactivity. I stayed at the Shamrock Motel in Mt. Carmel. I believe I chose this motel because it was the closest to the Wabash General Hospital. It was very close; about three blocks in the small town.

I know I called Judy and my parents, but I don’t recall the conversations or how lucid I was after taking the pain medication. I had to decide what to do about my jornada. I could put my bike on a plane and fly to Denver or Huntsville. I had looked into boxing up a bicycle for air travel when I was planning my big leap from Austin to Asheville and I did not feel a plane would be practical or affordable. My mountain bike was heavy and had wide handlebars, which would have to be removed. The aero bars, break cables and gear cables would also have to be removed for the box because they run through the head stem. I also had all my gear that would have to be boxed and will be charged additionally. The same process for the bus, and the same additional charges for luggage.

I had a dentist and I naturally thought of returning to Memphis to see her. I think my parents offered to pay for the dental work but I did not want to go back to Huntsville and see a new dentist. I thought again about renting a car. But at the time, I was taking meds that would prevent me from driving. When I spoke to my parents, they offered to come get me and take me to see my dentist in Memphis. I took that option and I made an appointment with my dentist Ruth Parker in Memphis.

My parents would need a couple of days to pack-up their RV and travel to Illinois. At Mt. Carmel I was nearly equidistant from Huntsville and Memphis. My parents were about 250 miles away and my mom used the trip to arrange to meet her sister who lives in Carthage, Missouri that is about 260 miles from Memphis. They would pick me up in Illinois and meet my Aunt and Uncle in Memphis. I had an appointment for Monday morning, June 17, 2002.

June 11, 2002

Dead fish hung out of reach on a pole.

Twenty years ago my main goal was to follow the ER doctors orders and recover. I slept in and was taking my meds but I decided to get out in the afternoon and have a healthy meal. I was still concerned about my teeth, but the doctor had given me tips on eating and made some suggestions.

I left my panniers and bags in the motel and I only took my fanny pack with my wallet and camera. My bike felt so different without the packs and weight. It was a complete change from yesterday, when I couldn’t ride my bike at all. I enjoyed riding around the small town and I rode down to the Wabash River. I was also looking for a good place where I could do some more “urban camping,” if you considered Mt. Carmel Illinois an urban area. I was thinking forward and thought at the end of the week I could cut my costs by checking out of the motel and camping in this area for one night before getting on the road.

But once I got to the river’s edge, I found a strange settlement. There were abandoned chairs and fire rings, old cars and other junk. There were some people obviously living down at the river, but no homes. They lived in cars and buses. While I was there, just before dinner around 5:30, there was on one out, but there was a lot of evidence of inhabitation. One area where people had a nice bus, it still looked like it was able to get on the highway right away, had mowed the grass around their area. They also had a boat. I took some photos of this odd spot. At one place there were dead fish hanging from a post about a dozen feet up. I didn’t take the effort to find out about the river edge community and I did not feel comfortable camping in this area, I was afraid of the humans. Just about 20 miles to the south was an Indiana State Park. I thought I could camp and recover at that site, so I also arranged to meet my parents there.

I just checked and I have not yet heard from the Hundred West Virginia Librarian. They said they would check with the oldest board member about the story I heard about that small community. I will let you know when I hear about the Hundred West Virginia Library origin story.

While I felt good enough to get out on my bike and get some photos, my focus was on healing. I did have to delay my jornada, I had to see a dentist. While this is a real down-side of living on a bicycle, because I was a day's drive from my parents and my dentist, it was more of a logistical problem. If I had this problem twice as far from my home, I imagine it would have been more of a financial problem. I would have to live in a hotel for a couple of weeks while I saw a local dentist, had whatever procedures and recovered. I would also have to pay for all the visits out-of-pocket. School bus used as a home, with mowed lawn around it on the bank of a river

When I arrived in Denver back in March I was still covered by my work insurance, and I saw a doctor in Colorado because I was pretty ill. I had started the jornada as a work experience, at least back in April I had thought of it as work and in May at the Washington DC protests. I referred to my position at MCIL as a “Special Assignment” and considered myself an MCIL honorary employee. Really, I was working under a contract. Insurance, however, does not work that way. Now looking back twenty years, it would have been less expensive if I would have arranged the care from a dentist there in Mt. Carmel and biked on.

Ultimately I would have four wisdom teeth removed and one tooth that was damaged by a wisdom tooth angling its way in my gums. At the time only one or two of the wisdom teeth were visible and although I trusted the ER doctor's assessment, he was not making any dental judgements about what care I needed. I was still pretty ignorant about what I needed. I was just learning that the infection of my tooth was responsible for my body aches and fever. I was bright enough to get that it was the source of my pain. It still had to be explained to me.

My parents offered to drive their RV up to Mt. Carmel and take me and my bike to my dentist in Memphis. I liked my parents' solution because it would also help alleviate the anxiety I was feeling. One day I am riding my bike 95 miles through the countryside and the next I could not ride at all. I was really physically okay, but I was shocked by something as insignificant as a tooth debilitating me so completely. I was unsure of myself and insecure of what to do next.

Now, twenty-years after the fact, it seems easy to just get a dentist in Mt. Carmel; problem solved. However, the sudden insecurity made it difficult for me to see simple solutions. I did not have any experience with this, I had only been to my dentist for cleanings. I think maybe the reason I trusted Dr. Parker so much is that she never found cavities or any problems with my teeth. I am sure she took x-rays, but I don’t know if My dentist should have been able to see this coming. Critically, I could not envision how long or how expensive this set-back would be.

I was feeling better when I got out on my bike. After I rode by the odd riverfront of Mt. Carmel, I stopped by a Little League game. I remember being really impressed by getting the baseball in the photo when I was at the Reds - Cardinals game back in Cincinnati. So I attempted to get the pitch on the way to the batter a couple of times in the Little League game. I took a few low-resolution shots from behind the plate and I attempted to get the lens through the chain-link fence. A batter waits for the pitch.

I believe it was important for me to see that the visit to the ER had been effective. I slept in, but I had to get out to get some food. I was a different person after my short recovery. But I planned to say another three days in bed and finish the doctor’s orders. After I made some photos at the ballgame, I went to the grocery store to pick up food I could make in the motel.

A favorite dinner that I liked to make in the tent was a side dish envelope of buttery noodles. I would make it in a single pot and add a tuna sized can of cooked chicken. From my time in ADAPT, I have developed a skill of hotel room cooking. When I was doing the ADAPT Action Report I would make hot dogs and Ramon Noodles with the in-room coffee maker. That was back before k-cups and single-serve pouches got rid of the small glass coffee pot. The next day after I made my dinner in the coffee pot, I would brag about the wonderful pork-flavored java I was drinking.

Having my stove in the room made it simple to cook vegetables and other things. I know I got other food so I could stay in and concentrate on my recovery.

A modular home, school bus used as a home, a boat and truck cover make up a riverfront settlement.

The odd settlement along the Wabash (photo 1)

A bus that is used as a home is parked in the grass and trees along the Mt. Carmel riverfront.

The odd settlement along the Wabash (photo 2)

Trailers are visible from the road where people live along the Mt. Carmel riverfront.

Chairs and other items are left where people obviously live on the river's edge.

Some of what I felt was an odd settlement along the Wabash River at Mt. Carmel Illinois. On the Riverfront, the lots all had trailers, modular homes or buses. The community seemed to be stuck back in the trees like it was attempting to hide.

I was looking to hide a campsite along the river, but the area seemed strange to me and there was no one around when I rode past. On the right is an area with seats and make-shift cover. There is obvious well-used parking but no one is around.

A boat and school bus altered to be living quarters sit on the edge of a river with a broken basketball backboard in mowed grass.

School Bus Home (photo)

From the third base dugout the young batter waits for the pitch.

Ball in mid-air (photo)

From the third base dugout, a young batter waits for the pitch.

Mt. Carmel baseball (photo)

June 12, 2002

Eighty years ago today, Anne Frank got her diary as a birthday present in Amsterdam. I am only looking back twenty years, but this seems like a great day to consider the value of a diary.

Although I intended to look back each day at my life on this bike trip, I have included so much more. As I am making this bike-memory trip, I can’t help but think that I would really like to relive the bike jornada I made thirty-years ago. In 1992, I was making a bike adventure. My first cross-country bike jornada in 1989 (I picked up the term “jornada” on this trip), I used a daily guidebook and I had my parents to support me each mile from Big Lake Texas to San Francisco. I loved that bike trip, but it failed to help me become independent and have a unique and exciting life’s story. Fiberglass Buffalo in a grass field.

I believe I accomplished that goal by my volunteer work in Alaska and the 1992 bike adventure. I have a real obsession to get in touch with the other volunteers on my Alaska crew. I have attempted to find them, but they are not the types that hang out on social media. I think I am pretty easy to find and I am depressed that no one on that crew has found me.

The photo on the right I made on my way to revisit the Wabash ER. I don’t have any idea what it was for. I searched Mt. Carmel for Bison and Buffalo (as well as “fiberglass Buffalo”) and got nothing in return. This is one mystery of life that I may never know.

That 1992 trip was certainly more of a pure bike adventure than this. While I did have a camera and I generally took one photo a day, my entire day was made up of cycling and camping. Climbing mountains and crossing US states and just pure travel for travel’s sake. Twenty years ago my bike adventure was mixed up a bit with the “Access Across America,” idea. I was not sure what I was doing, but there were days that I wrote articles and posted web pages about Independent Living and disability rights activism.

I have not included more of the 1992 ride here because I don’t know where my journal about that trip is. I know that when I find it. I will reproduce it with additional commentary along with the photos and I will add detail to a Google Map about the route and where the photos were made. This is a photo journal and retrospective on my 2002 bike trip and I have more to write about my life and feelings. It was a great year in my life and I like the idea of reliving many aspects of 2002. From a bike travel perspective, 1992 is a really terrific year and I find it hard to talk about cycling in 2002 without some reference to 1992. As you may be able to tell, I have a hard time telling you about my 2002 bike adventure without filling in many details about my whole life's experience.

Two people walk toward the entrance of the Wabash General Hospital.

Today I watched a program on the famous US Highway Route 66 with my father. The host showed photos of the Madonna of the Trail statues. There are two along Route 66 in California and Arizona. Aside from the two that I have photographed on my bike trips in Council Grove, Kansas in 1992 and Beallsville, Pennsylvania in 2002; the states are also in Maryland, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Colorado and New Mexico.

Twenty years ago today, the ER had asked me to return. I visited before noon and they looked at me again and saw the impact of the antibiotics. I was doing good and I kept up the routine. I did not tell them I planned to ride my bike about 20 miles south to the New Harmony State Park to meet my parents. I went out on my bike yesterday and felt pretty good, I was riding my bike to for the ER visit today. They encouraged me to rest for the next two days while I completed the antibiotics regimen, they said the dentist could not do anything until my infection was cleared up. I did clearly believe them, but I also knew that twenty miles on the bike was not going to be too strenuous. My plan was to take the rest of today and all day tomorrow to rest, relax and recuperate.

June 13, 2002

Man stands in coat with biking shorts by a sign that reads: LOVELAND PASS ELEVATION 11,990. CONTINENTAL DIVIDE ATLANTIC, PACIFIC

Twenty years ago today, I stayed in bed and took no photos. It was a day totally devoted to recovery. My plan was to check-out tomorrow morning and ride my bike an easy twenty miles south down the Wabash River, cross back into Indiana and meet my parents in the evening at the New Harmony State Park. My parents, who were leaving in the morning, should meet me at the state park in the afternoon. They were driving a thirty-seven foot RV that had become a summer home.

With no photos from my bike trip twenty years ago, I thought I would add some photos of my bike jornada thirty years ago.

First, the photo on the left is a photo of me, thirty years ago, at the Loveland Pass. I don’t know who I got to take the photo of me. I think you may be able to tell that there is some stormy weather around.

A couple of interesting things in this photo. One is that my bike is not in the frame. On this trip I managed to get my bike in most of the photos I took. Another thing to note is my turtleneck. Back in 1992, that was the only one I owned. I kept the jacket rolled up on the back of my bike and put it on when I got off the bike. Of course sometimes I rode with the jacket on, but much of the time I was wearing that parka shell and bike shorts.

Bicycle beside a lank with large mountains in the background.

Thirty Years ago my bike at a mountain lake (scan)

A bike is propped up in front of a distant mountain valley.

On the left is a good photo of my bike packed for climbing into the Rocky Mountains. Thirty years ago on my bike jornada, I rode a mountain bike with a custom paint job. I am using the same aero-bars on the front handlebars for my jornada in 2002.

I began the 2002 with the same rear panniers as you see in the photo on the left, but I got some lighter ones in Virginia. Note my tent poles under the seat. I also use my helmet to prop the bike up. I made many photos of this bike on the trip.

A pot simmers on a camp stove inside a tent.

On the right is a rare photo from inside my tent on my bike trip thirty years ago. I still use that stove that is right by the zipped door of my dome tent. That tent, which I named Zebulon, was a 3-man tent. It was just large enough for me. I was at the public park in Maybell Colorado and looking forward to a big meal, notice the cube steaks on the right.

June 14, 2002

Twenty years ago today, I headed south on my bike to meet my parents at the New Harmonie State Park in Harmony Indiana. My parents left that morning from Huntsville, Alabama. My dad had retired from the US Department of Defense and was volunteering with a group called “Church Builders,” who built churches. My mother was very involved in genealogy. They used the RV as a mobile base for dad to help build churches and mom to visit libraries to research family history.

Photo below: Me posing by the Illinois state line, I am actually leaving the state at this point. Bicyclist stands under a sign that reads: The people of Illinois welcome you.

New Harmony was about 20 miles south on the Wabash. I would cross the river there and ride another 5 or 10 miles south on the Indiana side to the state park. My parents had planned to meet my aunt and uncle, so they shifted that meeting to Memphis so they could deliver me to my dentist and still have time with family.

My first photo on my leisurely trip was of a daylily. I think it is a daylily, but I am not really that good with flower identification. I am pretty sure that back on the Blue Ridge Parkway I correctly identified the Lady Slippers, but that is because there was an interpretive sign on the parkway that helped me to identify those flowers. It was also the only time I have ever seen a Lady Slipper.

Before I crossed the river, I took a photo of me at the Illinois state line. I remembered that I did not get a photo back when I crossed the Cannonball Bridge near St. Francisville. Then on the other side of the river, I took another photo of me by the Indiana state line. The Indiana sign is exactly the same as the one back on US 50, twenty miles west of Cincinnati. I look different.

The bridge at New Harmony is now closed. In 2012, Illinois determined that it cost more to repair than it was worth. It was a narrow bridge and that is always poor for cycling, but it was an attractive structure. I believe it is still standing, but it does not show up on Google Maps. You can see it from the Google Street view or Satellite layer, that makes me think that it is still there.

Twenty years ago I took a photo of myself on each side of the bridge, before heading south to the State Park.

A green bog with dead tree trunks on the banks.

Photo Left. I took this photo on the east side of the Wabash River. I don’t know why. I also shot this in the 640 x 480 format.

Bicyclist stands under the Welcome to Indiana sign, Crossroads of America

Photo right. I got the sign, but I cut off the very top and my feet. I think I look a lot different than a week ago when I posed by a similar sign as I rode into Indiana from Cincinnati, Ohio.

It was a leisurely ride on this day. I did not stop anywhere, I was finishing up the food I had from my stay in Mt. Carmel, and I expected to eat with my parents that evening.

An orange Day Lilly

Flower in Illinois (photo)

A ivy covered barn with 2 silos under blue cloudy skies and a cut field.

More Indiana Countryside (photo)

This may not be a great photo, but it does look a lot better using the editing tools in Adobe Lightroom. In the original, the sky is very bright and you cannot make out the details of the clouds. The barn, because it is backlit, is nearly impossible to see the ivy growing up to the roof. If I didn’t make a good photo here, I certainly believe that I have created a much better photo than the original.

Two Cicadas on a mossy tree

I made it to the New Harmonie State Park before my parents. I believe in total, I had about thirty miles to go. After I crossed into Indiana, I rode through the town of New Harmony and then I rode about five or ten miles to the park.

New Harmony was the home of Thomas Say from 1826 until his death in 1834. Say is considered the Father of North American Entomology, the science and study of insects. Say’s Firefly became Indiana’s state insect in 2018.

New Harmony is the site of not just one, but two early American utopian communities. The Harmony Society, led by George Rapp, arrived in the United States in 1804 and settled in Pennsylvania before purchasing 20,000 acres on the Wabash River and moving to Indiana in 1814. The Harmonists were religious Separatists from Germany who pursued Christian perfection through every aspect of their daily conduct. They sold New Harmony to Robert Owen in 1825, and he, along with his business partner William Maclure, hoped to establish a model community where education and social equality would flourish.

Three cicadas cling to the mossy underside of a tree limb A lone Cicada clings to the moss of a tree limb.

With some time before my parents arrived at New Harmonie State Park, I took some photos of Cicadas that were all around the park. They were loud and pretty spooky to watch.

A Cicadas on mossy bark of a tree.

Cicadas have an exceptionally loud song, produced in most species by the rapid buckling and unbuckling of drumlike tymbals. They typically live in trees, feeding on watery sap from xylem tissue, and laying their eggs in a slit in the bark. One exclusively North American genus, Magicicada (the periodical cicadas), which spend most of their lives as underground nymphs, emerge in predictable intervals of 13 or 17 years, depending on the species and the location.

The annual cicadas are species that emerge every year. Though these cicadas' life cycles can vary from 1–9 or more years as underground nymphs, their emergence above ground as adults is not synchronized, so some members of each species appear every year.[2]

Cicadas have been featured in literature since the time of Homer's Iliad and as motifs in art from the Chinese Shang dynasty. They have also been used in myth and folklore as symbols of carefree living and immortality. Cicadas are eaten by humans in various parts of the world, including China, Myanmar, Malaysia, central Africa, and Pakistani Balochistan.

The long slope of an indoor ramp that goes up a floor. Woman faces away from the camera looking at a large ramp that goes well over her head.

Man with a camera walks through a modern building with large ramp overhead.

Of course I had to take photos of the massive ramp they had in the office of the New Harmonie State Park. I also had a chance to get my mom and dad in the photo. Mom is in the upper right hand photo and dad is below her.

I had a ramp program for a year in Memphis called RAMP IT UP! I was supposed to build ten ramps with the $30,000.00 they gave MCIL. I managed to build 35. I didn’t know how government money worked at the time.

Actually, the RAMP IT UP! program story is really good.

June 15, 2002

So I mislabeled the bicycle trip I took twenty years ago as “Access Across America.” I had changed it on the website to “Independent Living Across America,” which was more accurate. Early on, when I was in New Mexico, a publication had written an article on me and used the Access Across America title. Deborah had challenged me to write about Independent Living, but I had that mixed up with the concept of access. I also had the RAMP IT UP! program in Memphis and commonly used access as a synonym for what the Center did.

My confusion of the name did not seem to make a difference. I was not good at explaining what I was doing, so I don’t think it made too much difference if I was badly mangeling the philosophy of Independent Living, or misrepresenting access and inclusion. I could tell people that I built ramps for people who used wheelchairs. This was a simple concept that even I could get across.

But the story of my RAMP IT UP! program is also, like everything else, a little more complicated. I was able to build more ramps than they expected but at the same time, MCIL had sued the City of Memphis for not having curb ramps. Really, the lawsuit was about an ADA plan that would include curb ramps. Ramps were vital to our community, but the kind of ramps that I was building with the RAMP IT UP! program were wooden wheelchair ramps for homes built by volunteers. The two things get tangled up by the city and our little non-profit was threatened by the Memphis City Attorney who could hold up payment for the ramps that we did.

For months this was happening behind the scenes. There is a lot to the story, but as a final deliverable of the funds, the City of Memphis required a report. What follows are the final three paragraphs of my RAMP IT UP! report:

The final and most significant problem encountered by the RAMP It Up! project was the childish behavior of the City of Memphis Attorney's Office. In retaliation to an unrelated legal complaint Assistant City Attorney Sarah Hall threatened to deny payment to The Memphis Center for Independent Living if plaintiffs did not drop a justified legal complaint against the City of Memphis. Ms. Hall negligently and mistakenly identified the program coordinator as a plaintiff in the case.

Obviously the threat of Ms. Hall had no impact on the plaintiffs, however The Memphis Center for Independent Living did not get the contract for the RAMP It Up! project until October of this year. Without clear support from the City of Memphis, the RAMP It Up! program operated through these last months tentative and unsure.

Some things are made very clear by the RAMP It Up! program. First is the continuing need for pragmatic ways to overcome the discrimination faced by people with disabilities in our community. Second is the unyielding determination of The Memphis Center for Independent Living to secure the promises of the ADA despite the odds against them. Finally, the strength of the human spirit and kind outpouring of good nature in the volunteers that give of their time to build a better community for all of us.

River in the foreground and mid ground with trees visible on the near bank.

Along the river (photo)

Out of focus hummingbird hovers near a Dr. Pepper bottle feeder.

I took 10 photos of these hummingbirds at high resolution. Of course they are all out of focus. It would be many years before I would have the skill to capture a flying hummingbird. While I still would like to improve my skill, I have made little progress over the last five years because some of the photographers in the Memphis Camera Club are so good at these shots. I have a hard time motivating myself to try to get close to their level.

I feel that things may change this summer. I will be creating a bird sanctuary at my house (next to the butterfly garden), and a special area for bird photography just out my back window so I can shoot remotely, but also have an eye on the backyard and my camera.

Out of focus hummingbird hovers near a Dr. Pepper bottle feeder.

June 16, 2002

Twenty years ago today, I was traveling with my parents to Memphis, Tennessee. I had an appointment with my dentist scheduled for Monday, June 17, 2002. I believe I had completed the antibiotics and the appointment tomorrow would be the first assessment that I would have about how long I may be delayed from my bike trip, what this would cost and what I needed to do for recovery.

The photo above is of the maxivan my family got for our summer vacations. My mom is on the left with John Gibbons, Gary Thompson and me on the far right carrying stuff up to our room for the Georgetown University summer Debate Workshop. Notice the green shag carpet on the van door. Four people unload items from the side of a van.

The dentist was going to fill in a lot of what was going on. At the time, twenty years ago, I had to clear up the infection so that I could see the dentist. I had only had fillings at the dentist and did not know anything about bridges, root canals or crowns. Now that I am 58, I have two crowns, but I still have the fillings I got more than 40 years ago. I hope that I can go through my life without any further dental procedures. However, like in 2002, I do not know what lies ahead.

No bike mileage and no photos today. I have traveled a lot with my parents. When I was young, we had a trailer. As a family we would drive to a campground or state park in about a half day’s drive from our home for long weekends away. Often we would travel with friends and our favorite site was Davy Crockett State Park in Tennessee. When I told the story about being bitten by a snake, that was also a Tennessee State Park named Fall Creek Falls.

My family also took two week vacations in the summer. When I was young we often went to Florida, but we also vacationed at the Outer Banks in North Carolina, Texas, Arkansas and Kentucky. But our largest vacation with the most planning was along the east coast before and during the bicentennial. We got a new maxi-van to pull the trailer and give us all more space for the drive.

That van would become a part of the fleet that transported my High School Debate Team all over the country. My older sister also spent many hours in that van, she did mostly individual events at debate tournaments. We had several state and regional events, but when I was in High School I also traveled to Chicago, Philadelphia, New York, and Salt Lake City to compete. I did make great friends in debate and I got to travel all over the country.

I was driving my Debate Coach’s van returning from the northeast when we were pulled over by a local Tennessee police officer. My coach, Stan Erwin, had an expired tag. I was driving so I ended up getting the ticket. But that is not the whole story. It was late, after midnight and while the cop was talking to me the sleepy debaters slid open the passenger side door to get some fresh air in the van. A second officer walked around to that side and casually noticed a loaded gun on the floor.

I never knew that Mr. Erwin carried a gun, but I am not surprised. I also never noticed the gun was ever just lying on the floor. Now it was a different time; I can’t imagine a public school debate team traveling today like we did back then. You probably can’t imagine how having a loaded gun with a bunch of high school students was not seen as an issue. It wasn’t an issue for anyone, except me. I got two tickets. One for driving a vehicle with expired tag and the other for an unsecured weapon. Four men hold their arms up standing on a rock.

My dad called Stan Erwin “Eight ball.” I don’t know why, but he did not use it as a positive epithet. Mr. Erwin was not the type of coach that a parent wanted for their child, but I really believed that he was a great debate coach. I graduated high school forty years ago this year, in 1982. I used to tell people now that my debate coach also helped me to grow-up during high school, but now I don’t think that is true. As I have pointed out in this retrospective, I took the other cross-country bike adventures because I did not believe I had matured. I didn’t want to teach high school students when I felt more like them and didn’t have any solid life experience.

Below is a photo of Stan Erwin on the far right, John Gibbons, Gary Thompson, covered by my arm and me. As a right of passage, we would jump off this cliff into the cold water near Gatlinburg Tennessee.

One solid take-away from my high school debate experience is how well our team was coached. Mr. Erwin made his top teams a senior and underclassman. The result is that each year, the top team was made up of one student who had top team experience. That experience was passed down from year to year. I really benefited from this arrangement. Eric Senn, a senior, was my partner when I was a sophomore and John Gibbons, a senior, was my partner when I was a junior. When I was a senior, Gary Thompson was my partner and he was a lot better debater than I was.

I will also note that this process did not require our debate coach to do much. You learned from your partner and the team helped each other with preparation. For one semester in high school I was Mr. Erwin’s student assistant. The big advantage of this assignment was that the student assistant could often use the time to study and do homework. But Mr. Erwin had me grade papers, prepare class work and assignments. One of the skills that all debaters had was to make mimeographs and I made these for his classes.

Memory lane! If you don’t know what a mimeograph is, it is a poor person’s xerox. If you don’t know what a xerox is, well, I don’t hear people call a photocopy that anymore, but Xerox used to make a photocopy machine and people called it a xerox. They were around when I was in high school, but they were expensive. The debate team had a mimeograph machine that was hand-cranked and other, more modern machines were sitting around the school office. You had to make a mimeograph stencil that was like carbon-paper and put it backwards on the drum that would turn and pick up a blank sheet of paper to print out many copies of the stencil. The end result was always a blue ink and had a distinctive smell. Smiling man eats from a pot while sitting in a tent.

I believe what I am trying to say here, is how Mr. Erwin’s success was by delegating responsibility to others. Each year he had a debate team competing on a national level. I think that is because of the peer training system that he created at Grissom High School. What I don’t know is how he kept his job. I know there are other stories I could tell about my high school experience that would also make you feel that Stan Erwin should not be around children. But I was there and he was certainly different than any other teacher but I can’t help but feel that knowing Mr. Erwin was a positive experience for me.

That is some retrospective from forty years ago when I was in high school; thirty years ago while I was on my 1992 bike jornada and twenty years ago. I looked at my Facebook timeline and ten years ago, in 2012, I was at a training at the Obama for President office in Boulder.

Photo of me having dinner in my tent in Maybell Colorado in 1992. One of the reasons I took this bike trip was to develop some “hair on my chest.” I was worried about becoming a high school teacher when I believed l looked more like a student and had very little life experience. Do I look like I am 28 years old? Please note: I had not shaved in 28 years when this photo was taken.

June 17, 2002

Photo of man looking straight into the camera with thick glasses and greasy hair.

Twenty years ago today I was back in Memphis. I went to see my dentist and my aunt and uncle from Carthage Missouri camped with us in downtown Memphis. When I lived in Memphis, my parents began stopping by in their RV when they could. There was a campground just over the Arkansas, Tennessee Interstate 55 Bridge, also called “the old bridge.” The woman that ran the campground was from France, and she charmed my parents and they got along well. The campground is gone, but there still is a sign at the end of a gravel road that has a camper hoisted about 20 feet above the overgrowth below. I know where it is, but the trees around the area obscure it now. They tore down the building just to the west of the campground, so I believe there may be some renovation planned for that area.

But in 2002 it was my homebase for the dental work I needed. I visited my dentist and she made x-rays and gave me the low-down about what was going on. When I finished high school, I got the message that I did not have wisdom teeth. Now they may have told me that I didn’t have to worry about my wisdom teeth, I don’t really have any idea, but I understood that I had no wisdom teeth.

On the left is a photo of me on June 17, 2002. I am sitting in my parents RV parked in Memphis. My Aunt Barbara took this photo.

Below is a photo I took of my Aunt Barbara. Woman with gray hair and glasses looks at the camera.

I was wrong. What Dr. Parker told me was that I had four wisdom teeth. One was coming in at an angle and it had pushed into my rear molar and caused an abscess. The others were not as prominent. At 38 years old, it was unusual to have these third molars coming in. My wisdom teeth would have to come out.

The problem with the plan was timing. I was not in a hurry, but I would have to completely clear up the infection, meet with a dental surgeon that Dr. Parker would recommend and have the procedure and follow-up. I know I opted for the quickest timeline, but I also had a chance to talk about my plans with my parents and my aunt and uncle.

I don’t know the date of the procedure, but my follow-up appointment was on July 1. Over the next two weeks, I was Stuck Inside of Memphis with the Denver Blues Again. I stayed with my parents at the campground until I could see the dental surgeon and they went with me for the procedure. After that, I stayed at the Memphis Center for Independent Living office on Angelus Street. I had my bike and all my gear at the office and I made a bed on the floor. I showered at the RV place and the MCIL Executive Director’s apartment while she was at work. In all, it was just over two weeks that I spent in Memphis recovering.

I also worked at MCIL over this time. I did think of myself on “special assignment.” Over the next two weeks however, there are nine days with no photos at all. The other days I have some photos of work and Memphis. So I may get away from my twenty years ago, as a matter of fact, I will include more photos of my 1992 Bicycle Adventure and a memory each day from that trip.

An unused building with drive through cover and gravel parking

Photo to the left was the office of the RV park where my parents stayed. This photo was made in 2016. The door on the right with the green cover was where the laundry was, and under the drive-through cover was the campground office and small store. When it was open there were always people, trailers and motorhomes around.

Just around the corner from the drive through cover was a slab of concrete where dad and I, in 1998, replaced the clutch of my 1990 Honda Civic. We used the MCIL event tent and drove my car up on ramps for the weekend. The owner really loved my parents. I miss this campground and the convenient spot for my parents to visit.

June 18, 2002

Twenty years ago today I went into the office of MCIL to update the Executive Director about my special assignment. I also had my plan with the dentist and I updated her on my health also. I called the lawyers for the MCIL Fair Housing lawsuit, but they still had no update. I was going to be in Memphis for a couple of weeks, I thought I would get something done.

Deborah and I talked in her new office. She had started a new phase of learning voice controls on her computer and had added office space to our kitchen area. When I started at the MCIL, her office was a supply closet with bookshelves. It was long and thin and nothing like office space. Up front there was a reception area and administrative office, everyone else had a desk area along the walls, some space had a cubicle barrier, but no one was in a cubicle.

Deborah’s overall office design came from what she had read and heard of CIL offices in Berkeley and Denver. The staff were just haphazardly stuck in along the windowless cinderblock walls of a basement space. The idea was to be community friendly, but as I think back it seems as if the staff tried to hide in the open area. With computers, bookshelves and cubicle walls to conceal as much as each staff member could, I don’t think I would feel that the space was welcoming at all. There was also in the Center’s general office, a meeting room, a kitchen and an area to eat. Man with headphones

Deborah’s office was to give her some privacy for phone calls. She added her new office taking up most of the space for the eating area, but turned her old office into more storage. She had more space and she had privacy for phone calls and voice operations for her computer.

Deborah got a letter the week before with what the Memphis City Attorney said was the City of Memphis Americans with Disabilities Act Transition Plan. The City said we had fifteen days to comment. She was disappointed in the plan, but mostly, she thought the fifteen days were too short. She was glad that I was there at just the right time for this and wanted me to organize comments for the ADA plan. We talked more about the City, and she asked me to work more on the web.

I only took three photos on this day twenty years ago. One of Deborah, and two of a new employee who I would add to the staff page of the MCIL website. I did not make posed photos, I attempted to get candid shots of the staff at work. I still have a strong preference for candid shots. The real lesson I have learned is that when you take a photo of a person, you have to get their eyes. Unfortunately, I could not find the name for that employee. I don’t believe I ever saw him again, but I did put a little bio of him on the staff page years ago. I will keep my eyes open and maybe I will be able to add it in later.

Bald man works on a laptop computer with headphones

The Unknown MCIL employee (photo)

Candid profile of blonde woman at work

Deborah Cunningham (photo)

June 19, 2002

Woman with gray hair and round glasses smiles in profile

Twenty years ago, my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Warren headed back to their home in Carthage Missouri. I said goodbye to them and took some photos before they left. My mom and dad were High School sweethearts in Carthage where they are from. My mother had arranged with her younger sister Barbara to meet over this weekend. Because of my dental problems, my mom had engineered a change in everyone’s schedule and we all converged on Memphis.

The photo on the left is my Aunt Barbara at the RV campground in Memphis.

I still felt comfortable in Memphis. I had moved to the Bluff City in 1993 and worked at TGI Friday’s in Overton Square. Overton Square had more of a reputation as a social center for Memphis before I became a bartender, but it was still a great place to be in Memphis. I heard about the parties, the cocaine and wild nights at that restaurant, but the upstairs apartment was only used for storage when I worked there. The Square was on a decline, mostly because Mississippi had just opened Casinos an hour south in the small river town of Tunica. A lot of the disposable wealth and social entertainment went downriver. Many of the experienced service personnel and bartenders followed the money.

I started at the Memphis Center for Independent Living in April of 1996. I was a bartender at Friday’s and I made out the service schedule. I was hired to be a part-time librarian at MCIL, but I soon plunged into disability rights work. Looking back, I am really proud of the work I did for MCIL. I was replacing the person that produced the newsletter and kept a small lending library.

Man in t-shirt in profile beside an RV

I had experience working in libraries. I worked in the University of Alabama, Huntsville UAH Library in circulation. That is the bottom rung of the library ladder. At the University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, I curated the third basement government documents as my work-study job. I think Deborah was most impressed by my desire to do something and bartender credentials. I believe she envisioned I would really make that library a vibrant social commodity.

The photo on the right is my uncle Warren.

I re-catalogued and re-organized all of the material. It became pretty clear to me that the Lending Library was made up of the things that no one wanted to read, but they did not want to throw-out. I think she was hurt after I suggested that we keep some items and reference materials, but simply give away other items to people that may use them. We had no budget and there was nothing invested in the library. Mostly, MCIL had lent about a dozen items to about a half-dozen people. I pitched her the idea of creating a “hot file” that staff would pass around with items of interest and when staff had a chance to read them, they would go into the MCIL library to be given away.

There were some items that we would not give away. When I started at MCIL, Deborah had given me a copy of No Pity: People with Disabilities Forging a New Civil Rights Movement to read. I was impressed to see that it was signed by the author, Joseph Shipiro. MCIL also had a unique video library that the Center used for training. The copies of the periodicals The Disability Rag and Mouth, were also to be saved.

June 20, 2002

Woman with large round glasses smiles at the camera.

Photo on the right is my mother. This is a photo from yesterday as my aunt and uncle left, but I am including it today because I have no photos.

Again today I have no photos to go with my retrospective. I know that I worked on my response to the City of Memphis that Deborah and I had talked about a few days ago. Yesterday I told you about starting at MCIL and my first assignments. Working at MCIL was particularly gratifying, but I was only part-time. My main job, my main financial support was working at TGI Friday’s. As a matter of fact, it was because I was working at Friday’s that motivated me to work at MCIL.

I looked young and I doctored my Tennessee Drivers License to make it look like I was born in 1968 rather than 1963. They kept a photocopy of the license and I just used a pencil to take five years off my age. With all of the customers I busted for providing fake ID, it was odd that I used a fake ID also. Of course, my ID made me younger.

I think that age deception was because I felt insecure as a college graduate working at a restaurant. I also was not really looking for another job. Although I made out the service schedule for Friday’s, they liked that I would take management responsibility for a free meal. Occasionally they would ask about “moving up to management,” but I didn’t really see it as advancement. I didn’t want to work in a food service. The opportunity at MCIL gave me the best of both worlds. I could make money at the restaurant and I could feel like I was being a professional at MCIL.

Just by coincidence, MCIL was just a mile from Overton Square and even closer to where I lived in Midtown Memphis. I walked to my interview because my girlfriend at the time had exclusive use of my car. I stood in the front office and read the mission statement of MCIL as I waited for my interview. Reading that was my introduction to Independent Living. I met with the Program manager and briefly with the Executive Director. She gave me a writing assignment because part of my job would be to write and edit the MCIL Newsletter, The Declaration!

I had a close friend through highschool and college who had a disability. He had polio when he was young, just like the Executive Director of MCIL. She had asked me to write about my experience with disability. I wrote about 250 words about my experience with my friend. In the back of my mind was the mission of MCIL and the copy of The Declaration! that she had given me. I really knew nothing about Independent Living, but I was able to fake it enough to get the job.

I think MCIL hired the right person. I took to learning Independent Living quickly. I also had two of the best teachers, one was Deborah Cunningham, the Executive Director and the other was the new hire, just a month before I got the job. Her name is Dawn Russell. Dawn was not in the office the week I started because she was at the ADAPT Action in Houston Texas that week. My first ADAPT action was in Atlanta that Fall of 1996 and it changed my life. I was a devoted disability rights activist.

I had difficulty explaining to people what I was doing on this bike trip, I also had a terrible time telling my parents what I was doing with my life. The first hurdle was that I didn’t have a disability. I didn’t have a family member with a disability. I feel they had a hard time understanding why I would at all be motivated by disability rights without some direct connection to disability.

I was working at the time to clearly write about the discrimination faced by people with disabilities. I felt compelled to fight for disability rights and I was using the tools that MCIL and I had. While I feel that I was getting better and carving out a place for the ADAPT Action Report and MCIL Journal, I had no skill at communicating with my parents. I tried to tell them what I was working on and I would end up explaining the jargon and acronyms while never really explaining the general philosophy.

My parents saw Jerry Lewis as one of those non-disabled heroes. He didn’t have a disability, but he had this telethon to help kids with MS. But Jerry Lewis did not have MS, he drew a bright line between himself and those poor kids in need of help. Now I was caught up with a progressive part of the disability community that HATED Jerry Lewis. They saw his pity appeal as degrading and inhuman. He worked for a cure rather than accepting people with MS. People I knew wrote about being “Jerry’s Orphans.” Loved while they are young and cute, part of the telethon; yet , abandoned when they are older and need acceptance and equality.

I don’t know if I ever got across my position to my parents. I know they did not understand me and my motivation.

Now, twenty years later, it is much simpler to explain equality. Most people understand Independent Living and it is hard to imagine that things were very different just twenty years ago. Now, Tennessee spends about the same for nursing home care as we do for home and community based services and supports that keep people out of facilities. If you remember, I started this retrospective telling the story of two guys who left nursing homes in Memphis to live in their own homes in Denver. Back then there were no home programs and almost all the long term funds went to inexpensive institutions.

My parents listened and cared about me. I would love to hear from their perspective what they thought I did and why. It was easier to say that I was riding to help people with disabilities. That simple phrase was understandable. I was happy to be out on the road, on my bike. Honestly, I thought I would find something and it would make sense.

June 21, 2002

Woman with short hair, looks over her shoulder Blonde woman with round glasses and tie-dye shirt looks stoically at the camera.

Twenty years ago I only took 640x480 photos around the MCIL office. So go back in time with me twenty years to see what life was like at a Center for Independent Living.

Above left is Deborah Cunningham. Today I had her looking at the camera. My bike jornada is really her idea. Judy also supported me on my trip, but she found a way to pay me while I rode my bike around the US. She hired me as a part-time librarian and I made myself a full-time community organizer in five years. I am most proud of this time at MCIL.

On the right is Renee Ford. She was the heartbeat of MCIL and was an administrative assistant. Just a couple of months after I took this photo, she and Deborah Cunningham would block a bus to get the police, news and public transportation provider’s attention about an inaccessible bus that passed them up.

Woman smiles and looks at the camera. Man looks at the camera

Suzanne Colsey on the left. She married my friend Chris while I lived in Memphis. I mostly remember going into a Women’s Clothing store with her where the staff just refused to talk to her. They had no idea how to help if she might want to try something on. Actually, they just hid behind the counter and hoped she would go away. We ended up suing that store because it had a turnstyle at the door that prevented Suzanne getting in on her own.

On the right is XXXXXX XXXXXXX. He took up the newsletter when I left and was working on training people to ride the bus.

A crowded office environment where a man with white beard stands over a woman in a wheelchair. Woman with glasses

Above is Sandi Klink, the current Executive Director of the Memphis Center for Independent Living. Sandi and I worked together for about a year before I left on the bike jornada. Back in 2000, we made an epic voyage with Sher Stewart and Judy Neal to the Tenth Anniversary Celebration of the ADA in Washington DC.

On the right is Michael Heinrich, looking at something in Suzanne Colsey’s lap. Michael is one of my favorite people on the planet. He built the db that allowed me to organize thousands of photos for our Fair Housing lawsuit. Behind Suzanne in the multi-colored shirt is her husband, Chris. On the left frame is Josh who also helped me with a lawsuit against Family Dollar.

A room with walls covered in sound-proof materials and a 90s style computer on an adjustable desk.

Above are photos of the training room for speech to text software. The program can also control a computer with only audio input. You can use a mouse or keyboard also if you can but it is mainly designed for people who do not have the physical dexterity to use a mouse or keyboard. The soundproof room helps the software to learn an individual’s speech patterns.

Many people think software is the solution to problems, but this is an example where the program is good, but it is not magic. The program means that the individual has to learn a completely new input system. MCIL is one of the few places that helps people, at no cost to learn and try out such systems. Now the voice regognization is so good, you don’t need a sound-proof room.

A corner table with two 90s style computers. An adjustable table with a 1990s style computer on it. Shelves and a photo of the Seattle skyline are on the wall behind with CCTV to the left.

Above are two photos of the computer lab at MCIL. Much like the “drop-in” computer lab at the Tri-County Patriots Center for Independent Living in Washington Pennsylvania, MCIL had a computer lab. The Memphis lab had more support and I believe more accessibility. Above on the left you can see a couple of machines with a microphone and trackball for access. Above you can see the adjustable desk with a CCTV off to the left if you have low vision.

I cannot tell you why it is there, but behind the machine on the right you may be able to make out a photo of the Seattle skyline. I had that photo behind my desk and I left it at the office. Entropy just made it cling to the wall, I don’t know if anyone questioned why there was a Seattle skyline on the wall. It was also great to see the impact I had on the center in those first five years. You cannot see it here, but I left a locked file cabinet back in 2002. I got to open that cabinet and look through all my projects in 2015 when I returned.

June 22, 2002

Twenty years ago I have no photos for this retrospective. But I do have some content for my journal. While I was in Memphis, staying with my parents in their RV, Deborah had asked me to work on an issue for a couple of weeks. First I made a response to the City’s letter with a list of things that Deborah and I had talked about. I summed up the main problems in the MCIL journal article below:

The Memphis ADA Plan Fails Minimal Requirements.

By: Tim Wheat

The City of Memphis Americans with Disabilities Act Transition Plan does not meet the minimal requirements outlined in the federal civil rights law to protect citizens with disabilities from discrimination by local and city governments. The City of Memphis released an unsigned and undated draft of the ADA Transition Plan last week more than 3,800 days late and has given citizens 15 days to respond.

The printed copy supplied to Memphians for review does not include the list of obstacles or methods of achieving compliance but claims citizens may review these documents at City Hall. The Cities Attorney’s office; however, could not even produce half of promised documents when MCIL representatives made a request June 20th.

The fundamental failure of the City of Memphis ADA Transition Plan is that it does not include a schedule of changes to be made. Rather than providing a schedule the City of Memphis has made “estimates” of compliance based on a survey of less than 15% of the facilities that may require renovation.

“There is a significant difference between a schedule and an estimate,” said Deborah Cunningham, the Executive Director of The Memphis Center for Independent Living. “The federal law requires a schedule and people with disabilities demand a schedule.”

Ironically, a schedule of curb-ramp compliance is listed in Appendix D, but no similar commitment is made by the City of Memphis concerning public buildings.

“By not meeting the minimal requirements established in the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act,” said Deborah Cunningham; “the City of Memphis exposes itself to costly litigation.”

People with disabilities and advocates are finding further weaknesses in the City of Memphis ADA plan. For example, the grievance procedure that Memphis lays out has no appeals process, no review and no means for resolution.

“The grievance procedure is only a gossip-line,” said Robert Morris of MCIL. “Without an appeals process, citizens will be forced to sue the city to get even the most basic response to realistic accessibility complaints.”

Of particular concern is that the City of Memphis Transition Plan is not signed or dated. The fact that the document lacks these basic features has material impact on the content of the plan. The City of Memphis ADA Transition Plan states:

Public entities are obligated to remove physical obstacles which limit accessibility only when program changes cannot ensure access to services, programs, and activities in existing facilities.

This statement would be true if the plan had been produced on time; however, because the document is ten-years late, all of the effective dates of compliance with the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act have passed. The statement does not recognize the affirmative responsibility the City has to ensure that new construction is accessible. It is important that the City of Memphis realize that in 2002 they have more than the program accessibility requirement that the statement implies.

The plan furthermore fails to address obvious Memphis responsibilities such as the new Arena, AutoZone Park and the Center City Commission “facelift.” If the city has done a lot of work in compliance with the ADA, it is not evident by reading the plan. In fact, on June 20th, a week after the plans release, Mel Scheuerman an architect in the cities Engineering Division, claimed to know nothing about the publication of the ADA Transition Plan or the invitation for the public to view the site surveys at his office.

MCIL is asking the City of Memphis to:

Date and sign the document

Expand the Public comment period to 60 days

Provide a real schedule of compliance that includes the priorities and comments of Memphis citizens

Create a reasonable grievance procedure with an appeals process and review

Identify obstacles and give detailed compliance methods in the City of Memphis Transition Plan

Directly address the new Arena, AutoZone Park and the CCC “facelift.”

The City of Memphis ADA Transition plan can be obtained at www.cityofmemphis.org. Public comment should include your name and address and be submitted by Friday, June 28, 2002 to:

Robert L. J. Spence, Jr. City Attorney, ADA Coordinator 125 N. Main St. Room 314 Memphis, TN 38103

Citizens may also contact the Mayor’s Citizens Service Center Phone: (901) 576-6500 TDD: (901) 576-6501

June 23, 2002

Again today I have no photos from the bike trip twenty years ago. This was a Sunday back in 2002, and I do not recall what I was doing all day with my parents. My parents stayed with me in Memphis while I went to the dentist and then visited the oral surgeon to have my wisdom teeth out. I don’t know the timing of the visits, but I know that my final follow-up was on July 1. I think it is likely that tomorrow, twenty years ago, on a Monday would have been when my infection was clear and I had the dental procedure.

The thing I recall was an early meeting with the dental surgeon. It may have been days before the surgery, I remember him telling me that removing all four teeth will not make me a “dental cripple.” He was reassuring me that the large change in my mouth was not going to physically alter my actions. It was a strange use of terminology, but he made his point. I realized what was happening, but I guess I did not expect the impact could be so severe. Now, looking back, I worry about him cracking four teeth out of my upper and lower jaw. I knew a lot of people who had their wisdom teeth out, but at 38 years old it was a scary procedure.

I also notice the difference now. I used to talk more with my front teeth and move my mouth less. I still mumble a lot and I don’t move my lips much when I talk but it is a change of degrees. I also look a little different. My bite is a little further back and my jaw is recessed a tiny bit. I noticed it and it is one of the reasons why I have grown this poor goatee since this trip. If my silly facial hair has not hidden my underbite, it distracts people from my weak jawline. If only I could grow a beard like John Brown, I could take over Harper’s Ferry by myself. But instead I have the facial hair of Rasputin.

Next Page Photo: This is one of my favorite photos of me at Berthoud Pass in Colorado. I look relaxed at the top of the world on my great bike jornada thirty years ago. I do not have a hat yet for this part of the ride. I notice I have my jacket zipped up. I am sure it is still cool in the summer there at eleven thousand feet. It was a very tough climb, the real highlight was the descent on the western slope.

Berthoud Pass Colorado 1992 (photo)

Very dry and sandy high desert with bicycle dwarfed by a large sandy rock and the highway disappearing in the distance.

Western Colorado 1992 (photo)

The magnitude and distance that I crossed alone on my bike is amazing. I love to look back at this trip and feel how personally satisfying it was to be out and able to cross the Continent.

Welcome to Utah sign with a bicycle leaning on it with a butte in the background.

The Colorado Utah state line 1992 (photo)

Desolate high desert landscape with a bicycle loaded with camping gear on the side of a highway.

Eastern Utah 1992 (photo)

June 24, 2002

Twenty years ago I do not know if I had my wisdom teeth pulled today or if it was a two appointment affair. Whatever the schedule, I did not take any photos from Friday June 22, through Wednesday, June 26. I believe this was my recovery time, but I don’t have any memory of this stretch of my time in Memphis. I may have also had pain medication and additional antibiotics to keep me groggy during this time.

I have been augmenting this photo retrospective with some photos from thirty years ago and I believe I will continue that for today. On that 1992 trip, I crossed long expanses of desert, crossed the Continental Divide five times and rode from Alabama to Western Canada and back to Minnesota in about three months. I spent a week with my childhood friend Troy German in Bountiful Utah, but the rest of the trip I slept in my tent.

I hate to tell you that. I feel I am telling you I had a really great bicycle adventure, but this retrospective is about another one that is just not so great. I bet you feel like you are having your teeth pulled.

Now that I am looking back at my 2002 adventure, I can’t help but compare it to 1992. I didn’t want to just ride my bike overnight, I wanted to ride across the country. I still like the idea. My first cross country bike ride in 1989, the first night I spent on the road was the first time I had attempted bicycle camping. I didn’t even make a test ride or camp overnight to “shake down” the bike and equipment.

Photo on the left: Thirty years ago, me and my bike at the peak of the Salt River Pass at the Idaho - Wyoming border. That is a tin cup on the back of my bike that I used to heat hot chocolate in my tent.

On all three cross country bike rides I overloaded my bike. The first I mailed stuff home to my parents when I was just south of Tupelo Mississippi. On my second jornada I mailed home a box that I remember was thirty-five pounds. The same for the 2002 trip, but it was not that heavy. The overloading was so chronic however in 2002, that I broke spokes on my rear rim and eventually broke the rim in Ohio. On all three trips, I mailed a package of the overload in less than a week of starting out.

Photo right: This is the view from my campsite east of Afton Wyoming.

I also did no training. I know this confounded many people. I believe they have the idea of a marathon where you start and use all your energy and skill to finish as quickly as possible. I planned to get in shape along the way. To keep the analogy, I would start the marathon and get in better shape by the finish. I was fit enough to ride the bike and it is amazing just how fit you get after riding your bike across Kansas.

The analogy does not really apply. I was a runner during this time, and although I was not “in-shape,” I did exercise regularly. Actually, my first trip the real limiting factor was money. I wildly underestimated what I would spend along the way. There is no way I would have made it to California. I was thinking of ways I could stop and work along the way to try to stretch my finances when my parents showed up in Big Lake Texas to help me. They also had lots of food in the RV.

I did not think of getting fit. I did know that my motivation was important and that if I was not motivated to ride, I would stop and read. I would spend the afternoon at an old presidio, courthouse or small library. Some days I would ride until noon and stop and explore a small town. I was not in a hurry, and I rarely pushed myself. I also often got started early in the morning, there was a lot of daylight before noon and I could plan my stops and dinner casually in the afternoon. There were some days with really long rides, over 100 miles. They were rare, and often followed by short days, but I did not push myself.

I know this sounds haphazard, but the advantage of riding by myself was that I did not have expectations outside what I could do. On my first bike ride I had a guidebook from Texas to California. I was able to keep up the pace outlined in that book and I knew I could ride about 50 miles a day. That is an average, because now that I look at my mileage, it has always fluctuated. One day I would be able to get good mileage and the next, not so much. I think it was a function of my motivation wavering. It was just not very exciting to ride hard day after day. I know this is a complaint of riding with groups, because everyone wants to stop at different times for various lengths. I ran into several solo riders on my trip, a couple of duos and a tandem, but never a group.

These days that I am in bed and have no photos are my low point for this jornada. It is hard to imagine that except for the time I spent with my friend Troy, I did not take off a single day on my 1992 trip. I rode each day. I did not camp in the same spot for two nights. Even traveling through Yellowstone, I camped in a different spot (my cost was $2). I didn’t stay in a hotel, hostel or anyplace with a bed. That is very different than this trip. Twenty years ago I was recovering in bed for nearly a week. Thirty years ago that was just not part of the adventure.

Photo left: A look over my handlebars into the Salt River Valley. That is the road that snakes up the pass just beyond the tip of my aerobars.

In the center of my handlebars you can see my bike odometer that I used in 1992 and over the front right pannier you can see I have no food in my tupperware food box.

Just behind my seat, you can see the plastic bag that held my maps.

Imagine you are climbing the Salt River Pass.

The Snake River 1992 (photo)

June 25, 2002

Twenty years ago today I was recovering from my dental surgery in my parents RV in Memphis, Tennessee. I had to care for these “sockets” where my wisdom teeth had been removed. I remember one of the worst parts was the gauze that was in my mouth had a texture that I disliked. The dryness and nap of the gauze was similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. The gauze bandages did not cause any pain, they were just unsettling. I also seemed compelled to touch them with my tongue which again would trigger the revulsion to the gauze texture.

I also was in pain, it was a change physically. I had pain medication and I slept while mom and dad visited Memphis. My mother went to the new main library, which had been built on Poplar. In my last year in Memphis I saw the City demolish the Central Library on Peabody and build the new one on Poplar, but I had never visited the new public library. Mom’s reports of it were glowing and she always loved the genealogy departments and meeting people at the library.

Looking back thirty years from today, I cannot tell you where I was on that grand bike jornada, but I thought I would look at five of the photos from around Yellowstone. Judy and I visited Yellowstone about fifteen years ago. I have such a great love of that area. I rode from north to south and traveled nearly the entire distance around both loops of the park on my bike. I also met other cyclists at each of the campgrounds. It was a terrific experience.

_________________________________________

Photo next page: The Crowd at Old Faithful 1992. My photo of the geyser is not very remarkable, but the crowd was large in such a remote place. The guy in sunglasses that seems to be acting candid, is Mark. He is acting candid. We rode together on my first and second days in Yellowstone, exploring the south end of the park. We also camped in a communal bike area where we met a dozen other cyclists. As I rode around Yellowstone the biker’s gave me the nickname “Alabama.”

Photo two pages: Almost every photo I took has my bike in frame. This is the Virginia Cascade, a kind of waterfall that is truly spectacular. I cannot help but notice that my perspective and bike are really the only thing in the photo. I am sure there is a lesson here.

Photo three pages: The Lower Falls of the Yellowstone. This is such an iconic view. I am so glad that I took a photo, but my photo with the 110 disk camera is not not memorable or frame worthy. Why I like it is how it says I was there. And with this photo, I was able to say that I was there without getting my bike in the picture.

Photo four pages: The Iconic North Gate. Some cyclist’s from New Jersey had told me how to sneak into a private hot springs north of the park. I hid my bike and brushed by the front desk to an upstairs bathroom. I changed into my bathing suit and into the resort’s courtyard where the hot springs were funneled into a steamy pool. Ask me how I almost got caught.

A crowd of people in the bright sunlight and blue skies. One tall man in sunglasses looks away.

The Crowd at Old Faithful 1992 (photo)

Bike loaded with camping equipment leans on its helmet, A creek rushes past in the background.

Virginia Cascade 1992 (photo)

A huge waterfall is in the distance, trees and a canyon are in the foreground and mid-ground.

The Lower Falls 1992 (photo)

A large fieldstone gate across a small asphalt road.

The North Gate 1992 (photo)

June 26, 2002

This was my last recovery day. My parents were moving on to the next Church Builders site in Georgia. I believe that I was doing well. Without any documentation, the fact that my parents would leave me in Memphis, just after surgery, with no home or car is pretty amazing. Looking back I can see that is not typically what my parents would do, but it was their retirement summer and I was on my bike trip.

Twenty years ago it was a Wednesday and I had my follow-up appointment next Monday, July 1, 2002. During this time I would continue to work at MCIL and I would work on a plan to get back to my bike jornada. This break is so different than my bike adventure thirty years ago. I don’t know what I would have done if I had some health issue come up.

The only thing I can remember during that trip in 1992 was that I stopped at a gas station for water on a desolate road in Montana. I felt dizzy and weak. I had self-diagnosed it as heat exhaustion and was surprised that being from Alabama I would notice the heat in a state so far north as Montana. Now I guess it was also dehydration, but it was very debilitating. I got out of the sun and drank water. In the sliver of shade created by the east side of the store, I sat for over an hour before I felt like I could move on. If I had not stopped, I don’t know what would have happened down the road.

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Below are some photos from Montana from my Bike escapade in 1992.

Next Page: You actually cross into Montana in Yellowstone. This is the sign after leaving the park to let you know what state you are in. Montana lets you know that their Centennial was twelve years ago.

Two Pages ahead: I carried this solar bike odometer with me. The best part was the constant miles per hour read out, that I could change to view my pedal cadence to help me keep pace by myself. On my 2002 trip I had a GPS with me that would tell me my speed, but it used a lot of battery power when it was on. I ended up using it very rarely.

Three Pages ahead: Entering Glacier National Park you pass McDonald Falls.

Four Pages ahead: Lightroom really helps this photo show the sky and clouds. This is one of my best landscapes with this 110 disk camera. Of course there is no subject, but the shore, lake, mountains and sky may just be enough to give the photo some interest. Notice that this is one of the few photos without my bike in it. There actually are some people in frame on the far right. I do not know who they are.

A bike leans against a sign shaped like the state of Montana that says Welcome to Montana

Crossing into Montana on the north side of Yellowstone 1992 (photo)

Notice that I tie shoes and other items to the top of my front panniers in 1992 and in 2002.

A hand holds a small bike odometer that reads 3,000 miles

1992 My bike odometer (photo)

I was facing southeast back from where I had come 3,000 miles.

Waterfall along a medium stream

1992 McDonald Falls in Glacier National Park (photo)

Foreground rocky shore of a lake with huge mountains in the background and cloudy blue skies overhead.

1992 Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park (photo)

This seems to be one of my best landscape photos from the 1992 trip.

June 27, 2002

My new crash pad was the MCIL office. I managed to stay away from that office all day riding my bike around Memphis with a single pannier packed with books, notes and computer, but I did not take my camera with me. However, as I returned to the office at 6:30, thinking I would have the place to myself, I ran into the youth group at MCIL just finishing their meeting. I retrieved my camera from my stashed stuff and took two photos as I left the office. The group was meeting in the back and I did not bother them. Reserved parking sign with the symbol of universal access.

I also took a photo (right) of the RESERVED PARKING sign outside MCIL. One of the many projects that the staff at MCIL and I thought about but never started, was a campaign to end the popular HANDICAP PARKING signs that covered the city. The biggest response was “What is it supposed to say?” The answer is nothing. The ADA does not require text.

But out the front door, I spotted Sandi and her daughter. I was really just wasting time, but I struck-up a conversation and took some photos of Sandi’s flowers at her home across from MCIL. Eventually the meeting ended and I talked with all of the students as they left the Center. I took a photo of the bus that came to get some of the students and I took a photo of Pat Jessup, the instructor of the group that had worked at MCIL years before I started.

Pat had a great program but it was totally dependent on her. She was the organizer and central focus of the group. The parents trusted her with their children and the youngsters seemed to like the group. It was a weekly event that just took 90 minutes, but it had great staying power. My experience was that peer groups grew and collapsed in waves. When it was good, people would attend the group, but with more people came more problems and the success would collapse on itself. I know that happened to Pat Jessup’s group also, but she had a great talent for guiding the group to avoid complete collapse.

The groups that I coordinated when I left MCIL were Barrier Free Memphis and Memphis ADAPT. Both followed that rise and fall pattern and I believe I left both on the upswing. By the time I returned to MCIL in the summer of 2015, Barrier Free Memphis was gone and I could not save Memphis ADAPT. Although I love the group, with the turmoil in National ADAPT, I just let the organization pass away.

When I look back twenty years, I am proud of the organizations I built and what I did with MCIL. It seems that rebuilding that community is as difficult as taking on another cross-country bike jornada. I am highly motivated to relive and remember twenty years ago, I am not so enthusiastic about attempting to re-do my success of the past. To be honest, I don’t think I could do it, regardless of motivation. It is a really different world, a very different social environment and my tools are exceedingly outdated.

A desk in an open office. A disheveled desk with copier in the far right of the frame

On the left is the desk of Kevin Lofton. He was working at MCIL when I started. I took the photo of the desk because I thought that we may have a virtual tour of the Center on the web. This is another idea that was never developed. When I tell people what a Center for Independent Living looks like, it is the vision of MCIL, Atlantis and Tri-County Patriots that comes to mind. They all have a disheveled look. They also are mostly an open format where people with disabilities can roam around in a central open space.

On the right is the desk across from Kevin Lofton’s desk. Notice the Sher Stewart drawings on the wall. You may not be able to make them out, but I know them. The center is a line drawing of Justin Dart. MCIL has the framed original, but that is a photocopy. Sher used the copier more than anyone to replicate her pencil sketches. She made some of me. She also would make a pencil drawing at MCIL and use the copier to give everyone at the office their own bit of artwork.

An orange flower

A yellow flower

One of Sandi’s Flowers (photo)

Three rose blooms

Another of Sandi’s Flowers (photo)

Two women look down standing together

Sandi and her daughter (photo)

Young man smiles and makes a peace sign. Young man raising his right arm. Short bus with a green stripe. The driver waves out the window

Top Left Photo: The MATAplus bus is the Memphis paratransit vehicle. This was the main target of the Barrier Free Memphis group, while Memphis ADAPT aimed at the fixed route buses.

Top Right Photo: Alexander Mooney, a really terrific individual. His brother lives in my neighborhood Cooper-Young.

Photo on the Left: I don’t remember who this is. I will try to add the name later.

A young woman with restrained smile.

Member of The MCIL Youth Group (photo)

Woman with gray hair looks thoughtful.

Pat Jessup (photo)

June 28, 2002

Twenty years ago it was a Friday and I received some good news. The City of Memphis was honoring our request for an extended comment period for the ADA Transition Plan. Sometime while I was recovering, the City Attorney, Robert Spence had replied to my original letter from June 21 asking for an extended public comment period. My letter to the City Attorney was the basis of the first article I wrote about the issue and included the list of MCIL demands. In his reply to the request to extend the comment period, Robert Spence said that the City would not extend the public comment and made it seem that MCIL was what was delaying the ADA Transition Plan.

Robert Morris and I visited the City Attorney’s office to view the “Memphis ADA Transition Plan.” Robert had gone last week and the City had not been able to produce the document for him to inspect as the City Attorney’s letter directly said. I had read the whole document, the City put in online, but I was working with Robert and he had a different method. Remember, this was 2002 and it was not unusual for people to prefer documents that they could hold. The Letters that spell MEMPHIS in all caps with the skyline of the city in background.

Robert was one of those guys. He was okay with a computer, but the PC did not replace paper for him. I worked with a woman in Boulder who printed out her email. She stapled multiple pages and she filed them in folders in her office. I know it was not every email, but it was significant. I expect that once it was filed it was basically forgotten, but I have a hard time understanding this behavior. It is also not so unusual, I work with a person now who does the same thing. Working from home during the pandemic, I provided this employee a printer so they may devastate the forests. Again, I don’t know what the purpose of this behavior is, I assume they are more familiar with a paper file system and just conform their computer to fit the skills they have.

Robert Morris not being able to view the document had an additional impact on the City Attorney. Robert uses a power wheelchair. On this occasion, Robert used the paratransit system, MATAplus, to get downtown. Paratransit is an addition to the public transit system that is only for people who have barriers to the main bus system. Back in 2002, only about half of the fixed-route buses in Memphis had a lift or ramp for people who use wheelchairs.

Panorama of a city with many trees and low clouds.

Robert’s scheduled ride was in the afternoon and we implied that we would just hang out there at the City Attorney’s office the rest of the day. I cannot explain why, but that was a very powerful threat. They did not want us there even though the public was invited. Robert used the typical bus system and even trained MCIL customers on using the bus. Robert Morris had a way home, however the City Attorney’s office employees did not know that.

Robert Spence broke down and said he would extend the review period another two months. Robert Morris and I got a written statement from the City Attorney’s Office and we returned to MCIL to celebrate. This was exactly what Deborah had asked me to accomplish while I was in Memphis.

I wrote an article for the MCIL Journal about the news. I did not say that Robert and I had won the extension. Instead I wrote about having more than 200 signatures of support for the extended period. We really had the signatures, but the plan was for us to use that in a demonstration to the Mayor’s office next week the day before the original comment period deadline. We had all those names but we did not even think to confront the City Attorney with them yet. My story implies the people who signed our demands were the power behind the change; however, twenty years later I am telling you that Robert Spence was just embarrassed and annoyed by MCIL.

Below is the article I wrote for the MCIL Journal twenty years ago:

Memphis City Attorney Commits to an Extended Public Comment Period.

People with disabilities concerned about the thin time period to make comments on the plan that will guide Memphis for the next twenty years won an expanded public comment period today.

By: Tim Wheat

6/28/2002

(MEMPHIS) “We will have a second public comment period,” said Memphis City Attorney Robert Spence, “beginning sometime next week.”

People with disabilities collected more than 200 signatures of support for the extended public review of the Americans with Disabilities Act Transition Plan for Memphis. Robert Spence had written earlier that the city would not extend the time.

Bronze Statue of Johnny Cash, close-up on his face wearing an MCIL surgical mask.

The plan surveyed 55 public buildings to project the cost of compliance to more than 400 facilities owned by the City of Memphis. Although the plan states on page that the public may view these surveys at City Hall, less than half of those documents were made available to the public during the comment period.

“My first thought was that there has been incompetence and poor record keeping there in City Hall,” said Robert Morris who was not allowed to view all the surveys on June 20th and 28th. “It makes me think the whole public comment process was flawed.”

“It has taken the City more than 3,800 days to create the plan and they provided the public only 14 days to respond,” said Robert Morris of the Memphis Center for Independent Living. “More time to review the plan is only reasonable.”

Some of the possible problems in the plan that citizens have found so far include:
The grievance procedure has no appeal or review process.
The plan does not give details of compliance methods, a requirement of federal law.
The plan does not appear to include such obvious public venues such as the new Arena, AutoZone Park, and the recipients of the Center City Commission “facelift project.”
The City Schools are not covered in the plan.
The document is not signed or dated.

You may review the City of Memphis 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act Transition Plan as long as the city keeps it on their website.

A bronze statue of Johnny Cash with an MCIL surgical mask

Johnny Cash statue with MCIL mask (photo)

Like many businesses during the pandemic, MCIL had promotional masks made. I put the MCIL mask on the life-sized statue of Johnny Cash in my neighborhood. Cash first played at the church you can see behind him (not the yogurt shop to his left); Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Two.

Riverboat along a bluff with a building crane in the distance with cloudy blue skies

Downtown Memphis from Mud Island (photo)

If you haven’t noticed, I have no photos from twenty years ago. I did not take my camera downtown because I did not want to pass it through the security system and I was working on the article the rest of the day. I know now that I should have made some “victory photos” to help us to promote our success. The above photo is looking to the southeast from near the end of Mud Island. Mud Island is really a peninsula along the River in front of the north end of downtown. It is best known for the monorail that connects it and was in the movie The Firm.

June 29, 2002

Twenty years ago I enjoyed a Saturday in Memphis. I did not take any photos on this day. The Redbirds were playing out-of-town and I had the Memphis Center for Independent Living office all to myself as my apartment. While the office had a bathroom and microwave, there was no shower. I was still using the shower at the RV Park where my parents had camped last week. The ower really loved my parents and it was no trouble for me to shower there.

An old film disk camera

Back in 2002, I saw the camera as something to document my adventure. A Saturday at the office did not qualify for a photo. On my bike trip thirty years ago, I used the camera just about every day to document the trip similar to how I was using the camera on this bike jornada. I used a Kodak 4000 Disc Film camera in 1992. I have mistakenly called it a 110 camera, referring to the size of the film, but the disc film is actually smaller. Kodak was supposed to roll out a new and sharper development process, but most labs used the old equipment they were familiar with and the photo quality was weak. The disc film camera was gone from the market in less than 20 years.

There were some real advantages to the camera that helped me. First, the camera was very small. I am sure that was a big sales point for me planning a cross-country self-contained trip. Second, the discs were easy to load and unload, they were cheap, simple to store and I had no problem getting them and carrying one extra.

The main advantage, I did not see at the time, was that I could drop off the exposed disc just about anywhere and the prints were mailed to my parents. Back then you paid when you picked them up so my parents were on the hook for the photo costs. I really don’t know if I would have made fewer photos if I had to pay for them, but each disc was 15 shots and I believe the prints cost less than five dollars. This arrangement also motivated my parents to keep up with my trip, they were following it visually. However, I could not see the pictures and I had no feedback of the subjects and quality.

My father was an accomplished amature photographer at this time. He had two Olympus OM bodies and a variety of lenses. He made thousands of photos as I was growing up and printed them to slides for family and friends viewing. He certainly could see the poor quality of the prints, and he did help me with suggestions on my photography in general. But there was a significant lag time. I would send the photos to be processed and my parents would pick them up a week or two later. When we would talk on the phone, the photos they were looking at were 400 to a thousand miles behind me.

This final advantage also had a great effect. When I returned from the adventure, I was amazed by the photos. It was not because of the quality, I didn’t have any real experience with that. My amazement was how the photos fit in my memory and made my feelings more vivid and tangible. I instantly had a love of the pictures and I made a photo album with an accompanying map. The photos didn’t tell the whole story, but I believe they were my visual guide.

The back of a Digital Camera with mini CD

While I had a great love for the prints, the people I showed the photos noted the quality. The Yellowstone landscapes, geysers, Colorado mountains and Glacier National park were nothing like the National Geographic shots of the same scene. I know that is an unrealistic comparison, but my photos were saying to me: “I was there,” a message lost on anyone I would show them to. Anyone who would look at my album couldn’t help but laugh at my lack of subjects and my many photos of my bike. I even wrote in my album, “..every turn is another postcard view.” I am sure that I was seeing postcards while my audience was viewing daguerreotypes.

Between 1992 and 2002 my idea of photography was mostly impacted by Judy Neal. I was going to work with the Memphis Area Legal Services on a Fair Housing grant they received. The details of the grant were broad and Judy included a digital camera in the equipment request we made as a sub-recipient. The rationale was that MCIL would photograph barriers.

MCIL purchased a first-generation SONY Mavica that wrote info to a 3.5 inch floppy drive. Back then, the capacity of that floppy drive was 1.4 megabytes and the highest quality photo was the 640 x 480 format. The lens was in the top left of the camera body, it was a strange looking device.

The way this contraption impacted my photography was that I had to take photos that would show some physical barrier at an apartment complex. I had to learn to alter my perspective so that the end result would show what I saw. In bright sunlight a step can appear as a dark area on a walk and a slope needs to have something level or square to contrast it with. Without getting the Mavica out of AUTO mode, I learned to get the sun behind me to light the subject. I would change my perspective to allow the photo to best show the barrier. With the digital camera you get some immediate feedback and I learned to use the camera modes to get better results.

For this project I took over 17,000 photos. It doesn't sound like much today; I have more than that on my Flickr.com account, but over a year and a half I shot, collected and organized these photos. At some apartment complexes I took over 850 photos. That is 50 or 60 floppy drives to organize. The final report included about 400 photos. That is a use rate of about .02%. Because I reused floppy disks, I did not save the originals and photos that did not get in the database for the project were lost. I guarantee you that there were a lot of bad photos. What I considered to be a good photo was one that would show the intended barrier. Many of the photos just showed where the barrier was, like the width of an access aisle. I would photograph the painted aisle with some identifying landmarks. Front side of a Digital Camera with mini CD

The best photo I made was used in the prologue, the explanation of the survey. It is the entrance of a housing unit that shows the access symbol painted on the asphalt with a ramp up from the parking to the left of the frame. That ramp leads to steps in the center of the frame with a small childs pink and blue bike leaning on the steps. You may see the Rental Housing Accessibility Survey at: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XRsoUgxIzRB6ocxAPl2mPi9EtMs7KUlM/view?usp=sharing

I used up that Mavica. The camera I purchased for myself, specifically to make the 2002 jornada was the SONY CDMavica. It wrote data to a mini CD, which is a Compact Disk that is 3 inches in diameter. It would hold a huge amount of data compared to the floppy drive Mavica. One hundred and fifty six megabytes. This was a big issue for me, I did not want to have to carry 500 floppy disks with me on my bike. I did not have any equipment that used Compact Flash cards or Secure Digital (SD) cards, that most cameras use today. I saw the CDMavica as technologically futuristic and perfect for me.

The CDMavica also had 3.3 mega pixels resolution, about nine times the resolution of the floppy Mavica. I still had this bias for 640x480 photos because I felt that was the standard “web resolution.” I mostly saw my photos as something to display on the web, so no reason to go beyond the caliber that I needed for the Internet. I have talked about this before and that bias I had is something I deeply regret.

That CDMavica also has a Carl Zeiss, Vario-Sonnar lens. Of course now that is something I like, but back in 2002 I did not know who Carl Zeiss was. The lens is an f2 with 34mm to 102mm, or three times zoom. I didn’t even think about making prints. The photos from this camera would be stored on a computer. They made “Read - Write Discs” for this camera. I used the less expensive “Read Only” or CD-Rs that gave me a natural back-up of the pictures I made.

June 30, 2002

Back in 2002 my favorite place to eat in Memphis was Heuy’s. It still is. Now there are nine locations around Memphis. I had lived in Memphis since Fall of 1993 and in 2002 I packed everything I owned into my 1990 Honda Civic and drove to Denver. I left my car and all my belongings with Judy but I was not settling down. As I look back now, I clearly left Memphis. As I retell my life’s story, it seems like a very round-about way to move to Denver and live with Judy. Is this entire Bike Jornada really just personal insecurity about making a life decision?

I still had many connections in Memphis, but I was not planning on returning. I wrote earlier when I left Cincinnati that I had chosen a southern route to pass south of Saint Louis and head to Carthage Missouri in the southwest corner of the state. My southern route, however, did not include Memphis where I clearly had attachments and places to stay. I think that generally, I was attempting to break connections on my bike caper, not retain them. Red four-door Honda Civic.

Returning to Memphis became a way for me to keep control of my trip without depending on someone else. I gave up some authority to my parents and I am really thankful for their help. But I did not return to Huntsville and go to their dentist, which I am sure they would have been happy to engineer and cover the cost. I would have stayed with them and resumed when I recovered. I still had enough of a foundation in Memphis to pretend it was my home and that returning to the Bluff City was what I needed to solve my health problem.

Between Judy and my parents was Memphis. So for about a half a month I was a Memphian again. I have never been a good Memphian, but I have done many of the touristy things around town.

In 2002 my favorite barbeque place was The Barbeque Shop, home of the dancing pigs. The Barbeque Shop is still on Madison. Now however, my favorite barbeque is Central BBQ.

I started working at the TGI Friday’s in Memphis in November of 1993. It was in Overton Square and I knew the places to go very well. My favorite hang-outs on the Square were the Bayou, Memphis Pizza Café and Bogie’s. They are all still there; however, Bayou has moved across the street. Friday’s is gone, it is now a Mediterranean place.

When I moved to Memphis I lived at the Alpine on Madison and in 1997 I moved to the Gilmore, a half-block away. Both of these apartments were within walking distance of Friday’s. I could also walk to MCIL, but in April of 1997 I bought a car, my beloved Red, 1990 Honda Civic. I usually drove to work at MCIL. Red, black, and white Honda is towed by a UHaul truck.

That stretch of Madison Avenue from Angelus Street, where the MCIL office was, east to Overton Square is a central part of my life. I have walked it many times and know the shops, stores and apartments along the route. I notice the changes and I feel nostalgic about each palace, even if I did not spend much time.

The semi-famous Ardent Records is on that fragment of road, near to Overton Square. My bank, that gave me the loan to buy my Honda is on that road. The dairy is still there, but the neighbors don’t like the refrigerated trucks running at night. There was a head-shop and it has expanded, now it is named Wizards. Huey’s is there. When I first walked to work at Friday’s, there was a restaurant named the Chicago Pizza Café. It went out of business before I could ever eat there. When I left Memphis for my bike jornada, there were still jars of parmesan cheese on the tables inside. Now it is a shellfish restaurant.

I haven’t been to Graceland since the 1990s. I have been to the Graceland vigil on August 16 several times. The last time I went was 2019 with the Camera Club. Here in Memphis, the time around August 16 is called “Dead Week,” because of Elvis in 1977. The vigil at Graceland is when they allow everyone to file through the grounds and pass by Memory Garden where a few of the Presleys are buried. In the past it was the highlight of dead week.

Jay, my friend at Friday’s, took me to the vigil the first time I went and he showed me the best parts. Probably 1994 or 1995 Jay and I went after midnight and spent much of the time out on Presley Boulevard. Once people had walked past the grave, they sat out in the street and made wax artwork with discarded candles. The crowd was listening to music and just lingering in the humid night air unable to break the connection with The King.

When I returned to live in MemphisI visited Graceland at 2:AM in 2015. I made a quick visit to Memory Gardens and spent a little time out in the street in front of the mansion. In 2016 and 2017 I went with Sher Stewart. We skipped Memory Gardens and hung-out front. 2018 and 2019 I went with a crew from Memphis Camera Club to take photos of the circus that had developed. We went early, when most people were out there. But 2018 is the year that they began to charge to walk out to Memory Garden and it is a very different experience.

I do like the National Civil Rights Museum, the old Lorane Motel downtown. It has a mix of art and interpertives and always a video documentary. I go to meetings often in the community room that deal with disability rights. I was on one committee with the Reverend Samuel Kyles who was on the balcony when Dr. King was shot. The down side of the NCRM is that there are often a lot of school kids.

A banner that says: "Where in the world is . . . Tim Wheat?" with a cyclist, road sign and man spinning a globe; A US map is below the banner.

There is only one photo from today. It was made inside the MCIL office. The staff made a banner that says: “Where in the world is … Tim Wheat?” There is an image of a guy holding a globe, a cyclist and an Interstate sign. I took a photo of it. I suppose that they were going to track me on the US map below the banner, but it is just a map. I can imagine how it came about. Deborah said the Center should do something and a lot of people threw in their ideas. Radio shows, llamas and free food are all things they may have suggested. I don’t know, I wasn’t there.

In the end, Renee printed the banner and put the US map on the wall. You could count on Renee.

July 1, 2002

I have no photos from twenty years ago today. I did have my final follow-up with the dentist. It was a Monday and I did get the dental go-ahead to continue my bike trip. I had to take my bike to the dentist’s office and after my appointment, I was completely unprepared to get back on the road. I decided to rent a car, and because of the holiday, I couldn’t get a “one-way” rental until Wednesday. Woman is a colorful top and son wearing a fishing vest.

I had flirted with the idea of heading out on my bike. Justin Dart had died on June 22, his memorial would be on the anniversary of the signing of the ADA, July 26, in Washington DC. I could just turn around and head back east, back up the Blue Ridge Parkway to the Capitol. Obviously, I was not inspired to do that again.

Heading west, I could still visit Carthage and my extended family. I had never ridden through the Ozarks and heading out of Memphis would put them in my path. There were looming disadvantages, however, that made me look into alternatives. The first was the plains. The thought of crossing Kansas like I had in 1990 was not motivating me to get back on the road. I was definitely headed west, but I planned another “jump ahead,” like I had done from Austin to Asheville.

I also felt behind. As if I should have put in a thousand miles instead of getting my teeth fixed. July was by my general timeline, when I would be avoiding the heat by cycling through the rocky mountains and not facing the summer heat in the dry plains of Kansas. To be honest, my confidence was low. I was getting some good mileage days in and suddenly I was totally out of action. I worried what other unforeseen problems may take me out of action. I worried I had the wrong bike, I was going to destroy the rims and I was not in shape. While I had the go-ahead from the dentist, I still had pain in my jaw and I had to be careful about the scars called sockets. I made an unstated decision that I did need more recovery. So I rented a car.

Photo Above: me and mom sometime in 2000.

I have four photos of myself to add to this reflection. They are not from 2002, but around this time.

Son wears a fishing vest, father has glasses clipped to his t-shirt.

Dad and I (photo)

I believe this photo is from about 2000. It was made in the front yard of my parents' home.

Two men sit at a table, one with a paper plate of food, the other looks at the camera.

Uncle Warren (photo)

You may recall my Uncle Warren from a photo back on June 19. I am sorry to say that My Uncle Warren died yesterday in the current timeline (June 30, 2022). This is really a retrospective, but it touches my life thirty years ago, twenty years ago and today. This is a photo from 2001.

Girl raises both her hands behind three siblings in a posed photo.

This is an odd photo. Not because Jessica is signaling a touchdown, but because it was not taken by my father. You may be able to make him out just under the light in the top right of the frame.

Jessica is my niece. She is Amy’s daughter, Amy is to my right. She was born two years after me. My other sister on the far left of the photo. Janice is six years older.

This photo is the home that my family moved into in June of 1970, the year I started school at Mt. Gap Elementary. My sisters and I all went to Virgil Ivan “Gus” Grissom High School. Janice graduated in 1976, I graduated in 1982 and Amy the next year in 1983.

This year of my retrospective, my parents play an important role. First they take me to Asheville and then to Memphis. I didn’t mean to leave my sisters out of this and I know they followed my adventure, but I did not end up with a photo of them.

Sometime after my trip, Janice and her husband Herb Henderson got a SONY Camera that was the next generation of my CD Mavica.

July 2, 2002

A neutral colored moth lights on a colorful flower with green background

At some point I changed my perspective from making useful photos into making good photos. Not that I could make good photos, I just felt like I knew what a good photo was and that is what I was attempting to do. I believe on my 1992 bike jornada I was making useful photos - I wanted to remember the trip. In 2002 I don’t know if I had made the change, I may have had mixed objectives; I was attempting to make both useful and good photos.

Photo Above: butterflies on flowers at the Bettis Family Cemetery. Back then it was in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly. Photo Below: I was trying to capture a bolt of lightning, I failed.

One clear difference was that in 1992 I had no feedback on my photos. I put my bike in almost every shot to say that I was there and I feel my objective was to show the landscapes that I saw. I was not attempting to make photos better, I was glad that they existed. Twenty years ago I did have feedback on my photos and I did feel that I was taking good photos. At the same time, I was taking photos I realized had no life beyond the web. I think that the collection of low-resolution photos also tends to show that I did intend to have some good photos, those that I took at the higher resolution.

I also did minimal editing. Mainly I did not crop any of the photos. In 1992 I didn’t crop because the output was printed photographs. Often my subject was the horizon and it made for poorly composed photos. In 2002 the aspect I intended for display on the web was 3:2, so I did not alter that at all. This was also a practice from my Fair Housing project. Because the photos were a type of documentation, I did not believe it was ethical for me to alter the photos. To sometimes “show” the Fair Housing barrier I took several photos from different angles and at various distances to ensure the photo demonstrated the problem I wished to convey. But I would not directly “edit” the photos to avoid the charge that they were doctored or as we would say today “photoshopped.”

This retrospective will include all the photos, good and bad, that I made on this bike jornada. There are some exceptions. First, there are several duplicates of lower-quality that I have left out. If the low-quality photo does not have a higher-quality twin, I have left it in. Additionally there are some photos that are so bad, I can only call them mistakes. You may feel the entire collection fits in that category, but I have left the mistakes in if you can make out some subject. As you certainly know by now, I have pretty low standards.

Dark blue cloudy sky

That said, I have some photos from twenty years ago today. They are all bad. I took four photos to be exact, and I am going to leave one out because it is bad and a duplicate.

A neutral colored moth lights on a colorful flower with green background

Moth (photo)

I was doing better with my macro photography, but this is the only reasonable photo I took on July 2.

July 3, 2002

Over the past few days I have not been doing much and I have not been anywhere, but today that changed. I picked up my rental car at 9 and of course it took them more than forty-five minutes to get me off their lot. Remember it is 2002, no smartphones and I did not have an express account. One-way rentals take longer and I also had to take my bike apart to fit it in the car. Woman using a wheelchair smiles at the camera

I went back to the Memphis Center for Independent Living to pack all my gear. MCIL was having a barbeque that day in the parking lot, and the staff was already getting ready for the event. I took photos of many of the staff and I headed out for Carthage Missouri. I had scaled back my visit to just seeing my Grandmother Wheat, she was 95 years old and living by herself in Joplin Missouri nearer to my uncle.

I didn’t have a timetable, but I was hurried by my rental car reservation. I take those things so seriously. The rental place in Denver will be closed on the holiday, so I had to return the car before they opened the store on July 5. However, I obviously made good time. I didn’t get on the road until 10:AM and I made it to see my grandmother by dinnertime.

I felt my grandmother was a very stoic person. She was born in 1907 and had a college education when women did not often go to college. It was a very gender-specific curriculum however. My grandfather did not have any college. I have a great wedding photo of them that I was able to colorize using Lightroom. The best photo however, is a photo of my grandmother when she was about six years old.

We had a great visit. Because it was dinnertime, she insisted on feeding me. All she had was a can of Campbell’s soup, but I loved it. I did get a photo of her, and I took a photo of the picture of my grandfather she had sitting on her table. My grandfather died in 1986. I am so happy I stopped and got that photo. I also took two photos of us together. I cut off the top of my head in one. I did not have a tripod and I was using her table to hold the camera. No one but me has ever seen these photos until now.

Photo Above: Suzanne Colsey and I worked on some ADA issues together. We sued Fashion Cents, a women’s clothing store because they had a turnstyle as the only way to get in.

Woman smiles and squints in the bright sunlight. Another woman behind her uses a wheelchair

Sandi Klink (photo)

Sandi is my boss now, back in 2002 she was organizing the staff to hold a barbeque that afternoon before the July 4 Independence Day. Behind her is the door to the MCIL office on Angelus, and of course Suzanne Colsey.

People talking to each other in an office setting. Woman smiles at the camera.

White haired man with long white beard smiles at the camera. Man in a wheelchair and woman wearing glasses look toward one another.

The real purpose and passion came from Deborah, but everyone at MCIL really created a wonderful environment.

Older woman with white hair and younger red-haired man smile at the camera.

My Grandmother and I (photo)

Older woman with white hair and younger red-haired man smile at the camera.

My Grandmother (photo)

Photo frame of a man in a suit on a table.

Picture of my grandfather (photo)

I took a photo of my grandmother’s framed picture of him that she kept in the front room. The apartment was small, but she has a real “make-do” attitude that I suppose comes from the depression era. The pin on my grandfather's lapel are his Sunday School attendance ribbons. There were so many they hung down to his waist.

Old woman with white hair looks at a can of soup

My grandmother makes me dinner (photo)

Narrow three story building Young girl in a photo from the 1910s

Old woman with white hair smiles at the camera.

My grandmother Myrtle King Wheat (photo)

Independence Day, July 4, 2002

Light brown brick Cathedral against a blue sky

After I left my grandmother’s apartment, I drove to Wichita, Kansas and north to Interstate 70. My procedure was to drive and if I got sleepy behind the wheel, I would just pull over and sleep. Sometimes I would pull over, not be able to sleep; drive for ten more minutes and pull over again. I may not get to sleep again, but at some point I am able to get some good sleep on the road without driving while I am tired. It does not seem too efficient, but this system has worked for me. At most I would sleep for an hour and drive for an hour. After a while, I feel rested and awake.

Photo Right: The Cathedral of the Plains, Victoria Kansas

From the Missouri line to just east of Hays Kansas I drove and slept on and off. My first photos from today, twenty years ago, were of a church in Victoria Kansas called the Cathedral of the Plains. It is the Saint Fidelis Church and I slept in the parking lot. When I woke up, I took some photos of the church. The twin spires of this church are visible from the far off Interstate and they are a memorable landmark.

There is this mystical force that people in ADAPT know about. It is ADAPT Time. Sometimes it is being at the right place at the right time, like back in May when our protests got ADAPT in a dialogue with the person who would later be the head of Medicaid Services. Sometimes, ADAPT Time is like when ADAPT was at the National Governors Association in Seattle Washington and just as the police are about to start mass arrests, Governor Rendell of Pennsylvania joins us in the streets and announces that he will introduce the ADAPT Resolution.

But ADAPT Time is also a principle. Also called the “ADAPT Gods.” Often people will banter with ADAPT activists during a demonstration, they will say that it is the wrong time, that ADAPT’s tactics are not helpful and that we should do something else. But ADAPT activists can hang onto the idea of ADAPT Time. The time is now, ADAPT is here and this is the time to act. It is like saying collectively: “You may do things your way, at some other time and with some different tactics, but that is not the current situation.” woman with 2 young boys.

ADAPT has been in this situation so many times. There are a lot of people who are sympathetic to our goals and yet they oppose ADAPT’s tactics or are annoyed by them. I cannot say we changed people’s minds, even those supportive of ADAPT’s objectives, but the principle kept activists focused and not going off on tangents of “what would be better.” When things worked out, often it seemed like ADAPT would have success in the nick of time, and this would reinforce to ADAPT activists the metaphysical belief in ADAPT Time.

The reason I try to explain the ADAPT Gods, is to also explain why I ended up in Denver on July 4, 2002, twenty years ago today. Of course I spent some time with Judy, but I also saw Dawn Russel on this holiday. She told me about an action that she had been planning and Colorado ADAPT was going to begin on July 5. So there I was in Denver, ready the help out with the ADAPT Action that was to begin the next day. My assignment: media and web.

Photo Above: Dawn Russell with her step-sons, Parker and Patch. Dawn had planned a non-violent direct action protest at the state Medicaid office and would end up spending the next two weeks sleeping out on the street in front of the state office (except for a trip to Boise Idaho).

Light brown brick Cathedral against a blue sky

The Cathedral of the Plains (photo)

Light brown brick Cathedral against a blue sky

The St Fidelis Church (photo)

Two small boys and a woman using a wheelchair play together.

Cameron, Andrew and Dawn (photo)

July 5, 2002

Man wearing a Colorado Rockies hat has a goatee and looks off frame.

Twenty years ago today I paused my “Access Across America” bike ride to be part of the Colorado ADAPT vigil at the State Medicaid office. The pause really started back when I went to the ER in Mount Carmel, Illinois. I had been in Colorado less than a day and began planning to stay in Denver and help out with the vigil, which was an overnight camp on the sidewalk in front of the State Human Services Building.

I was staying with Judy in Littleton, I did not know how long the vigil would last, but I saw my role as media, support and documentation. Even though camping out was a talent of mine, I did not make plans to drag my sleeping bag downtown. Judy was the Executive Director of the Denver Center for Independent Living (DCIL), so she could spend time at the event during work.

The ADAPT Vigil began with a rally in the afternoon. I had to catch up with what was going on in Colorado and what the activists were asking. Dawn was at the center of things and the preparation of the vigil. I guess she realized that there was no way the state officials would agree to their demands. They wanted to create some street theater so I don’t think the activists went into the negotiations that day expecting to get everything they wanted. Honestly, I don’t know if Dawn was planning to potentially stay all summer.

Photo right: David Hays. From Marks Mississippi David was Dawn’s partner since I met her. I am sure that he did not like me, but he was always kind. He died in 2015 after I moved back to Memphis. It was a very hard time on Dawn.

There were a lot of groups in the planning of the vigil and I knew quite a few people at the rally. Now twenty years later, I see people that would be very important in my life who I met at this rally.

People, many in wheelchairs loiter on a wide city sidewalk in the shade.

Rally to start the ADAPT Vigil (photo)

Woman holds many pages of green paper. Woman with short hair and glasses looks out of frame. Man with mustache smiles and stares out of frame. Man in a blazer smiles.

Thin woman in yellow shirt talks with a woman holding a white cane.

Previous page top left: Gil

Previous page top right: Carlyon Finel. July 5 is the anniversary of the “Gang of 19” protest in Denver. It was a nonviolent direct action to get lifts on buses. Nineteen people who used wheelchairs blocked two City buses at Colfax and Broadway (about two blocks away) in 1978. They stayed in the street overnight and ADAPT was formed to use that same style of direct action in other US cities.

Previous page bottom left: This is Rollie Heath. He was a consistent candidate for governor of Colorado while I lived there. He lives in Boulder and I got to know his wife, Josie well. She led the Hillary Primary Campaign in Boulder in 2008.

Previous page bottom right: I do not know this woman’s name, but in 1996 crowded in a hallway during a protest in Atlanta Georgia she explained to me why non-disabled people should not be part of ADAPT. Of course, ADAPT is a very welcoming organization, they even let me be a member.

Photo left: Babs and Judy talk before the rally outside the state Human Services building. Notice the yellow t-shirts that say “The Battle of HCPF.” My memory is that the overnight vigil was spontaneous, but the planning does not make it seem that way.

Man in ball cap speaks into two microphones. Man in cap speaks into two microphones with trees in the background .

Mike McCarty (left) and I met July 5, 2002. He became a close friend and he even worked for me at CPWD. I think he is the first person I fired. Mike was great. He bought a SONY CD Mavica like mine and took some photos for me on the Free Our People March for me in 2003. We saw each other almost every day and we traveled to every ADAPT action from 2003 to 2011. Mike lived in a nursing home for seven years. After he moved out of the CPWD Independent Living Apartments in Boulder, he had an apartment on Pearl Street on the very western end. It was really a fantastic location.

Barry Rosenberg (right) was with Wade Blank in the beginning of our movement. He was the essential part of the Underground Railroad. Without Barry at the Colorado end, MCIL could not have moved people out of expensive nursing homes into their own home in Colorado. Barry was part of developing the home and community services in Colorado that were critical to people being independent. He was also a good photographer and videographer. I see his videos around some, he felt strongly about helping people tell their story, and documenting the Independent Living movement. He ran the largest home health agency in the Denver area.

The Vigil Starts Here

ADAPT camps out in downtown Denver to ensure HCPF promises

(DENVER July 5, 2002) Colorado ADAPT began a vigil today outside the state Human Services Building in order to ensure the promises made by the state Health Care Policy Finance (HCPF) committee concerning cuts in Medicaid. Woman speaks into a bullhorn.

“We are enforcement,” said Anita Cameron to ADAPT advocates outside the office building in downtown Denver, “we are going to be here, ADAPT is staying downtown to put pressure on HCPF.”

Advocates are angry that the extent of cuts were determined in a closed meeting of HCPF, and rallied at noon for “no cuts, no caps, and no changes.” About 170 people from Home Health Agencies and disability rights organizations attended the rally including Rolllie Heath a candidate for Colorado Governor.

The watchful vigil started following a meeting at the Human Services Building with the Medicaid Director Karen Reinertson. The Director made clear to people at the meeting that a five percent cut to Home Health Agencies was in effect and that Colorado would freeze enrollment in the state Home and Community Based Waiver program.

“You are all scared about the cuts,” said Reinertson, “I am scared too. The whole program is at risk. We have no agenda here that any of you go into an institution.”

If Colorado freezes access to home and community based services, the state may be unable to keep moving inappropriately institutionalized individuals from nursing homes in violation of Olmstead.

In the meeting with Director Reinertson, Reed Reynolds described a priority list that would keep the goals of Olmstead while limiting enrollment in the waiver program. Reynolds said that current nursing home residents would have “expedited admission” into the program; but told participants in the meeting that the list of priorities was not complete and did not currently include young adults in transition and people at risk of being placed in a nursing home.

Reynolds said that his general numbers showed that each month 400 individuals leave the program while approximately 450 join. That would be adding about 50 names to a waiting list for services each month while the priority system would have ample room to guarantee Olmstead eligible individuals have access to Home and Community Based waivers. The US Flag with the stars on a blue field arranged in the universal access symbol. Man speaks into a microphone with red and white stripes behind him.

Director Reinertson agreed to continue talking with interested parties next week about the relevant issues raised at the meeting and workable language for Senate Bill 27 that calls for a personal care option to state waivers.

HCPF will also be talking with individual agencies affected by the Medicaid cuts. Reinertson said in the meeting that small pharmacies were given an exemption to the cuts and small Home Health providers may be eligible for a similar exception.

“I hope for a deal like the small pharmacies,” said Carol Bouchard, the Director of Accent on Independence, a small provider, “I have to remain positive.”

The vigil intends to make sure HCPF will not endanger the state's compliance with the Olmstead decision, keep promises HCPF has made and to support advocates who will continue to meet with HCPF officers.

- Tim Wheat

July 6, 2002

This morning before work, Judy and I tried to recall if the Colorado ADAPT Vigil was planned or if it was a spontaneous action. Both Judy and I thought that it was a reaction to what had happened at the meeting that day. Following the meeting, Colorado ADAPT decided to remain outside until the state changed its mind on the cuts to the home care program. I have to admit, however, that it really seemed as if there was some planning on the activists part. They seemed to know that they may stay.

Whatever happened twenty years ago, I was now part of the action. I did stay with Judy at her apartment, I was not sleeping on the sidewalk with the other Colorado ADAPT activists. Twenty years ago today was a Saturday and Judy took her day off to visit the radicals sleeping at the Human Services office in downtown Denver.

Woman using a wheelchair smiles Man in yellow shirt and white beard smiles at the camera

LaTonya Reeves on the left is another transplant from Memphis. The current version of ADAPT’s legislation to end the Nursing Home bias is called the LaTonya Reeves Freedom Act. I did not know her in Memphis, but she was one of the first on the MCIL Underground Railroad. On the right is Rick James, long time ADAPT activist.

Small dog stares blankly at the camera, woman with big smile holds the dog. People lie on blankets and wheelchairs are on a city sidewalk.

Photo left: When the vigil started, sleeping bags, food and supplies started to show up over the weekend. Many people, like me, slept at home but spent time out on the sidewalk with the protest. Barry Rosenburg paid for a portable toilet to be delivered to the site that kept the local police happy with the occupation. On Saturday afternoon there were about twenty people out on the sidewalk. Over the first weekend of the vigil, more than a dozen people were camped out in protest.

Photo right: Julie Aird and Cielo. I did not know her well, but I had known Julie for about five years. She would become one of my best friends and last month (2022) I met her and her husband Lowell in Hannibal Missouri; I wrote a little about that trip. Julie lives in Boulder Colorado and made the trip to downtown Denver to show support for the ADAPT activists.

ADAPT Vigil Day Two

(DENVER, July 6, 2002) ADAPT weathered the first hard 24 hours of their vigil to enforce promises made by the Colorado Health Care Policy Financing committee (ADAPT advocates milled around the front door of the Colorado Human Services Building today as the state Medicaid staff enjoyed the weekend. Bald man in a yellow shirt using a power wheelchair.

“If they can take 5% here,” said Dawn Russell who spent the night in front of the Human Services Building, “they will take another 5% next week and the nursing homes don’t take any cuts.”

Following a meeting yesterday with the Colorado Medicaid Director Karen Reinertson, ADAPT began an enforcement vigil to make sure that ADAPT vigil is not off to a smooth start. At 1:00 am sprinklers automatically came on where advocates had built their “tent city” near the door of the Human Services Building. At 5:00 am a strong rain tested ADAPT advocate resolve. Fortunately, the afternoon was clear and sunny, perfect for drying wet clothes and equipment for the vigil to continue tonight.

“When the sprinklers came on, I was already in my sleeping bag,” said LaTonya Reeves of ADAPT. “Four people picked me up and moved me, sleeping bag and all.”

Melvin Douglas, who escaped a nursing home in Tennessee and is now able to live independently in Colorado was out to support ADAPT. The services he receives are not frills, but essential services that keep him from languishing in an institutional setting.

Photo left: I met Melvin Douglas in a nursing home in Memphis. I worked with him for a long time to make his move to Denver and his own apartment. I also was able to see first-hand the inhumanity that existed in the institutional environment. The youngest person I met in a nursing home was just sixteen years old. The nursing homes were like small towns and residents often gossiped and spread misinformation about our mission, program and motivations. Often the occupants reacted like they were gripped with Stockholm Syndrome and talked about how they needed the nursing home and they felt loved and safe.

Terence Turner, when asked how long he planned to be outside the Medicaid office building said: “As long as it takes.”

- Tim Wheat

Judy Neal at a bus stop (photo)

July 7, 2002

Three people sitting and listen among blankets to someone out of frame.

Twenty years ago today the ADAPT vigil was in its third day on the sidewalk in front of the Colorado Human Services building. Typically, the first part of a demonstration is the most kinetic and passionate. Because this action began on a Friday, it started to simmer right away. There was no one to connect or confront in downtown Denver over the weekend. July 7 was a hot, lazy summer day and the protestors were settling in and communing with each other.

On the other hand, the decision to remain downtown right in front of the main doorway was helping to ensure that each person was committed and knowledgeable about this demonstration. People talked about why they were there and why they had camped out all weekend. It was a two-day seminar on their purpose and goals. Each demonstrator was able to try out ideas and phrases with each other that they would use to question and confront policy-makers on Monday.

I still wonder just how spontaneous this demonstration was. I know that Kansas ADAPT had a “tent city” at the state capitol, but my memory was that demonstration followed the Colorado ADAPT Vigil. I would have known about the Rally on Friday and maybe that was my motivation to get to Denver on July 4. I would need to drive or fly to be at the event because it would take over a week to get there on my bicycle.

In the brief article below about the vigil I begin to journal the events for a multi-day action. Of course on Sunday nothing really happened and nothing was going to happen. At the time, ADAPT activists had a feeling that the police may charge in and break-up the gathering at any time. They may have done it in the middle of the night or early in the morning to clear the protestors out before the building was open.

Photo above: Pete, Lowell and Julie. By the end of the year I would work with these three people in Boulder at the Center for People with Disabilities and become the Boulder ADAPT organizer. Pete is almost out of frame on the right.

The vigil concept was non-violent and non-confrontational. The demonstrators were not going to block the sidewalk, doors or entrance to the parking garage util ADAPT activists felt they needed to “raise the temperature” to get something done. Since Friday, the vigil was only symbolic. The protestors on the street were only there to be seen and easily ignored. There was nothing directly confrontational.

Blond woman smiles in profile

Photo left: Babs Johnson was one of the original organizers of National ADAPT and goes back to the early days of Wade Blank and the beginning of the movement. Since I have known her she mostly worked in the background and doing the difficult and thankless jobs of support.

There were, however, many passive methods of engagement. The gang of people outside all night is the most obvious. The number of people using wheelchairs was also very noticeable. The rally had been backed by a large “Free Our People” sign that was supported by PVC pipe, there was also the disability rights flag on a PVC stand. Other signs were around the building entrance and the demonstrators used sidewalk chalk to write messages all around the entrance to the building. The demonstration was ramping up for the Monday morning return to work for state employees.

Below is my article from the web.

ADAPT Vigil Day Three

No cuts, no caps and no changes

By Tim Wheat

(DENVER, July 7, 2002) ADAPT advocates lead a coalition in an ongoing vigil today at the Human Services Building that started on Friday when the state Medicaid Director confirmed that Home Health services would be cut 5 percent.

“We are out here now to insist that there are no cuts, no caps and no changes,” said Julie Aird of Boulder ADAPT.

Advocates gathered in the shade under an ADAPT banner that reads “free our people,” with sleeping bags, food and water crowding the sidewalk. With chalk advocates had drawn slogans on the sidewalk and decorated the area with flowers donated by a passer-by.

“They better make a decision soon,” said Dawn Russell of ADAPT, “because we are pretty good at this. All the mishaps of the first night were cleared up, it has been smooth.” Chalk writing around a disability rights flag that says: The War will be Won!

Photo right: The chalk art says: “THE WAR Will Be WON!” Post 9/11 ADAPT continued to use a lot of martial and violent language. One direction that I am very proud of is to help the group to limit the warlike and sports terminology. All of the yellow t-shirts made for the rally call this the “Battle of HCPF.”

I was not totally successful with my campaign, but as I started to do more media for ADAPT I also helped us to move from the militaristic descriptions to what I believe were more accurate and relevant descriptions. Often it was too easy for us to describe our action as an attack, battle or fight. From that we also had to describe how ADAPT won and was non-violent.

The sports analogies were also very common and not always so violent. But I felt that sometimes the sports analogies left people out and did not describe our culture of inclusion. My main message was to think about how our action was described and make it something that is powerful and non-violent.

Overall, ADAPT was known for confrontation, and persistence and sometimes the bellegeriant representations were accurate. We needed to be better at knowing this especially less than a year after 9/11.

[NOTE] There was a text graphic inset in this article that was linked to the MCIL website and is now lost. It is a bad link and I cannot find the original graphic. TEXT GRAPHIC: Nursing homes are the most expensive and least desirable form of long-term care

Last night and today advocates had been discussing the goals of the vigil and report today that there is no confusion in the coalition led by ADAPT. Starting Monday, the group will also target the state legislature to retract the home health cuts. Particularly troubling to activists is that the reimbursements to facilities are protected in state statutes, even though institutional care is the most expensive and least desirable care.

July 8, 2002

People, many using wheelchairs, line a city sidewalk.

I had wondered if the Colorado ADAPT vigil had really been the spontaneous reaction to the state Medicaid department standing fast on cuts to the home health programs. My memory was that it was just born out of anger and frustration at that time. As I look back twenty years from the perspective of knowing what happened, I can’t help but think that it was preplanned and I was not in on the ploy.

Of course if you plan a downtown camp out, why start it on Friday? The whirling dervish is tossed at the state building and everyone goes home for two days. I probably seem obsessed with this. I should just call Dawn and ask her, but I really think I should know. If I don’t know, I should be able to figure it out. I can tell you for sure that ADAPTs planning is sometimes very bad. I believe that is why I attempted to explain “ADAPT Timing” and the “ADAPT gods.” Even with substandard planning, ADAPT would make do and create something around the plan that we had.

Photo left: The activists on Monday morning as the state employees arrive at the Colorado Human Services Building.

Photo below: Dawn Russell. She started at MCIL the month before I did in 1996. Now she is a leader of this protest in Denver. She moved to Colorado to work at Atlantis in 1999 and Judy, who also worked at MCIL, followed her six months later. Woman with dark hair wearing a yellow t-shirt that says: The Battle of H C P F

Judy had to be at the office so we rode the bus and light rail into downtown. I stayed at the vigil and she headed north to where the Denver Center for Independent Living was located. When I arrived, most people had been awake, but some were still sleeping or sacked out on the sidewalk. I called the event a “tent city” in the piece I wrote twenty years ago, but there were no tents. Most of the activists slept in a line along the sidewalk. Some slept in their wheelchairs and a few others were scattered around. Women waking up on a city sidewalk in a bundle of blankets.

Over the weekend the vigil had developed some systems. There was an accessible portable toilet on the corner. On the other end there was a table with food and water. The activists were gathered around the door, but not blocking it and signs greeted the visitors all along the entrance to the state office building. An Atlantis van was typically parked in the first street parking space, near the large Free Our People banner.

As far as my bike adventure goes, I believed that I was right where I ought to be. I was at a disability rights event from the beginning and I was uniquely situated to see this through to the end. While I cannot recall if the thing was spontaneous, I was sure that ADAPT was in for the duration. It was only the start of the fourth day and I saw this had the character to last all summer.

Although some of the Denver home health agencies were speaking in solidarity with ADAPT on Friday, a few home health directors were willing to take the five percent cut. This is the “behind-the-scenes” stuff that really motivates ADAPT activists. The people on the streets knew that in addition to the state Medicaid department, they also had to show determination to the directors that were willing to work with the small cut. Gold domed building seen through trees.

As usual, at the center of this was the guy who would be my boss in about five months.

People, many using wheelchairs gathered on a wide city sidewalk seen from above

Colorado ADAPT’s Tent City (photo)

Boy sleeping on a sidewalk

Cameron (photo)

Boy sleeping on a sidewalk

Andrew (photo)

Dawn’s step-children were spending the summer, so they were part of the protest. The children at all of the ADAPT Actions helped to reinforce the non-violent atmosphere of the demonstration. It also must have been a great way to spend a summer.

ADAPT Vigil Day Four

Fresh start on Monday

Man in ball cap wearing a yellow shirt.

(DENVER, July 8, 2002) Day four of ADAPT’s vigil in downtown Denver showed the seriousness of advocates' resolve to see that Colorado does not cut, cap or change the funding of home alternatives to nursing homes. State employees working in the Human Services Building at 1575 Sherman were greeted by 20 activists who had spent the entire weekend camped in front of the offices of the Health Care Policy Finance (HCPF) committee demanding that they not cut essential home-health funds.

Karen Reinertson and Reed Reynolds were both among those who snaked through the advocates “tent city” on the sidewalk. Reynolds had given rough numbers at a meeting this past Friday that suggest that over 1000 Coloradoans would be on a waiting list for home and community based services by this time next year. Reinertson is the Medicaid Director that confirmed that cuts were put into effect on the first of July.

In the afternoon Karen Reinertson visited advocates and talked with the coalition that is holding vigil to enforce promises made by HCPF and demanding no cuts or caps in home-health funding. Reinertson did not say that she was retracting the cuts.

“I told Karen Reinertson that it would affect our clients,” said Tim Thornton of Atlantis Community. “We will have to cut back on hours, I hope we don’t have to downsize staff.” Man wearing a cowboy hat and ADAPT shirt holding a sign that says: NO CAPS! CUTS! CHANGES

Crowd of people on a wide city sidewalk seen from above

Advocates took the opportunity of being so close to the state capitol to reach out to the state legislature to correct the favoritism of funding institutions over home and community based programs. The nursing home industry’s Medicaid reimbursement rate is a matter of state statute, while unelected, political appointees control home-health Medicaid funding. Therefore it is a matter of changing state law to alter the nursing homes funds, while HCPF is free to slash funds to the more desirable and less expensive home services.

Many people passing by and even state employees were expressing their support for the coalition's goals and admiring ADAPT’s resolve. The advocates were fresh and highly motivated, four days into the vigil, as the state employees began their workweek. A sign met all the state employees as they walked through the front door of the Human Services Building that forecast the end of the vigil; the sign read: Government must ADAPT.

Gold domed building with trees, buildings and a car around it.

July 9, 2002

The Colorado vigil had begun, to use a bicycle metaphor, with an uphill climb. It started on a Friday and the first two days there was no traffic to the state Human Services building over the weekend. There was also not much traffic at that part of downtown because it is dominated by office buildings and not retail. But Monday had been a much more successful day for the activists. ADAPT members spoke to people on the sidewalk and people going into the building. The major Medicaid officials for Colorado stopped and spoke to the protestors and the Denver Post did an article.

Photo left: Dawn Russell at the ADAPT vigil on day five. I love the expression on her face, but I regret the angle I took the photo from standing above her. She has a very expressive face but I have trouble getting a truly candid shot of her.

The Denver Post piece was good, but the demonstrators hated it because it did not acknowledge the vigil or quote any of the activists currently involved with the state. It didn't even quote any of the home health executives who had been at the rally on Friday July 5. It told a personal story and gave a breakdown of the numbers the state was working with. On the other hand, it suggested that the state budget was shrinking and that home health agencies were not tightening their belts like everyone else in Colorado. Karen Reinertson, the executive director of HCPF, said in the article that she would reduce the cuts if home health agencies will open their books and demonstrate that they truly cannot afford to continue serving Medicaid patients.

Reinertson made a strong challenge to the relatively new home health business in Colorado. She went further to cite a survey that found Colorado was the fourth-most expensive state for home health care per capita in the nation. Additionally the activists didn't like the article because anyone that read it may think that it was the greedy home health that should really be the target of the demonstration.

Photo above: One of Dawn's nephews plays in the downtown Denver environment near the ADAPT vigil.

Photo right: It is not great, but that is my work. I am headed home each night and I return the next day with something the activists need. Always a newspaper, but also I made this sign to quickly tell people something about what is going on. Most notably I highlight that it is the ADAPT vigil.

I was new to Colorado, but I got to meet the small collection of home health providers in the Denver area. Now twenty years later, I can see how those home health agencies were looking out for themselves. Activists and Home Health advocates alike talked about keeping people out of expensive nursing homes, but none of the ADAPT activists were there for the money. People with disabilities in the Denver area had a connection to the home health agencies and believed that that five percent was the difference between freedom and incarceration for some people with disabilities.

The real negotiations were between the state and home health. Karen Reinertson was talking to demonstrators and engaging them outside, but she thought that the decision would be made with the executives around a conference table. ADAPT was camped out to make that decision more about the people on Medicaid. I don't know if it was a good strategy or bad, but Reinertson had given the Home Health agencies the path to success as well. She said they needed to "open their books," to show exigency.

Photo left: David Bolin the Executive Director of the Center for People with Disabilities in Boulder. He had the trust and respect of the activists out on the sidewalk, but it was an open secret that he negotiated behind the backs of everyone else. He would freely speak for ADAPT and spend CPWD funds that were earmarked for ADAPT. At the Boulder Center he was facing backlash from the staff that did not choose to spend some time in Denver. David was eventually removed from the state Medical Services Board because they believe he led an ADAPT protest that took over their regular meeting. I worked at CPWD at the time and he blamed me for getting him kicked off the board; but really it was his loyalty. No one could tell if he was an activist or a bureaucrat.

Photo right: Julie Reiskin was the leader of the Colorado Cross Disability Coalition. When I worked in Colorado, Julie was the person to know who had her finger on the pulse of the disability community. She clashed with business, bureaucrats and activists alike but held together the CCDC and made it a major player in disability issues in the state.

ADAPT Vigil Day Five

Getting things moving

Photo above: activists using wheelchairs mill about the entrance after spending the night on the sidewalk.

(DENVER July 9, 2002) The coalition of advocates led by ADAPT camping in front of the Colorado Human Services Building are optimistic of success and seeing an impact of the vigil that has lasted five days.

“We are moving things,” said Dawn Russell, “it has been really good. Everyone has got a lot of energy.”

The Denver Post Business section had a front-page article on the vigil today that showed the Executive Director of HCPF walking past ADAPT’s sign that reads FREE OUR PEOPLE. Karen Reinertson, the executive director, when she saw the photograph is reported to have said: “I look like a tourist.”

Twenty-two advocates kept the vigil last night sleeping under the clear Colorado skies last night keeping up the demand that HCPF not cut or cap the home-health funding.

“Colorado has been a progressive state,” said Babs Johnson of ADAPT, “we shouldn’t be going backwards.”

Several plans are being proposed and examined that will allow Colorado to cut Medicaid spending while continuing to keep the focus of Olmstead. The vigil has given advocates the ability to meet for hours with the HCPF director and staff.

What was very clear on day five is that the ADAPT vigil has made the state seriously look for options to cutting home and community services.

July 10, 2002

Photo above: One of the Colorado HCPF staff that daily interacted with the ADAPT activists.

The ADAPT vigil had settled in. The Denver Post article from Monday was slowly changing the landscape of the demonstration and negotiations but the real event from this day was the summer rain. Colorado gets a lot of sunshine and when the vigil had started on Friday, five days ago, there was nothing planned in case of rain. I had called the vigil a "tent city," but there were no tents. During the day, the bedding that people used overnight was either stacked into the ADAPT van, or was folded and placed out of the way. There always seemed to be some bedding around because children and people were napping throughout the day.

I visited the vigil in the afternoon and witnessed the state staff speaking with the activists at the end of the workday. Earlier, activists were angry thinking that the state had cut off the power that activists needed to recharge their chairs. The security guards claimed that the activists blew the fuse to that outside plug, but the guards may have cut the power. It very likely was not a state plan to annoy the activists. There were also other places to charge the wheelchairs around that were not cut off. But the incident added to the drama.

The main news was that the state was agreeable to the demand that they not "cap" the home health services. In the original proposal, Colorado stated that to control costs they would set an upper limit on enrollment, similar to the current year so they did not have a wave of people on the program. To be eligible for the home Medicaid services, however, a person would have to be qualified for nursing home care. A state cap could have the effect of citizens not being able to get home care, and pushing them into expensive institutional care that is not capped. The result is that long-term care costs the taxpayers more.

Photo right: The t-shirt made for this action by ADAPT. It makes me think there was preplanning for the vigil.

Nothing was in writing and the activists were not giving an inch. Even though the state seemed willing to meet the ADAPT demand, the activists on the street did not reciprocate the state pull-back. Everyone knew that it was the reimbursement rate that was the main issue. HCPF had a meeting at 10:AM with ADAPT and the home health agencies and the meeting was successful. The activists saw the way to success was to keep the pressure up and keep wearing down the state in meetings around their conference table.

The night before I believe was the largest crowd in front of the state building overnight. Dawn told me that 22 people had spent the night. The dark skies however seemed to thin out the crowd. I went to meet Judy at the light rail downtown and as we had dinner near the 16th Street Mall, it began to rain. We wondered what the demonstrators were going through when it started to hail. I took a couple of photos to show the hail, but it is hard to imagine just what it was like to be caught out in a hailstorm.

Judy and I finished our meal and the rain had stopped. We made our way up the 16th Street Mall, across Broadway and up the hill to Sherman Street. The entire group had moved into the parking garage next door to the Human Services Building. People were wet and cold, but they were saved from the hail. Back on day four I had taken a photo of the group from the top level of that parking garage. After office hours, the garage was almost completely empty.

Surviving that storm was a badge of honor for the activists. Even the people who were not there for the hail, had a sense of holding out until the state meets all of our demands. The idea that the sacrifice on the streets was being successful. I know from being an activist myself, it is hard to separate the action, the chants, street theater and the passion from the accomplishments. In the end, the reason the state met the demand is because it made sense. The bureaucrats believed the changes were being made by contemplative deliberations, while the activists were sure the street performance was changing minds.

Photo above: My attempt to photograph the hailstorm.

Last night, July 9, 2022, I got an email from Dawn Russell. Judy had asked her if the vigil was planned or unplanned. Her response:

"Spontaneous.

ADAPT Vigil Day Six

Undeterred by rain

(DENVER July 10, 2002) ADAPT braced for rain at around 5:00 pm on the sixth day of their vigil demanding HCPF not cut or cap Home-Health services and keep promises made about Medicaid-funded long term care.

“Colorado Human Services does not want us here. Power and water were cut off here,” said Anita Cameron of ADAPT. “Human Services staff have been coming out and being nasty and stuff, one person yelled at me.”

Carol Workman-Allen came out of retirement to work with HCPF to develop Senate Bill 27, she negotiated for electrical power to recharge wheelchairs, said Anita.

In a meeting today at 10 am in the Human Services Building, HCPF officials said that the state was reconsidering the cap on Home-Health services. The meeting concerned a proposal for more consumer-directed services called SB 27.

The statement that the cap was being reconsidered boosted advocates resolve who have spent five days camped in front of the Medicaid offices. The encouragement was welcome as a thunderstorm crashed down on advocates. The thunderstorm was uncommonly powerful for Denver and included a strong hailstorm.

“We have cleaned up the area to protect our stuff from the rain,” said Anita Cameron, but be clear – we are not leaving.”

Photo above: Carolyn Finnel. One of the Gang of Nineteen, who blocked two buses overnight at the corner of Colfax and Broadway (just 2 blocks from the HCPF office) to get lifts on buses.

Photo left: The entrance of the Colorado State Human Services Building after six days of demonstration. The rain and hail would wash away the street art and some signs, but the trial would strengthen the resolve of the activists.

Photo right: The parking garage shelter from the storm. The ADAPT "tent city" had no tents. Because of the extreme weather, the entire group was able to find cover in the parking garage next door. The rain did not last long. Although the group thinned out some, they spent the night on the sidewalk and greeted the HCPF staff in the morning.

Judy is on the far right talking with Dawn (out of the frame). Judy was working each day at DCIL and catching-up with the discussions each evening. Activists were thrilled with the progress, but they also recognized that they may be outside all summer. If they did not have any progress after a week, they likely would have "bumped it up," to a grand gesture or arrest action to show the disapproval of people with disabilities and go home to renew the strategy. Success, however; made ADAPT more committed to the action and keeping the vigil up.

July 11, 2002

In the morning, twenty years ago today, I returned to the ADAPT vigil outside the Colorado Human Services building to see if the group had survived the rain. The rain and hail had been strong at the end of the workday for the commute home, but after the rain stopped and hail had melted away, the group emerged from the parking garage and rebuilt the outdoor camp.

While Colorado had undertaken the vigil, national ADAPT was looking to keep pressure on the National Governors Association to pass a resolution supporting MiCASSA, the ADAPT national legislation to end the institutional bias. The NGA is important because for MiCASSA to work, each state will need to amend their Nurse Practices Act to allow for more individual control of medical care. Because MiCASSA, the Medicaid Community Attendant Services and Supports Act, would take place in people's homes and not institutions, each state would likely have to alter some nursing rules to accommodate less bureaucracy.

The National Governors Association planned a meeting in Boise, Idaho this weekend (2002) and National ADAPT was looking to organize a group from nearby states to confront the NGA and ask them to include a resolution of support. Colorado ADAPT was one of those states. Although the whole group was involved in the vigil, a handful of people were selected to go. I was able to wedge myself into the group headed to Idaho.

It is about the same distance from Denver to Boise as it is from Denver to Memphis. The plan was for me to return to Littleton and pack in the afternoon. I would meet the team going to Idaho when I returned to the vigil in the evening.

The photos from today are from early morning, before the state building was open, and in the evening with the ADAPT activists having dinner together on the sidewalk.

Photo above: Some of the bedding is neatly folded, like the photo on the previous page. Some bedding is not. Eventually the sidewalk returned to the small community following the rain. Notice the sign I made (ADAPT Vigil day 7) was spared, but the other signs in pink and purple look like they got wet.

Photo right: Dawn, Anita and Julie passed out small flowers to the state employees in the morning. Dawn seemed to put one in her hair. While Dawn could communicate well with everyone else on the planet, I had a very hard time talking to her. We were rarely on the same wavelength. Sometimes our conflicting perspectives were powerful together but most times Dawn and I were frustrated by inability to converse.

Photo above: Following the rain and hail storm, the ADAPT activists had breakfast with a floral arrangement.

Photo above right: Dawn and Anita give flowers to the passing state employees. Now one week into the vigil, ADAPT was making the state think that this encampment may last all summer (Julie Aird is just out of frame, she is handing out flowers also).

Photo right: Gil enjoys dinner with the activists on the sidewalk. Notice the "Spirit of the ADA" t-shirt from the tenth anniversary event they had in the Denver area. Judy coordinated the ADA event in Memphis two summers ago.

Photo left: Judy met me downtown to say goodbye as I headed off to Boise for the ADAPT action. We ate with the activists camped out on the sidewalk that evening.

Photo above right: Babs Johnson and Carol Buchard. It is likely that Carol purchased the diner for the activists this evening (2002). She is the executive director of one of the smaller home health agencies.

ADAPT Vigil Day Seven

One week, weakening the state

(DENVER July 11, 2002) ADAPT vigil day seven dawned clear and warm, the rain and violent hailstorm from the pervious night had not dampened the advocates spirit.

“The inner doorway was filled with people watching us sing in the rain,” said Dawn Russell about the state employees that watched the ADAPT advocates enjoy the vigil in the downpour.

Day seven was filled with discussions on differentials. The idea to pay a higher rate for attendant services performed before 8 am and after 4 pm has been called differentials. They have the advantage of rewarding those agencies that are serious about meeting consumer’s real-world needs. While differentials are a good idea to help direct Medicaid reimbursements, they could be introduced without a cut of the current home-health funds.

“The differential would be only 2 ½ percent not zero cuts. I wouldn’t accept the differentials,” said Tim Thornton of the Atlantis Community. “I think we are getting somewhere however with [Karen Reinertson] coming out and saying no caps and a 2 ½ cut with differentials.”

ADAPT members came up with a chant during all the discussions of the differentials: “We won’t go till the cuts get a no.”

Photo Left: While I don't know who this is, I should know. Many of the photos that I took during this time in Denver I have left out. Some are people that I just don't remember. But this photo was too good to discard. I hope that my memory will catch-up with me and I will be able to add a name to this photo and possibly retain the memory.

Tomorrow at 9 am there will be a public hearing on the cuts made by HCPF at the Jefferson County Government Building. Some advocates will be at the public hearing but many will keep the vigil downtown at the Human Services Building.

“It makes no sense,” said Tim Thornton, “to hold the hearings after the cuts have been made.”

July 12, 2002

I have no photos from twenty years ago today. I was driving from Denver to Boise Idaho with Atlantis ADAPT. In the van with me were Babs, Gil and Sheila. We drove the Interstate so I assume that is why I chose not to take any photos en route. I had packed earlier in the day and left from the vigil site downtown. I had known Babs, Gil and Sheila for over five years, but I was not close to any of them. We were traveling with a van from CPWD in Boulder with Kurt, Robert and Lowell in that vehicle.

When I met Babs, I did not know how much she did behind the scenes for ADAPT. I also did not know just how far back she went as an organizer, but I learned that she was there at the beginning of the civil rights group. She knew Wade Blank and learned from him. When we drove to Bosie, ADAPT was going through a reorganization. Babs' partner, Mike Auberger, was the director or co-director of Atlantis and one of the top organizers of the unstructured ADAPT group. He left a vacuum in the leadership of ADAPT when he was fired from Atlantis. Babs was a natural primary leader of ADAPT as she split-up from Mike and he faded out of the picture.

The Atlantis office organically became a history museum of ADAPT. The story was that Wade Blank posted news articles on the wall about the non-violent direct actions of the group and the collection grew to cover the walls of the office. In the 1990s the collection covered the National ADAPT actions and they placed the news articles under plexiglass around the office. One of the most impressive parts of the display was the unique t-shirts from each action were framed and displayed over the news articles at a more readable height. Now, the Atlantis office calls itself a museum of ADAPT and has preserved the display to show the power of the disability rights group. I have not seen this new museum.

Photo above right: This is my small Fujitsu computer. I don't know why the battery is missing in the front, It must be on AC. I took this photo on July 13, but I am using it for today. Also note the compbook beside the computer. I have lost it, and it has my journal for today.

July 13, 2002

Planning, training and administration for the ADAPT action in Boise began at noon, twenty years ago today. The objective was to break through roadblocks in the ADAPT conversation with the National Governors Association. Basically, ADAPT realized that for the national legislation to take effect, each US state would have to amend state law to change their Nurse Practices Act and allow more individual choice. While this was a barrier to the eventual implementation of the proposed bill, it was also a hurdle to getting MiCASSA passed in the first place.

Photo above: Greg Jones from Kansas. Next month we would share a hotel room in Washington DC for the Justin Dart memorial.

Photo right: The promotion ad for the Idaho Statesman for the weekend of the National Governors Association.

The group met together to work out tactics to use that would bring the Governors to the table. This is precisely the activities that many people did not like about ADAPT. The goal was very bureautic, but the methods that ADAPT was using were not. In general some people saw getting the support of the NGA would mean each state would lobby their governor to support the idea. The advocates would use traditional, mostly passive means, to sway each governors' opinion and win the support from the group in general. ADAPT was using conflict to attempt to win that support and not the "honey, that would attract more flies."

In 1983 when ADAPT was started, the antagonist was the American Public Transit Association, APTA. ADAPT followed the national APTA convention around the country and Canada to protest their resistance to making buses accessible. APTA was a natural "bad guy" and ADAPT was the oppressed "little guy" that was left out by the billion dollar trade association. Some of the purpose of shadowing APTA conventions was to convince people that wheelchair users need public transportation also. However, ADAPT additionally wanted to demonstrate some anger from the community about being left out, overlooked and not served because it would cost them more. People with disabilities could not be integrated into the community without showing some anger at the barriers that were holding them back.

Photo above: Babs Johnson and Barb Toomer. Two of the leaders of National ADAPT.

So ADAPT were the good guys and APTA were the foils. But since the successful campaign to make transit accessible, the direction seemed to be that ADAPT wanted to do something good, and the NGA were just not on board. This was true for many of the ADAPT targets. At our national action back in May, we "won" support from Unions, and the OMB action was eventually very successful. None of our targets at that action were actually opposed to MiCASSA, ADAPT was using direct confrontational action to get support. I think most people think that support is contemplative, that the organization or people think and care about the issue enough to act. I believe the criticism of ADAPT was that as a group we should save the direct action for those that oppose MiCASSA.

I saw ADAPT become very successful with this strategy. The disability rights group was winning a coalition of support, but it was not quick and it was not complete. At one point the Union SEIU was paying people to attend ADAPT Actions and they were a sponsor of our 2011 "My Medicaid Matters," rally at the US Capitol. A couple of years later, SEIU was a target again.

Twenty years ago, the National Governors Association was the object of ADAPT's tough love. The state governors were very protected and it was going to be difficult for ADAPT to somehow get our protest in front of them. Like every citizen of Boise, we looked to the newspaper to tell us what was in store for the governors that day. Although we had spent the day Friday traveling and we were taking Saturday to rest and plan, the overall maneuver was to go downtown and take any opportunity that presented itself. In other words, we had faith in the ADAPT gods.

In 1998 I had been a "day leader" for the ADAPT Action in Memphis Tennessee. ADAPT strategy was determined by the day leaders and the tactics were the responsibility of the "color leaders." Because I was the web guy, my job was not leadership but I sat in most of the meetings. At this regional action, there was not a clear hierarchy. It is tough to lead a large group, and at the Boise action it was significantly more difficult because there was not any uncomplicated path to our goal. There were lots of ideas and not a lot of decisions; I suppose there were too many cooks in the kitchen.

I say this about the planning now, because many ADAPT actions I witnessed had fantastic planning. Most often the group never gets done all that is planned. Sometimes we have gone from morning to midnight attempting to get in an additional venture. Typically I am interested in the outcome and not what we plan because of the ADAPT Action Report, my focus is on the results. Here in Boise, I saw the group come up with lots of ideas, hoping that something was going to work. I had the idea that this was going to be a fantastic action. I think everyone else had the same feeling and we all had many ideas and we would act on the best one when the time came.

Photos above: The planning session for the ADAPT members in Boise. Usually the ADAPT meeting with everyone is called the big meeting. In this format, the day leaders go over the success from each day and what to expect tomorrow. No details, just what time to line up and if you need food and rain gear.

That night I was sharing a room with Gil and the Boulder group, Lowell, Robert and Kurt. I slept on the floor because I was an outsider. I also stayed up late working on the media. The planning Saturday was all aimed at the next day.

Kansas ADAPT, I believe, had the largest group, but Utah had only a five or six hour drive.

I was born in Alabama, but last lived in Tennessee. I heckled the current governor, Don Sunquist, at his campaign kick-off event in Memphis. I hoped to see him at this convention. I do not know if the governor of Alabama was there, he would lose his campaign in November of 2002.

July 14, 2002

I hope that I have set the scene for the Boise National Governors Association ADAPT Action. I expect the politics and motivations are in the primary sources, including my own, from twenty years ago. Today I hope to revisit how the action felt for me. I think other activists felt similarly but I am also sure that each person had unique concerns and feelings.

Photo above: The group began about 9:AM and marched together past the Idaho Capitol building in the bright sunlight.

Boise was not a very successful action for ADAPT. I think it is hard for such a close group of people to honestly and accurately analyze the group's failure and success. If you are outside the group, it would be easier to see blunders and if you are a part of ADAPT it is easier to see accomplishment.

Almost all of the photos I took 20 years ago were in the 640x480 aspect. But I did take some at the highest resolution. It may not be obvious in the photos, but the group was often on the move in the summer sun. There were just enough people that the group could not move quickly and without clear planning, we ended up returning to the hotel the governors were at. At the end of the day, I believe the ambling around from place to place for so long in the heat really made the action overall seem pointless.

The highlight of the ADAPT action, in my opinion, was my description of the day for the ADAPT Action Report. I am typically more humble, but this retrospective is my interpretation and I think that reading my article from twenty years ago makes the action more triumphant than we really were. Moreover, I believe that each ADAPT activist who was there had a similar feeling.

The Idaho Capitol Building (photo 1)

The Idaho Capitol Building (photo 2)

ADAPT marching in Boise (photo)

Previous photos: ADAPT marches past the Capitol. The past two pages were photos I took at a high resolution. I must have liked the image. I also took versions in the 640x480 aspect, but I am glad that I have these.

It is still a long walk. You also may note that there are not any cars on the street. It is Sunday morning, the buildings and offices are closed. There is very little traffic, no pedestrians and no parked cars.

Photo: After we marched for an hour, ADAPT located the NGA vehicles they gave to each of the governors. By chance, one of the five SUVs belonged to Tennessee Governor Don Sundquist.

Sundquist was my governor, I was still registered to vote in Tennessee. ADAPT activists surrounded the five SUVs that displayed the NGA vanity license plates. The state troopers closed the road and made it clear that the vehicles were not going anywhere.

Soon after we had blocked the cars, Sunquist emerged from the building. I think his body language here says a lot. Other governors in the group were also annoyed by our action, but I did not recognize what other state leaders were there.

Sundquist stood around outside looking distrubed for just enough time for me to get photos of him. I am sure the state arranged some other transportation and he left after about five minutes.

Still, I was amazed. We were just an hour into the action and we had pissed off the governor of my state. I thought this action was really going well.

ADAPT blocking the NGA cars (photo 1)

ADAPT blocking the NGA cars (photo 2)

ADAPT blocking the NGA cars (photo 3)

That is Ken Wulla on the right, but I don't know who is on the left. I used Lightroom to blur the background slightly and soften the exposure of the SUV. I think it makes a much better photo and seemingly brings the subjects out of the background. Editing the photo twenty years later I also notice how sharp I am able to make the faces, I did not think much of this photo back in 2002, but now I love it.

Photo previous pages: ADAPT activists surrounded the five SUVs near the capitol and negotiated with the state troopers to speak with someone from the National Governors Association. The state troopers, governors and state bureaucrats that were at the capitol were the only audience for the demonstration.

Again, I took these three high-resolution photos of ADAPT blocking the SUVs. I don't recall who is in the first and last one. But in the middle photo is Cecil Walker, Sheila Dean and Gil Casarez blocking the black SUV and talking to one of the bicycle patrol officers. I had made the trip with Sheila and Gil in the Atlantis van from Colorado. Cecil is from Kansas.

Photo left: Another photo of Sundquist.

Photo right: Matt Salo with the National Governors Association. We negotiated to speak to the health policy analyst and by 11:30 ADAPT had found a shady spot and was speaking to Salo about our demands to the NGA.

The discussion broke down into banter about the demands. While ADAPT would see Matt Salo again, there really wasn't anywhere to go on a Sunday to confront the NGA.

ADAPT confronts the NGA (photo)

Photo above: Barb Toomer was at the first National ADAPT Action in 1983. She wrote about it for the ADAPT 25th Anniversary which I produced. It was great getting to know her, she was a great activist. Leadership was divided at this regional action and we never really had a successful clash.

Photo above right: ADAPT on the march home. More people and cars were out later in the afternoon, but we just could not keep wondering the streets of Boise without an objective.

Photo below right: I don't know this ADAPT activist's name but I love the candid photo.

Where is my car?

ADAPT blocks state governors transportation around Boise

(BOISE, July 14, 2002) ADAPT blocked five of the governors courtesy SUVs and harassed the participants of the National Governors Association Conference in downtown Boise Idaho today to get support for Medicaid reform.

At exactly 10:00 a.m. ADAPT maneuvered to the east side of the Idaho Capitol and took over several Sport Utility Vehicles (SUVs) that appear to be gifts to the various governors attending the conference. The SUVs are easy to spot because they carry a specialized license plate that begins with the letters N – G – A.

The Boise police, helpless to move as quickly as ADAPT, opted to close the road that the captured SUVs were on. State Street, the road at the back of the Capitol Building, was shut down until after noon. Advocates eventually surrounded five SUVs, but the action had a chilling effect on the governors’ ability to travel around the city. The noticeable SUVs were not seen at the other venues for the conference or on the downtown streets.

Don Sundquist, the governor of Tennessee who is familiar with ADAPT, was one of the governors who was unable to use the Idaho supplied SUV for transportation. Tennessee is the worst state at providing alternatives to nursing homes spending 99% of public funding for the most expensive and least desirable form of long-term care: an institution.

Photo: The state and local police worked together to watch ADAPT meander around Boise all day in the hot sun.

Sundquist waited with the guards for about five minutes before he walked to 6th Street and around the block. The governors had some of the SUVs running to cool them off on the 100-degree day, but instead those governors were forced to ‘hit the pavement.’

ADAPT had made plans to meet with the Health and Human Resources Committee Legislative Director for the NGA at 11:00 am. Barbara Toomer suggested that Matt Salo of the NGA come to talk with ADAPT in the middle of closed State Street. Salo waffled, but eventually met with ADAPT at 11:20. State Street remained closed during the meeting

“I have seen many of you in Washington,” Salo said.

Sheila Dean told of her friends back in Denver Colorado who have been camped out for nine days and nights in front of the Medicaid office building demanding reasonable Medicaid policy funding (Read more about the Colorado ADAPT Action).

Photo: The state troopers and local police were around us all day. The empty streets and closed offices made us stand out even more than usual.

“This will be happening all over the country,” she said.

“Kansas has more home and community services,” said Greg Jones, “and we have a lower proportional Medicaid budget than any state on our boarders.”

Advocates found out quickly that Salo was not familiar with Medicaid and Health Care Policy. At one point Salo suggested that ADAPT change the name of MiCASSA.

“Hell, if it gets the people out of nursing homes,” said Ken Wulla, “we’ll name it after you Matt.”

Matt Salo, however, got most of his knowledge about long-term care from ADAPT today. He attempted to banter briefly with advocates, but it became obvious to everyone that Salo did not know what he was talking about and was not a reasonable spokesperson for the NGA (e-mail Matt Salo at msalo@nga.org).

Advocates were asking for a short meeting with the governors at this conference and to get on the NGA agenda for the next conference. The basic goal was to get the NGA to endorse MiCASSA, which they have nearly done with Gov. Howard Dean’s testimony before the Senate Special Committee on Aging. Although the NGA has sanctioned many of the concepts of MiCASSA, they have not endorsed the legislation.

Salo could not help ADAPT with the demands either. He resisted Roxan Perez’s request to allow only one advocate to assist him with calling someone that could address the demands. He also would not give Roxan the phone number of Susan Dotchin who he claimed could make these decisions.

At 12:30 pm ADAPT moves out and hikes back to the Grove Hotel where the governors were staying. In front of the hotel Roxan, who was leading the march, did not use the curb-ramp the police had instructed. This made a tense moment as ADAPT filed past a line of police and motorcycle cops as well as men in suits who were likely federal police.

Sergeant R.L. Furman announced that the Boise Police “will now enforce criminal activity ordinance.” He claimed that they would arrest ADAPT members if they violated any innocuous city rule such as crossing against the lights.

Coincidentally, Sgt. Furman knew Susan Dotchin and agreed to call her and “see what we can get done this afternoon.”

It was not Sgt. Furman, however, that came back with the reply.

“I cannot arrange that for you,” said Lieutenant Jim Kerns about a meeting with Dotchin, “no one from the NGA will meet with you.”

The Lieutenant’s statement said a lot about the NGA hiding inside the Grove Hotel.

ADAPT opted to leave downtown “loud and proud,” leaving the governors with the additional message that they can expect more from ADAPT. In a final tense moment, ADAPT marched down the sidewalk past the barriers manned by several police arriving back at the hotel just before a thunderstorm hit.

Photo: Sergeant R.L. Furman without his sunglasses.

July 15, 2002

Twenty years ago today was another travel day for me and I took no photos. I was headed back to Denver from the ADAPT Action in Boise Idaho. But life goes on and the demonstration at the Colorado Human Services building was going strong and making progress. Thankfully, I had Judy Neal to write a story about the Colorado ADAPT vigil while I was gone. She is a much better writer than I, she has journalism in her past and she knows the key individuals. Judy is also a great photographer, but I did not have a camera for her.

Now that I look back I see that I included the following:

Editor's Note: The usual ADAPT Action Report photographer is in Boise Idaho for the NGA Action. This report is being filed by Judy Neal without photos.

First thing I noticed was that I was the editor and I wrote it like there were other writers. I also adopted the title "usual ADAPT Action Report Photographer," rather than "only photographer" with one digital camera. Additionally, I say the report is being filed by Judy, like many other reporters are filing stories to me the Editor. Of course, "file the story" may be accurate because I am sure she emailed it to me while I was in Boise or traveling back to Denver. But in general as I read this twenty years later, I am making the ADAPT Action Report seem like it is a larger operation than it actually is.

Later on, I did try to interest people in participating in the ADAPT Action Report and you can see some of those articles:

http://www.timwheat.com/tim/aar/index.htm

Overall, my attempts failed. My collection of writers could not meet their deadlines and because I was the one putting stuff on the web, once I got behind, I was behind for the rest of the action. I started asking people to get me just one 200 word piece, but it would come after the action. Only occasionally could I get someone to participate in the action and also be able to write about it that day.

I also asked the media team to get me quotes from the action. This was the most helpful, because I could meld these quotes into my narrative of the action. But the quotes became less helpful and still harder for me to collect in the limited time I had. Although I had developed a handout and gave people small notebooks with the ADAPT logo, When I got quotes they all were: "great action;" "really, really great action;" and "great action, really." I did use some quotes, but I never got the media team to produce our own story.

I was always part of the ADAPT media team following the Memphis action in 1998. Marsha Katz had set the standard and she worked to get media outlets and news desks to cover our action. As a matter of fact, that is the part of the media team strategy that I really was not a part of. I worked to help out, but I came to realize that we were not putting enough effort into telling our own story.

Marsha, when she led the media team, also wrote an after-action press release that would generally tell what had happened with some quotes from ADAPT activists at the center of the action. That was a great first-draft of history from the ADAPT perspective. When Amber took over leadership of the media team around 2007, that primary source disappeared. Print sources were drying up and our media team had more people chasing fewer news sources. This was a peak time for the ADAPT Action Report because often I was the only one telling the story about what our group was doing. I didn't see it at the time and I regret not expanding the ADAPT Action Report. I am sorry that I kept on doing what I had done in the past and not insisting the media team be more involved in telling the ADAPT story.

Now that the ADAPT Action Report is gone, there is almost no media at all. You can follow ADAPT to this day on social media, but that change has also created a social media feed that does not tell a story. There are disconnected statements and a handful of poorly created video rants. Maybe this is the future of communication. I believe this one tip will improve ADAPT media 50 percent. All ADAPT needs to do to improve their outreach by half would be to turn your phone 90 degrees. I mean shoot the video rants in landscape not portrait.

There is a lot more boiling up inside me as I say that. It makes me angry and I am torn between helpful criticism and angry vitriol.

Although Judy filed the report July 14, I am putting it here in the retrospective because I had plenty to write about yesterday.

ADAPT Vigil Day Ten

As Long As It Takes

By Judy Neal

Editor's Note: The usual ADAPT Action Report photographer is in Boise Idaho for the NGA Action. This report is being filed by Judy Neal without photos.

(DENVER July 14, 2002) ADAPT advocates settled in today for their second weekend in a Medicaid Cuts Stand Off. The July 12 public hearing produced a lot of discussion, but no results.

"I think it's going our way," said Carol Bouchard of AOI Home Health. "We may not get all the cuts stopped, but it will be okay."

"No cuts, no caps, no changes," Anita Cameron chimed in.

ADAPT and the Home Health Agencies share some common goals, but ADAPT is demanding no cuts to attendant services.

"If there must be cuts," said Tisha Cunningham, "they should be in non-essential, high profit areas," .

Tiring of Karen Reinertson's condescending and patronizing attitude, ADAPT decided today to reintroduce their demands on Monday and ask for a written response as well as a meeting with ADAPT.

"She only talks to the Directors," said Dawn Russell about the HCPF Director Reinertson. "She needs to talk directly to us. We're the ones this is really about. We're not asking for something special, we just know the best way to spend the money"

Passers-by have asked questions, offered support, and even come back by with food donations. On Friday, July 12th Senate Majority Leader Bill Thiebout stopped by to offer his support and tell ADAPT about the lawsuit he has filed against Governor Bill Owens over the state budget cuts. According to Theibaut, the cuts were made without legislative approval.

Photo: Judy Neal the author of today's report. I made this photo on Friday when she came downtown to say goodbye to me before I headed off to Boise.

“People are finding out about us," said Anita Cameron. " I went home for a shower and when I was getting back on the bus, a person waiting in line said, 'Let her on first. She's one of those protesters. She needs to get back to work.'"

"Bills have to be paid," said Tisha Cunningham who is the Client Financial Services Coordinator who may bring in her desk, checkbooks, and calculator on Monday. "That's my job."

Others joined in with plans to keep their "day jobs" going without giving up their ground. "Karen Reinertson has the power to end this on her own," an advocate said, "but I don't think she'll do anything until the next board meeting, or until she figures out how to save face."

Many of the ADAPT advocates have canceled plans over the last nine days. Although many of them wanted to be in Boise, Idaho to participate in the Action there, they felt that they needed to keep the pressure on here in Denver.

"We're with the Boise group in spirit," said Julie Redenbaugh-Aird.

"We hope they kick some NGA ass," added LaTonya Reeves.

"How long are you willing to stay?" I asked.

"As long as it takes," the group replied in unison.

July 16, 2002

I have not been on my bike for over a month since I visited the ER in Mt. Carmel, Illinois. My access Across America has turned into media support for ADAPT. I left Memphis and in less than two weeks I posted nine articles from Denver and Boise. It had been a month and a half since I wrote the piece about the CIL in Washington PA. In the first two months of my journey, I visited three CILs, produced three articles and rode about three thousand miles. At the ADAPT Action in May, by contrast, I produced seven articles in five days, all off of my bike. In Memphis, I had my wisdom teeth out, but produced two articles in two weeks with zero miles on my bike.

This is not the analysis I was doing twenty years ago. While I was there on the sidewalk in front of the Colorado Human Services building I was with principal leaders of ADAPT, the head of the largest home health provider in Denver as well as the Executive Directors of other home health agencies. I was with the head of both Centers for Independent Living in Denver and the ED of the Boulder CIL.

I look back and see so much to do and so many opportunities. At the time, I did not really know the people I saw at the protest. I am sure at this point I was still driven by wishing to accomplish something related to the bike ride. I clearly had a lot of options at this time. I am not sure how I would change things, but on July 16, 2002 I was back in Denver and back at the ADAPT vigil; everyone was asleep after the eleventh day.

I returned with the Atlantis crew late and I just camped out on the sidewalk with the other ADAPT activists. I took a photo of the group sleeping on the sidewalk at about 3:AM and although I melded together days eleven and twelve, I really did not get there until after midnight the twelfth day of the ADAPT campout.

Photo above: The Colorado dome at night from near the Human Services office building on Sherman Street.

I took photos of the group sleeping in small piles on the sidewalk. Some wheelchair users just piled blankets on their wheelchairs and went to sleep. The July in Denver was dry and hot. At night the lowest the temperature got was 58, but because of the low humidity, it was more comfortable to sleep under a blanket. There was a walking path down the sidewalk and to the door of the Colorado Human Services building, but one pile on the south walkway to the door, one pile to the north of the entrance walk and the largest pile of activists along the sidewalk opposite of the main entrance of the building.

Photo above: Rick James sacked out in his wheelchair with a pile of activists sleeping across the sidewalk.

Photo right: ADAPT activists sleep in a pile near the door of the Colorado Human Services building.

The group out on the sidewalk had been successful while I was gone. Every weekday they had been talking with the state bureaucrats and the impromptu meetings turned into more official meetings and negotiations. That morning Carol Buchard and David Bolin came early, Babs, Dawn, Rick and Anita had slept with the group on the sidewalk and they all met Karen Rienertson, the director of HCPF when she came into work. The state admitted an error and was willing to agree to ADAPT's demands, but they were holding fast to the five percent cut to home health.

Photo left: I recognize my own handwriting in the chalk message on the sidewalk during the protest.

ADAPT walked out of the meeting on Monday, July 15, 2002. The state had almost agreed to the demands, but ADAPT was showing solidarity with the home health agencies and stuck with the "no cuts" demand. This could have split the alliance of activists and the home health providers. The talks starting today could focus on just the cuts. The group talked to Rienertson for 45 minutes before she went up to her office and there were some ideas to finally end the protest.

Photos: ADAPT Activists sleeping on the sidewalk in front of the Human Services building.

I had a chance to catch up on what had happened while I was in Boise and I told stories from the action. The group on the sidewalk had held the coalition with home health agencies together and they were offering the state a good deal that could end the demonstration.

ADAPT Vigil Days 11 and 12

Spending the night on the sidewalk with ADAPT

By Tim Wheat

On the 11th day of the ADAPT vigil I spent the night with the advocates on the sidewalk in front of the Colorado Human Services Building.

Late in the evening when the downtown area is fairly quiet and few cars drive past, the ADAPT members talked of the events of the day and strategy for tomorrow. Mostly, advocates repeated what was said with HCPF officials and discussed the validity and ramifications of the statements. What stood out most however was a change in the general feel of the action.

“We got pissed today, we got tired and we took control,” said Tisha Cunningham about the change in the vigil’s temperament. “All of us worked together and kicked ass.”

At a meeting earlier in the day, ADAPT showed their frustration by collectively walking out.

“The meeting began with Gary Schneider, the HCPF long-term care director, saying that they had made mistakes in the freeze on HCBS and the scoring for eligibility,” said Dawn Russell. “Basically, it was their way of saying they have met two of our three demands.”

The walkout occurred after Gary Schneider admitted he was powerless to meet the final demand, no home health budget cut, and Julie Reiskin presented a new agenda. ADAPT left together and rejoined those holding vigil on the street.

This evening I decided to stay up with Dawn Russell who had volunteered for a watch from 1:30 to 3:00 am. Everyone in the group, in pairs, does a shift of remaining awake as a general “lookout,” and helping others sleep.

Photo left: The impromptu meeting on the sidewalk with the state, home health and activists.

Dawn has the reputation of getting the exciting shift – the shift with the humorous stories to tell in the morning. My shift with Dawn was pretty mild; however, we did have a discussion with a passer-by named Nick. He wanted to know what was going on and why people were sleeping on the sidewalk. Nick and his friend were the only ones to come by the camp on our shift.

Photo above: David Bolin of CPWD

Dawn and I never finished talking about the events of the day, but as it got later our conversation was mixed more with personal feelings and speculation of what would happen. Much of the frustration among advocates was how Rienertson is patronizing the advocates; asking questions of seemingly false concern for ADAPT’s safety and comfort and not treating them as professionals. Another frustration was with the negotiations seemingly being directed to the agencies rather than with the people on the street.

When the shift was over I was ready to get some sleep. The night was cool and clear with a mild breeze above the quiet downtown streets. Rick and Ruth took over the next shift as I crawled into a sleeping bag under the ADAPT banner that reads, FREE OUR PEOPLE.

Sometime after 5 am I was wakened by a clop-clop sound behind my head. My semi-lucid thought was that there was a horse behind me. The sound actually were wheels of a state employees bag as it hit the joints in the sidewalk. I got some sleep after that, but I did notice people walking past just inches from my head.

The morning felt great. Cool and clear with the sun reflected off of the Colorado State Capitol dome. Everyone but the final shift and me were asleep at around 6 am. One group of about seven slept under the ADAPT banner, another group of four or five were under the ADAPT flag with four or five spread around the entrance area of the building.

Photo below: Tim Thorton, the Executive Director of Atlantis

After I stretched and put my shoes on, I walked around the block to get the two morning local newspapers. I watched as ADAPT slowly woke up and state employees one at a time came to the office building. From sleeping bags ADAPT members said good morning to the various state workers that have shown support for the vigil.

The morning of the 12th day of the vigil an impromptu meeting began at the foot of Babs Johnson’s sleeping bag. David Bolin, the Executive Director of the Center for People with Disabilities showed up around 7:45 am and Karen Reinertson came by at 8:15. By 8:30 at least two other agency directors had joined the gathering as well as Gary Schneider.

The Agencies are asking that if they are able to find other ways to cut the 5% from their budgets, not from attendant services, that HCPF will allow it. Early indications are that HCPF will allow the agency proposal, but Karen Reinertson has not put anything in writing yet.

The discussion is basically to change the Occupational and Physical Therapy (OT and PT) in-home treatments, many of which may be billed alternatively to Medicare. The proposal is to save money by putting a limit on these payments, for example, 20 visits one year after an injury. This idea would stop agencies from billing for infinite in-home therapy. Cutting the OT and PT expenditures in half would save $3.5 million. That would be enough to cover current personal attendant services amounting to no cuts.

A letter yesterday to Karen Reinertson however, made apparent the dynamic of what and who will be making a decision over the proper resolution of the standoff at the Human Services Building. ADAPT advocates reminded the Executive Director of HCPF in the letter that it was necessary to meet the demands of the ADAPT rather than the specific dealings with the various agencies involved.

July 17, 2002

Again today was a day without photos twenty years ago. I spent most of the day in the Denver Public Library producing a letter that Dawn and Judy had scripted last night along with the ADAPT demands for public consumption. The letter promotes the "ADAPT vigil" into a "Medicaid Cuts Stand-Off." Now that the state had admitted an error and was meeting the first two demands of ADAPT, the group wanted to make clear that the home health agencies were not going to make a deal without including ADAPT. Some of the ADAPT activists were scheming the next move in the negotiations while others were making the best of living on the downtown sidewalk. The time the activists spent together resulted in everyone having talking points about the action. There was solidarity in the action with the home health agencies, but the action was turning into a protest to get more funding for the businesses and not people with disabilities. At least, that was one perception that state bureaucrats had.

There was not any local news since the first weekend of the demonstration. The food was being supplied by home health agencies. The state police were allowing the campout because there was an accessible portable toilet at the site that was provided by the largest home health agency. It was not hard to see the connection between the interests of the home health businesses and their support of the protest.

The Boulder CIL, where I would get a job before the end of this year, was having some tension among employees who did not think that co-workers should be "on the clock" when they were at the demonstration. I did not work there at the time, but I know that one employee had made a complaint. The Executive Director in Boulder, however, was using either CPWD funds or Boulder ADAPT money to pay for parking all day in front of the Colorado Human Services building. I am not sure how CPWD was supporting the demonstration, but it was one of the non-profit home health agencies that helped the protest.

I was not a major player in this event and because of the time in Boise, I was not really needed at all. Now twenty years later, looking back, the time in Boise was really unproductive. We spent two days driving and three nights in a hotel for one day of confrontation. Because it was on a Sunday or an early end to the National Governors Association meeting, ADAPT was really "in the streets" for about six hours. I was happy we got to ambush the Tennessee Governor, but everyone else was from out west and they did not see their governors. So the afternoon was about four hours of stalking and not finding our prey.

I think I was the most optimistic person at that action in Boise, and I did not take photos of our trip back to the hotel and photos at the post-action meeting. I typically take photos at these times because the action can bring out great passion and expression. Of course, they can also show exhaustion and disappointment. Tom Olin also feels that it is important to photograph these instances because it adds to the importance of the action and the feeling of success. He says that when you stop taking photos, people can feel like the event is over or that they are not an important part of what has taken place.

So here is a confession. I have faked taking photos. Not as much with this camera that I used before 2004. But with my SONY R-1, and its silent electronic shutter, I would fake a lot. So what I mean by fake is that I would hold up the camera and act like I was snapping a photo when I was not. Sometimes I would fake when people were posing when I thought they should look like committed activists. Sometimes I faked taking shots from a distance when I just wanted to get away from the crowd. Since 2014 however, and my SONY 7r as my main camera, I don't think I did any phony photos. It is also impossible to fake the 7r, it has such a loud shutter-curtain flap, the subject can hear it from 25 yards away.

The Rienertson Letter:

Dear Ms. Rienertson:

As we approach the second week of the Medicaid Cuts Stand-Off, Colorado ADAPT would like to clarify some issues. ADAPT is made up of advocates and activists from all walks of life. Our mutual interests include the civil rights of people with disabilities and the public perception and treatment of people with disabilities, or simply stated, discrimination. Although we are looking for similar outcomes as the Home Health Agency Directors and other bureaucrats with whom you are meeting, we feel that you have overlooked valuable input from the people your decisions affect most. During the past week, you have met with a number of vested parties, but have only patronized ADAPT members with inquiries about our safety and comfort. That is discrimination of the ugliest kind.

We have a dual mission in camping on your doorstep. We insist on having our demands considered, and we want you and other people who make decisions that affect our lives to look at us every morning and every evening, so that you can remember that you are dealing with the lives of human beings.

ADAPT members outside your building are not the dregs of society or the inconsequential rabble you may assume us to be. Most of us are taxpayers who hold professional positions. Some of us are here because our jobs are in jeopardy, some of us are jeopardizing our jobs by being here. But most importantly, all of us know that our lives and the lives of our friends will be in jeopardy if attendant services are cut.

ADAPT is asking that you read the enclosed demands, respond to us in writing as to your understanding of our demands, and meet with ADAPT today. You may arrange this meeting by walking outside and asking. Among those of us waiting for your decision, and those of us who have been here all or part of the last ten days, are: Attendants, Local Business People, Executive Directors and Co-directors of several Colorado Centers for Independent Living, Administrator, Benefits Specialist, Client Financial Services Coordinator, Life Skills Instructor, Attendant Team Leaders, Shift Supervisors, Home Modification Specialist, Learning Center Director, Section 8 Housing Coordinator, Peer Coordinator, Client Advocate, Receptionist, LPN . . . .

We ask you to meet with the professionals you have been ignoring. We are also the people whose lives you may be destroying.

Sincerely,

Colorado ADAPT

Text of the demands:

July 17, 2002

To: Karen Reinertson, Executive Director, HCPF

From: ADAPT

Re: Home Health

Department has implemented or is considering several changes to home health in efforts to address necessary budget reductions for fiscal year 2002-2003. Among these suggestions are:

1. Rate reductions long term home health aides (CNA) ; RN/LPN and therapy services are reduced 5%.

Any proposed changes to a discrete reduction (CAN), requires an offsetting reduction in another service in order to preserve the required budget reduction. Members of ADAPT and ten home health agencies, have suggested that placing limits on the therapy benefits may present savings that could be used to restore all of the home health aide rate reductions.

Data is being analyzed to estimate the amount of potential savings. The savings to the state from the home health aide rate reduction is $1.5 million. ADAPT is proposing savings in the areas of physical, occupational, and speech therapy. If these savings can be realized, HCPF has assured ADAPT that there will be no cuts in home health aide rates.

2. HCBS/EBD Waiver Cap and raising the ULCP100 minimum score to 25.

The Department is concerned that persons not in need of long term care are being admitted to the EBD Waiver. The Department is redefining the definition of long term care. Long term care is defined as anyone needing attendant services to live independently within the community. Attendant services include, but are not limited to: getting people in and out of bed, dressing, bathing, toileting, transferring to and from a wheelchair, eating, reading, writing, and housekeeping. Prioritization of persons will give preference to those seeking de-institutionalization or at immediate risk of nursing home placement.

The department raised the waiver admission score from 20 to 25. The intent is to reduce inappropriate admissions to the waiver program. Review of the complete approval process has revealed that while the functional assessment score contributes to the decision process, there are additional screening criteria that also contribute to the overall decision to admit or deny a person’s access to the program. Care should be taken, however, when increasing the scoring, as there are clients who are appropriate for the program who will be eliminated due to low scores.

ADAPT suggests that the scoring tool be reviewed, as it doesn’t take certain aspects of disability into account, which may have a negative impact on eligibility. For example, the scoring tool should allow an opportunity for more individualized assessment. The Department and stakeholders are now reviewing the admission process in its entirety to make the eventual assessment more appropriate. Those findings may have an impact on the waiver admission score.

The Department is also considering:

Medicaid only agency certification
Better use of nurse delegation
Quick implementation of Senate Bill 27
Nurses and CNAs as direct providers

July 18, 2002

Twenty years ago today I titled the ADAPT Action Report piece: Complete ADAPT Victory! It was really a spectacular direct action, non-violent protest and was close to complete. The home health agencies did cut some Occupational and Physical Therapy, but the cut was on their terms and not an edict of five percent rate cut. The coalition had stuck together and seemed to win with determination and grass-roots power.

I really don't know how overstated that is, because that is the history, that is the story we tell and the primary sources all say the same thing. In the past twenty years I have gotten to know David Bolin who was on the inside of the negotiations. At the time, I was close to Dawn and I got her perspective on what was happening. From what I know of David Bolin, he was making deals in the halls and behind closed doors all this time. I would not doubt if he had worked out the rate and area of the cuts that were beneficial to his home health in Boulder.

But it was over, and we were celebrating total victory and claiming complete success.

It does bother me today that the Global Nonviolent Action Database reprinted my article but attributed it to "Tom Wheat."

Photo left: Dawn Russell and Karen Rienertson. I think the picture says a lot. Dawn had put two weeks sleeping outside on the sidewalk attempting to include people with disabilities in the resolution of the changes to Medicaid reimbursement. I did take a photo of her asleep on the sidewalk, but she would hate for me to ever show that. She typically hates all the photos I take of her, but I cannot help but think that I believe she is very photogenic and often really shows the emotion of the situations ADAPT is in.

Photo above: Barry Rosenberg, the director of the largest home health in Denver. He was critical to make the link to get people out of nursing homes in Memphis into their own apartment in Denver. His commitment to disability rights goes back to the beginning of the movement.

Photo above right: David Bolin. Of course everyone has to speak following the success of the ADAPT action. David was an insider of all the groups involved and I learned how he typically lobbied individually with the decision makers and would not necessarily share his solutions in the public meetings.

Photo right: My ADAPT vigil sign made it to the end. I think July 5 to July 18 is 13 days, but those activists sleeping outside counted it as two weeks.

Photo right: This is a photo that I love but I did not use it back in 2002. I cannot believe I am showing you this and I think that Dawn may prefer I show the photo of her sleeping on the sidewalk, eating a hotdog or putting on her makeup (all photos I have).

I am sure the patronizing look of this photo is the reason I did not use it twenty years ago.

Photo left: Anita Cameron goes back to the beginning of ADAPT and has experience organizing in other US cities. In 2002 she was back in Denver. Anita is involved in everything, ADAPT, transportation, Emergency preparedness, physician assisted suicide, access and anything related to civil rights. I marched with her two weeks from Philadelphia to Washington DC, in 2003.

Photo right: Like I said, everyone has to speak following the successful ADAPT vigil. When I worked with Dawn, I could never get her to practice or write down what she wanted to say. Good thing, she is a much better impromptu speaker. She had the ability not to speak too long and she could hit the important points. She would not hide her emotions which I thought was amazing. The rule we used with exetermperious speaking was to think of the absolutely most important phrase and build up to it; say it and sit down.

Complete ADAPT Victory

HCPF withdraws cuts caps and changes to Colorado Home Health

By Tim Wheat

(DENVER July 18, 2002) Colorado ADAPT resolved the standoff with the Health Care Policy Finance (HCPF) committee today. After camping night and day for 13 days in front of the Colorado Human Services Building in downtown Denver, HCPF finally agreed to ADAPT’s demands of “no cuts, no caps and no changes” to home-health services.

Photo above: Karen Reiertson.

“On July fifth there were people willing to walk away and take a cut,” said Dawn Russell. “ADAPT said no, and 14 days later we got no cuts, no caps and no changes.”

Advocates had built a “sidewalk city” in front of the entrance to the Human Services Building but not blocking the single entrance. Each day state officials were reminded of the human factor in their decisions and saw the dedication of ADAPT.

“We did it, we are going home,” said Babs Johnson of Colorado ADAPT. “Monday’s letter really made her think.”

Photo below: LaTonya Reeves originally from Memphis. She moved out of an expensive nursing home in Tennessee into her own apartment in Denver. Twenty years later there is national legislation named after to end the institutional bias that was responsible for the ADAPT vigil.

Babs Johnson referred to a letter from Colorado ADAPT to the Executive Director of HCPF that clarified ADAPT’s position and restated how HCPF could resolve the situation. Since that letter the negotiations were made with the advocates holding vigil in the streets. Various local agencies had been involved with the examination of the new rules; however, it was the dedication of ADAPT advocates that pushed HCPF to withdraw the cuts, caps and changes.

“I am here to announce complete and total victory,” said Anita Cameron at the 1:30 pm press conference today. “No cuts in attendant services, and this victory comes on Nelson Mandela’s birthday.”

Karen Reinertson, the executive director of HCPF said the resolution was “unique in Colorado.” She praised ADAPT for generating a “recipient driven” proposal saying that advocates deserved “hearty congratulations.”

“They said ‘I know we have to give up something,’” said Karen Reinertson, “and they came back with a proposal.”

The victory was not just the direct policy change but also the demand of the local community not to accept going back to the institutional bias of the past. Denver is one of the more progressive communities in providing home options to nursing homes, but there is still an institutional bias in this state.

Although the nursing home industry controls most of the funds for Coloradoans long-term care, this action showed that people resent the idea of stopping the progress of alternatives to nursing homes. Ultimately ending the unequal funding of long-term care is what the vigil is all about. Reimbursements to facilities are part of statute and not susceptible to cuts by HCPF. Nursing homes; however, are the most expensive and least desirable form of long-term care.

Five of the advocates that began the HCPF vigil left for 3 days to send a similar message to the National Governors Association Conference in Boise Idaho over the weekend of July 14. Each state determines the level of Medicaid spending on nursing homes and the NGA has been slow to accept MiCASSA.

Between a low of 11 and a high of 22 people, spent the night on the sidewalk in the “tent city” without any tents. The advocates were fed with a constant stream of donated food and had a portable accessible toilet always around the corner.

Photo below: Pete, Gil and my good friends Lowell and Julie at the ending rally. Pete, Lowell and Julie worked in Boulder and we would become co-workers before the end of 2002.

End of Part 2.

Part 1: The Jornada Begins

Part 3: Circling Home

The link to a companion Google Map:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=12J8T6KN6I15psXLm5GgZoZ2ApqWv2NUc&usp=sharing

The link to the original blog:

http://www.timwheat.com/tim/jornada/

Tim Wheat

tim@timwheat.com