You can't get there from here

The sign tells the first part of this story: The "handicap" entrance to the Derby City Antique Mall is around back -- same area as the loading dock. The building was originally an old school -- used to be called Hikes Graded School in the old days. Now it's an antique mall. See all the steps at the front entrance?




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Around back, way high up next to the door we see this sign:




And here's the entrance:




Ignore if you will, the dangerous grate. Ignore the steep ramp.You can't see it, you can only see the ledge next to it. But there is a ramp -- steep, but usable.
Except when you roll down to the doors -- they're locked.

An embarrassing entrance -- but no bigotry? I don't think so...

Butterfly Garden Cafe (1327 Bardstown Road) moved several years ago into its present location, a fully inaccessible building. MetroSweep eventually sued them about it.

Time passed, though -- a lot of time, to my way of thinking -- and nothing got done -- took forever -- then I learned the matter had been resolved; that the place had in fact installed a ramp.

But it was the kind of solution that still manages to stick it to the crips, so to speak, and I can't help but wonder why it was accepted by the folks who use wheelchairs.

I had not actually been there until yesterday. I suppose in a sense I was boycotting it, although that's really too strong a word. I simply didn't want to patronize any place that had been so unwilling to provide access, and then been so nasty, to my way of thinking, in its final solution.

So it wasn't as though I didn't know I'd find something that irritated me.

Still I was surprised when I actually parked in the back parking lot and my friend and I made our way to the cafe, only to learn that the only real way to get to the entrance was to go along the side of the building between the cafe building and the building to its south. And that pathway consisted of the ramp, rising up nicely.

Well this could've been great! I was, for a few moments, pleasantly surprised.

That pleasant feeling would not last, though.

When you get to the top of the ramp, you've come about two-thirds of the way to the front of the building, and you're at a side door.

It's there that things fall completely apart.

Because the door you come to opens directly into ... a diner's table!

Yes, the door, although it was in fact unlocked and had a lever handle, was a door no one would ever go through. You'd bump right into diners! Can you imagine any wheelchair user with the chutzpah to do that??

I'm sure that's just how Butterfly Garden intended it -- and, I guess, MetroSweep accepted this "solution."

To "really" get into the cafe -- that is, for all the normal ladies the Cafe is really intended for -- you move forward from that landing to a set of steps, which you walk back down, then walk around the front to the front porch, walk back up those steps, and up yet another step, to finally get into the building housing the cafe.

How do I begin to explain what's wrong with this picture?

Yes, the door at the top of the ramp was unlocked. I opened it just to see. Sure enough, when I did, the diners at the table in front of the door looked horrified, as well they might. Was somebody actually trying to come in this way? they seemed to be thinking.

Can you just imagine how it would feel to be someone in a wheelchair coming up and -- well, they'd see that the door opened dab smack into a cafe table, and I suspect would be too embarrassed to go in. Or, if they did persist, what a scene there'd be, with folks jumping up, moving tables, water spilling, hostess wringing her hands.... a really wonderful welcome, designed to make the crip feel as though they are the wrongdoer, not Butterfly Garden.

But, as you know, nobody is bigoted against disabled people. Nobody wishes them any harm. This was just the best the poor Butterfly Garden could do.

You might believe that, unless you notice the expanse of yard at the front of the building, which could have easily been ramped.

You might believe that, unless you think about how easily the cafe could have made that side entrance into its main entrance, simply by rearranging furniture and the hostess station, entailing virtually no cost other than a couple of hours' work moving things around.

But they didn't mean any harm? If you believe that, try reading this.

What happened with coverage of the "house that love built" ?

You'd have to be living under a Metro-area rock -- with no access to any local media at all -- to miss the fact that ABC's Extreme Makeover: Home Edition just completed a new home for U. of L. freshman Patrick Henry Hughes, who uses a wheelchair and is blind, and who lives with his family in the Buechel area.

The home appears to be totally accessible -- although it's hard to find out much about the access details through the fog of inspiration. Despite the almost non-stop media coverage in the C-J and on the local TV stations -- and all their websites -- the story has been played throughout as inspiration, not cutting-edge design. The phrase "the house that love built" has been the headline of at least two (here and here ) and maybe more stories in the C-J. Of course it's the Extreme Makeover folks promoting this.

But they have a willing co-conspirator in Father Hughes. The "inspiration" slant is something Hughes' father, Patrick John Hughes, seems to have been encouraging if not orchestrating for a long time. A Google search of "Patrick Henry Hughes" brings up many stories about the "selfless dad" who marches with his son in the U. of L. band, pushing his wheelchair. Most of these stories end up being more about the father's selflessness than about a college freshman's interests and lifestyle. Makes you wonder a bit. But that's not the topic of this blog posting. (If you want more on what I've learned over the years about such inspirational treatments, you might want to read this and this.)

In all of the media overkill of the last week, we finally get this:

Patrick Henry Hughes eagerly summed up his favorite feature of the new home:

"It's wonderful the fact that the house is more accessible," he said, smiling. "I can do everything by myself when I want to. It's gonna be great!"

Ah yes: that is the point. Too bad it was so thoroughly buried in the story 'Hometown heroes' honored.

I've yet to find any real coverage of what the actual access consists of. I've still got no real idea of precisely why and how Hughes is going to be able to be independent (despite his dad) in his new digs. Those are the pictures I'd like to see. Another story that didn't get reported, along the lines of actual access, comes via yesterday's press release from the University of Louisville -- about how Hughes

will be able to feel the shape and layout inside and out through a plastic model of the home, thanks to efforts at the Rapid Prototyping Center at UofL’s J.B. Speed School of Engineering.

Didn't see this anywhere in all the mass media hoopla, either.

Perhaps the most troubling thing about the way the story has been covered is that access is presented as something "special" being given out of "love" to Hughes by all the selfless volunteers.

Wouldn't it be better -- and more accurate -- to report that home access should be every person's right -- not just a lucky special recipient who gets a "gift"??

What the media coverage has done for me is a little different, maybe, than what it has done for the thousands who have watched and read and "felt good": All the coverage just makes me think of all the other wheelchair users in the community who could use access in their homes -- and could get it, if attention were paid to the issue, rather than focusing on the "inspiration" of one college-age fellow whose dad is ever-present. If Elite Homes, for example, decided to start incorporating the principles of visitability in all their new homes.

It makes me think about how little home access gets discussed at all in the Metro area. I'll try to blog a bit more on that in the future.

If this new home allows Patrick Hughes to quit having to be carried everywhere, that's a winner in my book.

I do have to wonder why the college guy seems to get lifted everywhere by his dad. Hughes the father, were he of a different mindset, perhaps, could use his son not so much as a public inspiration but as a way to draw attention to the things that should be accessible, but aren't.

Now that would be a real act of love -- with presents for a lot more folks than just one family.

Access isn't the whole story: The Bardstown Bristol furor

The Bristol Bar & Grille, at 1321 Bardstown Rd, has always been know for having a great accessible entrance, even back before it became mandatory. What the management did was slope the sidewalk up right at the entrance so it's a nice ramped grade. There's a rising grade inside, too. Easy to get into.

However, an accessible entrance is sometimes only part of the story.

A number of folks are backing Corey Nett who says management at the Bardstown Rd. Bristol asked him to move because his disability -- he has CP -- was disturbing other diners. Nett, a staffer in County Attorney Irv Maze's office, has filed a lawsuit under the Americans with Disabilities Act.

More on this story here and here.

Cumberland's Gap

Every time I go past Cumberland Brews (1576 Bardstown Rd.) I wonder what happened to the lawsuit that I thought MetroSweep had filed against these folks. Never hear anything about it.

The place is inaccessible -- bunch o' steps at the front, and right on the sidewalk. But there's a nice walkthrough on the side of the building and a ramp could be put in there.

But years go by and nothing changes.

You gotta wonder what goes through management's heads about things like this. Don't they care?