I was there . . .
David Wittie
Las Vegas, 1994
David Wittie reads his narrative.
So many years, actions, and friends have passed me since ADAPT showed up for the
showdown with the American Health Care Association (AHCA) in Las Vegas in
October of 1994. And since it was only my fifth national action since first
becoming involved with ADAPT in 1992, I was STILL very green and very much in
awe of so many folks coming together with such determination.
Our Texas group arrived at the airport late Sunday afternoon and we must have
waited what seemed like two hours in the parking lot (sound familiar?) for our
ride to the hotel. But this turned out to be a good thing because, still being
fairly new, I got to meet some “old timers” from all over who “had a clue” about
what we were about to face. I had grown up in desert country and really was
enjoying the beautiful sunset when I remembered why I had brought my FM radio
along on the plane. A nationally syndicated disability program was broadcasting
in Las Vegas and I was determined to hear it. As rare as ANY disability-related
program was at the time, this particular one was especially interesting because,
as it turned out, they were talking about US – ADAPT – and our issues! We hadn’t
even left the airport parking lot and our message was being spread in interviews
and songs! This was very, very cool!
When we reached the hotel, I just knew someone had made a mistake. We were
staying at the glitziest hotel I’d ever been in. I seemed to recognize the
brightly lit driveway from many movies and tourist films I had seen before. It
was overwhelming my senses. You could bet it wouldn’t last, though. Soon enough,
ADAPT buckled down to business.
By the next day, many of our folks were hard at work in the faces of AHCA
conventioneers. And by Tuesday, all 400 of us were on the march to spread the
word in our own press conference. The demand was simple – redirect 25% of
Medicaid dollars currently going into nursing homes back into home and
community-based attendant service. By now in my life, this was a mantra. Real
people told their real-life stories of struggling with nursing homes and
uncaring staff. I had personally but only briefly experienced some of the same
struggle eight years earlier. It was all too real to me.
Most of the next few days have blurred together into memories of lengthy
takeovers of busy intersections, the Las Vegas Convention Center, and AHCA’s
hotel. I distinctly recall Reverend Willie leading prayers at the base of a
large wooden cross from which a wheelchair was hung – symbolizing the many human
sacrifices made to the nursing home industry. And I remember the next day, after
the cross was erected again near AHCA’s convention; the police briskly came and
STOLE it from us, fearing it might be used as a battering ram to bust into the
secured building. They had already witnessed how Anita Cameron and some others
were capable of breaking and entering past their supposedly first-class security
teams.
I remember a life-size statue memorializing Elvis, huge dancing fountains, a
giant shiny black pyramid in the desert, all-u-can-eat steak buffets, the glitz
and glitter of Fremont Street, and the rat-mazes of the casinos. But probably
the best image was of the look of disbelief on that man’s face as he tried to
pass out copies of injunctions – court orders – to 400 proud protesters. We
completely ignored his demands that we cease and desist our march up the
Convention Center driveway. We refused (and continue to refuse) to stop
protesting AHCA’s unjust gambling with the lives of our brothers and sisters
just to make another buck.
"Final count - 486 arrests. It was Paradise. FREE OUR PEOPLE!"