It happened again! Returning to my home airport from a weeklong business trip, it appears that somebody moved the elevators. “Impossible” you say? That's what I once thought, but it has happened far too often to be a coincidence or a fluke. I'll grant you that it would be difficult to do, but I think that--at the very least--somebody is moving or hiding the elevator signs to make my life more difficult.

Here's what happened. I'm always the last one off the plane, due to the wait for my electric wheelchair to be brought to the door, and last week was no exception. Almost 30 minutes after the rest of my fellow passengers had headed for the main terminal to gather their baggage from the moving belt, I was finally able to start that trip myself. The big difference was that I did not have a crowd to follow, so was completely on my own except for my attendant who followed along behind me lugging our carry-on bags. He wasn't much use in orienteering, as he was simply following my lead.

There was also a complicating factor this time, as our flight took off and landed at one of the outside remote terminals commonly found in large airports. That required the use of a subterranean computer-controlled train to reach the main terminal and potentially two or three elevator rides to find our baggage. Did I mention that the train was computer-controlled, so no real operator was present to answer questions? It also stopped at two other remote terminals besides the main terminal where baggage could be collected, and these destinations were identified with such explanatory terms as ‘north, south, east or west.’ If you have ever tried to figure out a compass direction while traveling in a circle on an underground train without a compass you know how confusing that can be.

I'm good at directions but, looking at the map on the train, it appeared that baggage could be retrieved at two of the train stops. How was that possible? The train announcement was no help, as this international airport required all announcements to be repeated in about eight languages. I'm sure that English was one of them, but I must have missed it. The end result was that I got off at one of the other remote terminals: at least I think I did.

After finding an elevator and getting up to the main floor, there were signs identifying baggage being available in both directions. We headed right, in the same direction as other travelers who looked tired from a long flight. It was the right choice, but a long walk.

While there might be four escalators serving a particular change in elevation, there is likely only one elevator and it is often placed in a hidden location nowhere near the main route of travel used by the rest of the traveling public. The word ELEVATOR is not always present either, as those signs are being replaced with up and down arrows located in an oblong rectangle. These are very similar to the rectangles used on signs identifying restrooms and baggage, so you need to be alert.

Tucked behind corners, hidden in cul-de-sacs or in cubbyholes, there are few alternatives if an elevator breaks down. It is not easy to overcome the difficulties encountered when confronted with a broken elevator in an airport. On an earlier trip, we had to take another train ride—to a separate remote terminal which had an elevator that could get us off the train level.

On this trip, we encountered two nonfunctioning elevators, rode down on another one that unloaded us into the back room of the customs inspection section and rode up on one with a pushbutton that was marked Baggage. When the elevator door opened we could see the baggage carousels through a window, but the only way to get there was to take an escalator to an upper or lower floor.

We finally retrieved our suitcases about an hour after our flight landed. We did encounter one more problem when the escalator to and from the parking garage was broken down, which required people carrying luggage to their cars to carry it up what amounted to a stairway—or to ride the nearby elevator. Every time the elevator arrived, it was already packed full of weary travelers and their luggage; no room for me and mine.

In retrospect, airport designers should be sentenced to a lifelong ban on riding escalators or using stairways in airports. Perhaps then they would plan for multiple elevators located on the most direct routes, and clearly marked.

A later discussion may concern another pet peeve of mine: those architects who think it’s cute to hide or camouflage the locations of power-assisted door pushbuttons.

© 2010 Michael Collins

While I originally started this post in response to some concerns expressed by a fellow quad who has not flown since his injury, it's probably good to remind everyone what we can expect when we venture into the 'friendly skies' in this era of whittled down airline service. In the past two weeks we have learned about a frequent flyer with CP who was removed from a flight because an airline employee deemed him to be too disabled to fly alone.

Unfortunately for the airline, a special adviser to the Secretary of the federal Department of Transportation has faced similar challenges in the past and will not stand by when those of us who are disabled are denied service. Richard Devylder was born without arms or legs, and has flown hundreds of times while working California State government jobs. Early in his public service career, Richard was denied service on an airline whose employees felt that he was also too disabled to fly alone. He challenged that denial through the complaint process, prevailed in his appeal, and received courteous service from that particular airline on numerous trips during the following years..
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Nowadays, air travel can be a challenge for anyone. When you add the complication of a disability to the mix, many more things can go wrong. The alternative is simply staying home, or restricting your adventures to local activities. That's not always an attractive alternative.

You can fly, safely, with good advance planning and supports in case something goes wrong enroute. Take along a family member or attendant who is familiar with you, your equipment and hopefully the processes involved in traveling with a wheelchair. Being forearmed with knowledge of the Air Carrier Access Act is a big help, as many of the problematic people you encounter during the trip think they are experts but in reality don't know what the law requires. That information is available in a handy booklet (Rights of Air Travelers with Disabilities) at the website of the Federal Aviation Administration at the Department of Transportation.

Always arrive earlier than you think you need to, and pre-identify vendors in your destination city in case something goes wrong regarding the operation of your wheelchair, breathing equipment, or medical care if you require a specialist of some type.

Remember that a trip includes more than just the flight. You need to plan for the best means of getting to the airport, as well as the transportation you'll need to get to your hotel or other lodging location when you arrive. It might also be necessary to have someone familiar with your needs check out that destination hotel to be sure it is fully accessible to you and your power wheelchair if you use one. Do you need a roll-in shower? Will you be taking a shower chair or bench with you, or do you need to have one supplied locally? By contacting a local Independent Living Center, or even the venues themselves, it should be pretty easy to determine the accessibility of whatever sites you plan to visit.

I hate to say it again, but to repeat what I've said many times in the past: plan far ahead, arrive everywhere very early, expect challenges, and stay in control when things go wrong. In the end, those steps can make your travel rewarding and enjoyable--or at least bearable.

When things go wrong despite our best efforts, it is important to follow the procedures set in place to protect us. If you encounter difficulties getting on or off the plane, or if some employee decides to challenge you or those who assist you, make an immediate request to speak with the gate agent. While they can often resolve such situations, they may be part of the problem as well. In that case, ask to speak to the airline's terminal agent. That person is in charge of all passenger operations and should have enough knowledge of the law to correct the situation.

If there is damage to your wheelchair or to your luggage, it is important to speak to the Complaint Resolution Officer who must be on duty at all times. They can help you fill out a complaint or damage form, and must be able to identify a local vendor who can make necessary repairs to damaged equipment. The airlines have an obligation to make temporary replacement of any mobility equipment that is damaged to the point that it is inoperable, although there may be a bit of time involved until such repairs can be completed.

If any aspect of the airline's portion of your travel is unsatisfactory, write a letter to the airline's Director of Customer Service when you get home. Be sure to provide a copy to the Federal Aviation Administration at the address found on their website, so they can track airline performance and help you resolve the situation if there is a violation of the Air Carrier Access Act or other rules regarding passenger travel. Without those letters, there may be the mistaken impression that all passengers with disabilities are being flown without a hitch.

Flying today is neither easy or cheap. As travelers with disabilities who are paying added fees and high fares, we have the right to expect that we will be treated with respect and given the same consideration as our fellow travelers. When problems arise, at least the law is on our side so know what it is and use it to your advantage. Travel safely.

© 2010 Michael Collins
 

World’s Best Grandpa?
by RoboDad

It has been almost 23 years since I lost my ability to walk after a spinal cord injury. In the last decade, some things have changed. My two daughters have grown up, married, and blessed me with three grandsons. I know that they didn't have those grandsons for me, but the impact is the same.

My daughters re-named me RoboDad. After my injury, I reverted to utilizing wheels to get around, and many other useful adaptations to accomplish the necessary activities of daily living. I didn’t realize at the time that those adaptations would one day allow me to claim the title of “the best grandpa” in the eyes of my three grandsons.

There is a lot of competition for that title, even in our small family. Because of our society's propensity to divorce, my grandsons now have three grandfathers and three grandmothers. However, none of the others can offer the attributes I bring to a grandfather/grandson relationship.

Young boys are fascinated by wheels, and my life revolves around wheels. Wheelchairs lower me to a kid-friendly height, so I do not need to stoop for an eye to eye conversation. We can hold hands while walking together because it only takes me one hand to steer, and there is always some spare wheelchair around for them to play with--even without me present.

Touring museums, visiting the zoo or walking through the mall can be tiring, especially for a child with short legs. Riding with me in my wheelchair van makes that walk from the accessible parking spaces to the door of the theater, mall or stadium much shorter as well. As the first body to be loaded on an airplane, my young boarding party benefits from that early access as well. However, they don’t appreciated being the last ones off the plane any more than I do.

As RoboDad, I can provide a benefit that those other grandparents can't: lap rides. Besides taking a load off tired little feet, it provides the added benefit of allowing previously unreachable objects to become reachable.

The power wheelchair that allows me to roll alongside sprinting grandsons is not the only treat that RoboDad can provide. The many switches and remote controls that operate everything from wheelchair accessories to the lift on my van are objects that fascinate my grandsons. They have learned to pick up objects with my reachers, and are begging me for rides on the new lift that hangs from my bedroom ceiling.

Video games are very popular today, but it has been just as much fun to have three grandsons standing beside me as I demonstrate the capabilities of NaturallySpeaking™ for them. I compose stories that use their names, and they even tell me what to write. Because of this exposure, I am a bit worried that the next generation will lose the ability to type, as everything they do will be voice-activated.

Being the most popular grandfather comes with some responsibilities as well. I’m used to answering questions from curious kids as I roll through the community. Was it Art Linkletter who said “Kids ask the darnedest things” or something similar? I always answer their questions, despite their mothers trying to drag them away. They deserve those answers.

Because I believe in keeping younger generations informed about what might lie ahead, I recently (and gladly) accepted the invitation to attend my grandson’s school as his “show and tell” for the week. The other preschoolers were fascinated by my demonstration of tilt and recline, as well as my ability to spin in place with the flick of a wrist. We all learned that a couple of other students also had grandparents who used wheelchairs—but not as cool as mine, of course. After a lively question and answer period, the entire class followed me to the parking lot for a demonstration of the wheelchair lift and me locking into place to drive away. My grandson insisted on holding my hand on the way to the van, which made the experience even better for me. I have promised to do the same for my other grandsons when school starts again.

Any grandparent can provide a kitchen drawer full of snacks, a swing set in the backyard, and a chest full of favorite toys in the family room. Only RoboDad can go beyond that level by providing access to the unique accessories and activities offered by life in a wheelchair. I rest my case.

© 2010 Michael Collins