Transportation cuts will leave disabled people in St. Louis area stranded

From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch:

BALLWIN, Mo. — Stuart and Dianne Falk love the local theater. The production. The writing. The performing.

Though both have multiple sclerosis and use wheelchairs to get around, the couple still eagerly take the stage whenever they get the chance.

"There is such a sense of family and community and mutual support, it makes the disability go away," Stuart Falk says. "It's a wonderful release."

The Falks work with the DisAbility Project, a theatrical ensemble that performs sketches to bring awareness about living with a disability: What it's like to get a wheelchair through the door of a coffeehouse, or find a job, or find a parking space.

Now, they have a new topic — how to find an affordable ride.The financially ailing Metro transit agency will slash its Call-A-Ride service on March 30, shrinking the area where it can serve those with special needs at subsidized rates.

The Falks live in a nursing home in St. Louis County that won't be near a transit stop after the service cuts, so their only option would be to pay at least five times the current round-trip fare of $8. That leaves them with a choice that is really no choice at all — pay the dramatically higher price for a ride or stay home.

"I can't wrap my brain around what it's going to be like to be frozen in here," says Stuart Falk, 46.

The Falks are among many with disabilities who are the most vulnerable to cuts in public transportation that are sweeping the country. Advocates for the disabled say there's a growing sense of fear about the looming cuts in St. Louis.

"By cutting back public transportation, you are limiting their ability to be independent," said Elizabeth Leef, policy analyst with the National Council on Independent Living.

Medicaid covers trips to the doctor, but for most everything else, the Falks are on their own. The couple rely on Call-A-Ride to get to Paraquad offices, where they take part in weekly theater rehearsals and work out on accessible exercise equipment.

They also use Call-A-Ride to whisk them to religious services, too. Dianne attends the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Chesterfield. Twice a month, Stuart tries to attend services with the Shir Hadash Reconstructionist Community in St. Louis.

The couple share a room at West County Care Center. Their modest quarters is filled with pictures. Some are from the couple's wedding at the nursing home. There's one from Fenway Park in Boston. Another shows a much younger Stuart Falk running through the streets of Boston. Raised in New York, he ran a number of races, mostly 10Ks.

He earned a philosophy degree in 1985 from Northeastern University in Boston, and aspired to become a chiropractor. He and his first wife moved to St. Louis, where he attended Logan College of Chiropractic, but he had to quit because of the toll multiple sclerosis had taken on his body. The marriage fizzled.

Dianne grew up in Ballwin and graduated from Webster University in 1991 with a communications degree. Dianne was in her mid-20s when she learned she had multiple sclerosis.

She lived with her parents for a few months after her first marriage ended, then moved into the nursing home about eight years ago. When Stuart moved into the home in 2005, he was soon introduced to Dianne by a mutual acquaintance who arranged for Stuart to perform a comedy routine.

The laughs led to love, and it was Dianne, now 40, who took the initiative and asked Stuart to marry her. Stuart recalls the April 2006 wedding as a beautiful party.

"The place just sparkled," he recalls. Today, the couple live in a place where they are youngsters compared to the other residents.

And money is tight. After the nursing home gets its share of the couple's Social Security disability benefits, the Falks are left with about $30 apiece each month, Stuart says. Their families help out, but it's not enough to cover the cost of paratransit once Call-A-Ride's subsidized service goes away. The Falks have looked for nursing homes inside the Interstate 270 loop. So far, they haven't found one.

Stuart and Dianne say they need their time away from their nursing home. It's an environment for retirees, Stuart says — and that's not them.

"I need more than this place offers," he says. "I need to get out. I need fresh air. I need other people. I need other places."

Dianne says the DisAbility troupe is like extended family.

"My heart is just totally aching because I realized that the theater group is gone for Stuart," she says. "I am just disheartened."

They have written letters to local politicians. Dianne spoke up at a recent meeting with Metro officials at Paraquad, a nonprofit center for independent living.Metro officials say they wish more could be done, but the funds aren't available.

The agency's financial problems were worsening even before the banking collapse last year. Metro was struck by a combination of sagging subsidies and rising operational costs. The recession has only magnified the agency's problems by eroding sales tax collections and dimming the prospects of restoring services that are being cut.

"It's going to be lousy," said Patricia Hall, Metro's director of ADA services. "It's not going to get us to all the places where we want to go."

The Falks know all about that. While making dinner plans last week, Stuart and Dianne discussed what life will be like without Call-A-Ride. Without their theater troupe. Without the gym. Without church.

"So much to give up at once," Stuart says. "It's like going to prison, and I didn't commit any crime."