Resident reveals building’s shortfalls to aid handicapped

Bruce Wilcox turned his portable oxygen tank up to its highest level before we left the parking lot. The Lilburn resident — a retired upstate New York firefighter — suffers from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Makes it hard to breathe. He e-mailed me recently because he wanted me to see what he thinks the handicapped, physically challenged or elderly residents wade through when they have business at the Gwinnett Justice and Administrative Center. Like he had recently.

When it comes to handicapped access, Wilcox thinks GJAC, located off Langley Drive in Lawrenceville, the county seat, leaves a lot to be desired. And it starts with the parking lot.

The handicapped spaces are located up front and center of the massive parking lot. The county building is a good football field’s walk away, across a street that the county closed as a post 9-11 safety measure. The walkway has intricate designs, not cobblestone, but something close.

“Deadly,” surmised Wilcox. “Have you ever tripped on one?”

The walkway winds straight through the middle of the smoking section. On a recent Thursday — and it was lunchtime — hardly a soul was around. On Wilcox’s previous visit, though, he said smokers were thick. “It is really, really an insult,” he said, “especially when you’re carrying an oxygen tank.”

We made our way across the closed and barricaded street and headed toward the building’s entrance. The middle set of doors are handicapped-accessible, via a button that must to be pressed. It was the only set of doors in the entire building that granted such access.

After we went through security, Wilcox needed to rest. The only three visible chairs available on the first floor were located near Probate Court. Nary a one was designated for the handicapped.

Once inside, you’re on your own to struggle with some heavy doors. You have to push the doors to enter and pull them to exit. People in wheelchairs, on walkers or who have other disabilities tend to have weak arms and legs, so the doors at the administrative center are more like barriers than gateways.

We caught the elevator to check out the upstairs, notably courtroom access. “Do you think someone could get a wheelchair through there?” Wilcox asked. He pointed to a door that would be a tight squeeze for a super model, much less a motorized chair.
When we took the elevator back downstairs, Wilcox talked about how grocery stores provide wheelchairs for shoppers. Maybe the administrative center should do likewise. Turned out, it does. Back on the first floor, he asked a sheriff’s deputy if any wheelchairs were available for the public to use. The polite female officer said there was one. She rushed off to get it before Wilcox could tell her that he was just inquiring.

Outside, we started back across the closed-off street and headed for the parking lot. Wilcox needed to rest, so we stopped at the only bench twixt the parking lot and entrance.
As he rested, we talked about the minor modifications that could be made in and around the building to grant better mobility. At one time, a vacant strip of property near the front of the center was the designated for handicapped parking.

All that changed after the 9-11 terrorist attacks. “I realize after 9-11 there had to be some steps taken,” Wilcox had written in his e-mail, “but this is a little over the top. Think about those in walkers and wheelchairs traveling in the rain that far. Handicapped parking is way too far from the building.”

For the good of the community, Wilcox hopes the county will consider: erecting more benches along the walkway and reserve some for the handicapped; adding more automatic doors; building a shelter or kiosk with a phone so residents in the parking lot can call the lobby and request a wheelchair or assistance, moving the smoking area.
“Please,” he said.