Autistic boy to get apology from Halifax public transit

David Croft demanded a public apology from Metro Transit with how they dealt with an incident involving their eight-year-old autistic son Izaak.

By The Canadian Press

HALIFAX, N.S. — The public transit authority in Halifax will issue a formal apology to an autistic boy after his family complained about a city bus driver who refused to continue driving unless the eight-year-old stopped screaming, his mother says.

But it was unclear Friday night if an apology will actually occur.

Charlene Croft said Metro Transit agreed this week to draft a written apology for her son Izaak after she and her husband David met with two transit officials.

“All parties agreed that the situation was handled poorly,” Charlene Croft said in a blog entry posted Thursday. “It will be an apology for the mere fact that this happened in the first place and that it spiralled out of control in the way that it did.”

The blog says Metro Transit has also agreed to apologize to Izaak’s day camp director and to produce tip sheets for bus drivers and passengers on how to deal with autistic behaviour.

Lori Patterson, a Metro Transit spokesperson, said Friday that transit officials did meet with the family but she didn’t refer to what the company will do as an apology.

“The meeting gave a chance for both parties to give an airing of the incident from their perspective and it went very well,” she said. “Both sides appeared to be satisfied at the conclusion of the meeting.”

Patterson acknowledged that the family asked for an apology but Metro Transit agreed to send the child a letter “acknowledging that any incident like this is unfortunate.”

She said Metro Transit still stands behind the driver’s account of what happened “but we agreed to the meeting because the parents obviously weren’t there” when it occurred.

David Croft has said his son, who he described as classically autistic with no ability to speak, was on a field trip with about two dozen autistic children and their counsellors last week when the group boarded a bus in downtown Halifax.

He said Izaak is sometimes over-stimulated by loud noises, certain smells and large groups of people.

“He doesn’t have language, so when he’s expressing frustration, it tends to come out as screams,” David Croft said in an earlier interview.

During the first five minutes of the bus ride, counsellors did their best to calm Izaak as he screamed, but David Croft said the driver complained that the piercing noise was making it difficult for him to drive.

Izaak left the bus with his counsellor and the camp’s director. The other children and counsellors stepped off a few stops later.

Metro Transit has said images and audio recorded by a surveillance camera show the driver did not ask the boy to leave the bus. Transit service officials have insisted the driver was simply doing his best to ensure passenger safety.

Charlene Croft said Metro Transit has declined to show the couple the surveillance tape.

She said the meeting Thursday was “productive and positive,” but there was disagreement over Metro Transit’s claim that passenger safety was compromised by Izaak’s disruptive behaviour.

“Developmentally, Izaak’s behaviour, social cognition and impulse control is closer to that of a toddler, rather than an almost nine-year-old child,” she said.

“Therefore … it was like asking someone with an inconsolable baby/toddler to leave the bus.”

In his own blog, David Croft challenged Metro Transit’s assertion that its driver did not specifically ask Izaak to leave the bus.

“Personally … I thought this was a semantic point because the driver had created a situation where there was little choice — due to authoritative and social pressure — but to remove Izaak from the bus,” he wrote.

“So the driver hadn’t explicitly used the words, ‘off the bus.’ (But) there are a thousand and one ways to say a thing without actually having to say it.”

Still, David Croft said the meeting left him convinced the transit authority was willing to make constructive changes to better serve those with neurological disorders.

“Although it was a sometimes emotional meeting — Charlene cried once or twice and my voice raised as I had a renewed, but brief, fury at the notion that Izaak had been on the bus for just 3.5 to five minutes total before the driver could take no more — it was also a highly productive meeting,” he wrote.

The transit service has also committed to reach out to the region’s autism community to let parents know about the Access-A-Bus program, a service that uses specially equipped buses to provide rides to the disabled.

Charlene Croft said she had been told earlier that Izaak was not eligible for the service.

However, she stressed that access to the service would not have prevented last week’s incident because Izaak was with a day camp group that regularly uses city buses to get around town.

“Parents of autistic children and autistic adults do require more resources than most, and that always puts the status quo on edge,” she said in her blog.

“But one resource that parents of autistic children need the most of all doesn’t even require tangible capital a Community acceptance and tolerance can go a very long way.”

Autism, which is also known as autism spectrum disorder, is a neurological disorder that results in unusual patterns of behaviour, difficulties with communication and social interaction.

The Autism Society of Canada says the complex disorder affects at least one in every 200 Canadian children and the number of reported cases has risen by 150 per cent in the past six years.

Autistic North Hardin student found “safe and sound” early this morning

A citywide search for an autistic North Hardin High School student yielded results early Saturday morning.

Sharon Kiely, 15, was found around 12:25 a.m. behind Meadow View Elementary School, Radcliff Police Department spokesman Bryce Shumate said.

“She was safe and sound, no injuries,” Shumate said, adding she was just “tired and hungry.”

Kiely went missing early Friday afternoon from the grounds of the school after last being seen in a restroom. Shumate said police believe she wandered away from the school and do not suspect foul play. The girl has a history of hiding inside the school, Shumate said Friday, and does not verbally communicate with others.

Kiely’s disappearance led to a massive search that spanned more than 10 hours, with both police and fire departments responding from all over the county. Bloodhounds also were employed.

In addition, Louisville Metro Police sent a helicopter for additional assistance, canine units from Jefferson County were dispatched and Kentucky Search and Rescue provided aid.

At one point, Shumate continued, there were about 80 responders searching for Kiely, working from a grid map of the city. The group was divided into teams and assigned to specific areas.

“There were teams literally all over Radcliff,” Shumate said.

Shumate said a search of this magnitude could not have been possible by Radcliff responders alone.

“I’ve never seen that kind of a community effort before,” Shumate said.

Four of mother’s five children have special educational needs

DEALING with one child who has autism or learning difficulties can be difficult enough.

So the challenges faced by Yvette Thibault on a daily basis are almost too tough to imagine.

The single mum, aged 37, has five children — and four of them have special educational needs.

Antoinette, aged 11, and Corbin, aged five, have autism.

Paige Autumn, aged nine, has learning difficulties and four-year-old Luca has language and hearing problems. Saerun, aged three, is being monitored but is doing well so far.

Miss Thibault, aged 37, is a full-time carer for her children and wants to raise awareness of the problems autism causes.

She said: “It’s very hard work. Nobody has a clue what I have to go through every single day.

“I’m on my own and it means I’m housebound. It’s a nightmare trying to take them all out, so we pretty much stay at home.

“It’s very stressful. Antoinette and Corbin try everything. They have no awareness of danger and I can’t leave them for two minutes.

“Luca has a fascination with windows and I’m terrified he’ll fall out of one. Antoinette is lazy and gets angry and aggressive — and I’ve got three younger ones too.”

The family, who live in Avenue Street, Heaton, get support from Bolton Council, with social services and nurses visiting them, but Miss Thibault says life is still difficult.

Autism is a lifelong developmental disability which affects the way a person communicates and relates to others around them.

Sufferers have difficulties with everyday social interaction.

The cause of autistic spectrum disorders is not clear. However, it has been established that genetics play an important role.

It is likely autism occurs when a small number of genes interact in a specific way, possibly linked to some external event or factor.

The condition is being heavily researched.

Although caring for her children is hard work, Miss Thibault says it is rewarding and she wants other parents to see it is possible to cope with children who have autism.

She said: “They drive me bonkers but I love them so much. I’m just frightened for their safety.

“I’m not giving up, I’m just looking for more help. My advice to others is to keep smiling, just keep going.”

Special ed aide inspires student hikers

Hikers with autism, Down syndrome mark trail with memorable moments.

Hiking 800 feet above the azure sea off South Laguna, Louis Wallace turns around at the sound of his name and stops.

"Hey Louis, wait up," leader Anthony Palmeri shouts.

"You're a strong hiker," I yell ahead while standing next to Palmeri, a 25-year-old Mission Viejo resident and graduate of the University of California, Irvine.

Wallace grins.

"Yes I am," he hollers back, raising clenched fists in the air and striking a pose that would make a body builder proud.

It's an honest and beautiful moment in a hike filled with honest, beautiful moments. It's Saturday morning, and Palmeri has invited me along one of his weekly hikes with three young men he has come to know through his job as a special education aide at Tesoro High School in South Orange County.

Today, we're on one of Palmeri's favorite outdoor gems, a wide path called Laguna Ridge Trail that starts at Badlands Park and offers a continuous feed of magnificent views of the coast from Monarch Point.

As we head south, we pass a series of large homes on the left that hug the ridgeline high above Pacific Island Drive. On our right, there is a drop-off that could make lesser men turn to jelly. But the hikers we're with have nerves of steel. They also happen to have what some call special needs. Wallace has Down syndrome.

Andrew Dennison is next to me. His eyes sparkle like the ocean below us, and an easy smile lights up his face. A sturdy 20-year-old, his hands flutter from his stomach to his mouth and to his nose. Then they make the journey again.

Dennison, who lives with his parents in Coto de Caza and is in adult transition at Saddleback College, doesn't seem to say much. But I hardly notice. His happy countenance communicates everything.

As Wallace, 18, saunters back toward the group, Palmeri pauses to share a story of a recent trip to Las Vegas with Dennison's family. As a surprise present for Dennison's mom, Palmeri, one of Dennison's siblings and Dennison had "Happy" – "Birthday" – "Mom" hennaed across their three stomachs to look like tattoos.

Dennison punctuates the story by lifting his shirt to show off the "Mom" on his belly. He points to the nearly faded letters and beams.

Blake Bernardin, 16, is just behind. Like Dennison, Bernardin has autism and says little, but he's careful to stay with the group. I clap the Tesoro High School student on the back for being a solid outdoorsman. A tiny smile betrays his secret pride.

We start down a steep rocky trail that forks off from the groomed path.

"Which way should we choose?" I ask Wallace, a Rancho Santa Margarita resident. He studies the terrain. There is a stream of rocks in the middle. On the right, it's relatively clear save for scattered pebbles. On the left, sharp rocks poke through the ground.

"Over there," Wallace says, pointing left.

I'm impressed. Many people would have taken the path to the right – where the pebbles might as well be marbles. Buried rocks offer solid footing.

For the first few minutes of our hike, I wasn't sure how to talk around the young men. Then I remembered my days teaching Down kids to swim. Be yourself.

We make our way down the trail, holding one another's hands so we don't slip. The young men handle the sketchy section with calm and grace.

As we head back, the breeze dies down and the temperature picks up. We've been hiking more than an hour and everyone is a little sweaty, something which Bernardin mentions with some frequency.

"Try my drink, half water, half Gatorade," I offer.

Bernardin downs half the bottle It's a good reminder we all get a little cranky when we're dehydrated.

After the hike, I talk to the guys' parents. Raising any child is hard work, and these men and women, along with aides like Palmeri, are heroes in my book.

Roseann Bernardin of Trabuco Canyon shares that her son, Blake, loves swimming and riding his beach cruiser bicycle. Still, he struggles with fine motor skills and is only able to write his name.

I inquire about a scar that runs the length of her son's back and discover this teenager who navigated the tricky trail had a 45-degree curvature of the spine until an operation for scoliosis just a few years ago. Doctors inserted 23 screws and two rods. I wonder how I would have done hiking with that much metal.

Dennison's mother, Joni, reports Andrew, like most sons, loves playing video games, eating and riding four-wheel all-terrain "quads."

I mention Andrew didn't talk much during the hike, though clearly he had a great time. I'm a little stunned at what she says next.

"At 28 months, he went into his own world and stopped talking. He doesn't talk."

Reflecting back on the hike, I realize Dennison never said a word and I hadn't noticed.

His heart said it all.

David Whiting's column on people and places appears Tuesdays. He can be reached at 714-796-6869 or dwhiting@ocregister.com

Harbingers of Autism

Sharon Begley

The tragedy of autism is compounded by one fact that makes desperate parents wish they could turn back the hands of time: symptoms of the neurodevelopmental disorder typically show up when a child is 2 or 3 or even older, but by then it may be too late to prevent or reverse whatever glitches in brain development (still pretty much a mystery) underlie the disease. It is even on the late side for getting a child the behavioral interventions and special education that might mitigate some of the worst symptoms.



If scientists at the M.I.N.D. Institute of the University of California, Davis, are right, however, there may be a reliable warning sign of autism much earlier: how a child plays with his or her toys at the tender age of 12 months. In particular, scientists led by Sally Ozonoff will report in the journal Autism (it’s the October issue, but not out yet; keep checking the web site), children who were later diagnosed with autism were more likely to spin, repetitively rotate, stare at and look out of the corners of their eyes at toys such as a rattle.
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There is a big research effort aimed at picking up the earliest harbingers of autism. One of the most promising discoveries came in 2003, when researchers led by neuroscientist Eric Courchesne of the University of California, San Diego, concluded that an odd pattern of skull growth might be a tip to autism, as they described in a paper in the Journal of the American Medical Association. Children with autism, the scientists found, had a smaller head circumference at birth than healthy babies, and by 6 to 14 months their head circumference was in the 84th percentile, a huge increase and greater than the rate of increase in healthy children. “The clinical onset of autism appears to be preceded by 2 phases of brain growth abnormality: a reduced head size at birth and a sudden and excessive increase in head size between 1 to 2 months and 6 to 14 months,” the scientists wrote. “Abnormally accelerated rate of growth may serve as an early warning signal of risk for autism.” Still, the correlation wasn’t perfect: 6% of healthy infants in the study also showed abnormal head growth from birth to 6 to 14 months, and 41% of babies later diagnosed as autistic did not show that pattern.



The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that all infants be screened for autism twice before they are 2. Pediatricians look for language delays and lack of interest in people, such as not responding to their name and failing to make eye contact. But these can be present even when autism is not. The latest findings are not perfect either, but they are something parents can watch for every day rather than relying on—and waiting for—a short visit to the doctor. “There is an urgent need to develop measures that can pick up early signs of autism, signs present before 24 months,” Ozonoff says. “The finding that the unusual use of toys is also present early in life means that this behavior could easily be added to a parent check-list.”



For the study, Ozonoff recruited 66 1-year-olds; 9 were later diagnosed with autism. The children were given a metal lid, a round plastic ring, a rattle and a baby bottle, one at a time for 30 seconds each while being videotaped. Seven of the 9 later diagnosed with autism were more likely to repeatedly spin and rotate the objects. They were also more likely to look at them in unusual ways, like glancing sideways at them or staring intently at them for a long time—behaviors that were rare in babies not later diagnosed with autism. “About a third of parents notice signs [of autism] before a child’s first birthday,” Ozonoff said. “We felt that our field could do a better job at early diagnosis. Our results suggest that these particular behaviors might be useful to include in screening tests. The earlier you treat a child for autism, the more of an impact you can have on that child’s future.”