Brad Linnenkamp, 36, knows all about the letter.

“It’s coming,” he said from the seat of the motorized wheelchair he needs because of his cerebral palsy.

The letter – it should arrive in a few days – will say he’s being dropped from a Medicaid waiver program that pays an attendant to help him do laundry, buy groceries and tidy up his spartan apartment.

If he’s going to get help, he’ll have to find another way to pay for it.

Welfare officials last month announced that 350 people in circumstances similar to Linnenkamp’s were being dropped from the program as part of the Department of Social and Rehabilitation Services’ plan to cut $26.6 million from its $2.2 billion budget.

Gov. Bill Graves ordered the reduction to head off a $312 million shortfall projected for this year’s budget.

Dropping the 350 people – all of them low-income – is expected to save the state about $335,000 between Feb. 1 and June 30.

Ever the optimist, Linnenkamp figures he’s one of the lucky ones. He has a part-time job, so he’s not as poor as some. He can dress and bathe himself. He can’t drive, but he can ride the bus, assuming the weather cooperates.

Skipping food, heat

When he runs short of money, he figures he can put off eating for a while and maybe go without heat.

“The hardest thing for me is doing laundry,” he said. “Where I live, the washer and dryer aren’t all that accessible and the dryer doesn’t always work, so sometimes I come home with damp clothes.”

Others aren’t so fortunate.

“I’m really worried,” said Beth Chao, a waiver program coordinator at Independence Inc., a Lawrence-based program that helps people with physical disabilities maintain their independence.

“We have a lot of people out there who are going to try to go it alone but, because of their conditions, are going to end up in the emergency room,” she said.

It’s not yet known how many of the 350 people live in Douglas County. Chao on Wednesday learned she’s being laid off effective Jan. 10.

The cut doesn’t affect everybody receiving aid. Instead, its based on scores tied to assessments of each person’s disabilities.

Generally, those scoring between 16 and 30 need help with chores, mainly grocery shopping, cooking, laundry and taking their medications on schedule.

Those scoring above 30 tend to need help bathing, dressing, eating, getting in and out of bed or using the bathroom.

After Feb. 1:

⢠Those with scores between 16 and 25 will no longer be eligible for attendants.

⢠New applicants will have to score 30 or higher to get into the program.

⢠Those in the program whose scores are between 26 and 30 will be “grandfathered in.”

Linnenkamp’s 2002 score is 17. For him, the program is now out of reach.

“This whole thing makes me so mad,” said Linnenkamp’s attendant, Brenda Allen. “If he ends up going to a nursing home, the state’ll end up paying two or three thousand dollars a month – but they won’t spend a tenth of that to let him stay in his own place. It doesn’t make sense.”

Doing their parts

Today, Allen spends about 11 hours a week with Linnenkamp. For that, she’s paid $193 every two weeks.

“That comes to about $9.40 an hour,” she said.

Allen said that after Feb. 1 she’ll probably “get a fast-food job” and continue to drop in on Linnenkamp – for free.

“I’ll do my part,” she said. “For me this really isn’t about money; Brad’s a friend now.”

Allen said she’s waiting for lawmakers to do their part.

“You know, in all the talk about the budget cuts and how there’s no money, I haven’t heard any of them – the governor and the Legislature – say they’ll take a cut in pay. Oh, no, I don’t see that, all I see are people like Brad being put on the chopping block. It’s revolting; there’s no excuse for it.”

Legislators take home more than $150 a day in salary and stipends.

Lawrence-area legislators are sensitive to Allen’s criticism.

“This is obviously a horrible situation we’re in,” said Rep. Troy Finley, D-Lawrence.

Rep. Tom Sloan, R-Lawrence, said that when the Legislature convenes Jan. 13 there’ll be an effort to restore many of the SRS cuts, including those affecting Linnenkamp.

“I’m hoping we can protect our most vulnerable citizens,” Sloan said.

To pay for the restoration, Sloan and Findley both said they’d support moving money from public school spending into social services.

“No one wants to go there – and my name is at the top of that list,” Findley said. “But at some point, when schools account for $2.3 billion in a $4.1 billion state general fund and when we start impacting critical programs, I don’t think we can turn a blind eye.”

Said Sloan, “Schools are going to be on the table.”

Neither Sloan nor Findley were willing to predict the effort’s chances for success.

Tax plan

To make sure they’re heard, advocates for those affected by the cuts are putting together a $100 million tax package they’re hoping to propose early in the 2003 legislative session.

“We have to do something,” said Gina McDonald, president and CEO at Kansas Association of Centers for Independent Living. “It’s unbelievable what’s going on, but when you talk to legislators about it, they say there’s no money and shrug their shoulders. Well, that’s not an answer.”

The group – tentatively called “The Big Tent” – is putting together a package aimed at restoring the cuts in the state’s 2004 budget, which begins July 1.

“Historically, when things are tight the different groups that lobby the Legislature turn on one another – you hear things like, âÂÂ’Cut roads and highways, not us,'” said Robert Harder, former welfare secretary (1969-1987) and a member of the group.

“We’re not going to do that. We’re going to put together a package that’s very specific in how to raise revenue and how those revenues are to be spent. We’re not going to pit ourselves against anybody,” said Harder, now a lobbyist for United Methodist Church of Kansas.

“We’re going to go after the grassroots because if the folks back home aren’t stirred up, this isn’t going anywhere. Legislators have got to hear from their constituents.”