| It's come to this: I'm standing on the
sidewalk, talking to a guy in a van, who calls himself
Pastor Jim. In this neighborhood, it looks more like I'm
scoring a rock than buying a car. One of the
smartest things my stepfather did while he was alive was
to get insurance on his car loan. In the event of his
death, the loan would be paid off and his survivors
wouldn't have to worry about it. When he died in October
of 2000, I inherited this car. It lasted until July 2002.
At that point the alternator was dead, the starter was on
its way there, the brakes didn't work and it used as much
power steering fluid as it did gas. In essence, it didn't
start, didn't stop, and it didn't go where you wanted it
to. These are the essential activities for an automobile
-- this is why we drive.
When
I first called about the car in the paper, a young lady's
voice told me that I would have to talk to Pastor Jim.
"Great, not another holy roller, I just need to buy
a car." I can say that, because I used to be one.
But still...
July
2002
I borrow $1000 and buy a 1987 Chevy Nova. Harry tells me
that his wife bought the car new and only drove it in the
winter. He smells like alcohol - not like he's been
drinking that morning, but like he's been drinking his
whole life. He throws in a case of oil filters and 4 snow
tires.
July
2002
Cara backs into me. Scrapes the side of the car up, no
major damage. At least she's nice about it.
Pastor
Jim is wearing a white tuxedo jacket with rounded lapels.
In 1987, I think Pierre Cardin had this in a line called
the Miami Vice Collection. "Yep, another
holy roller," I think. See, I can say that, because
I guess I still am one.
October
2002 12:20 am
I am pulled over for a missing headlight. That's when I
learned that my license is suspended and the police
impound my car. It turns out that it is due to a clerical
error with the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. The clerk at the
BMV asks me to please lower my voice. I gain intimate
knowledge of the public transit system connecting Akron,
Barberton and Cleveland, Ohio. Four days and $130 later,
I have the car back.
November
2002
I go to court for the headlight/suspension ticket. The
suspension is dropped as long as I pay the headlight
ticket and court costs. The prosecutor explains,
"You're lucky that we're dropping the suspension
charges. That's saving you $250 plus points on your
license. Now can you please lower your voice?" $125
later, I return home.
At
first, I think Pastor Jim is wearing a turtleneck
sweater, but with a second look I realize that it's a
neck brace. He eats chocolate Easter eggs while pointing
to various cars for me to look at.
February
6, 2004
I am in a parking lot waiting to pull out on the street.
I'm sitting still behind an SUV when Leon decides to back
up quickly and crumples the front of my car. He gets out
and exclaims, "You gotta be shittin' me! Why were
you so close?" Dumbfounded, I reply, "Dude, you
just ran into me, and you're acting like it's my
fault?" The police don't issue a ticket because it
is on private property. Leon contends that I ran into
him.
February
9, 2004
Leon was driving his mother's car, which means that her
insurance company will be the one paying for damages. She
will not tell anyone who her insurance company is. She
hangs up on my insurance company. Leon refuses to answer
his phone. Once, I seriously suspect that I am leaving a
message for Leon with Leon.
February
16, 2004
Leon has decided that he will stonewall everyone,
including my insurance company and his own. His insurance
company stalls further. They are the experts at stalling
-- a good insurance adjuster can wait anyone out. They
need information from his mother, but her phone is
disconnected and letters are returned to sender.
March
8 2004
I call Leon's insurance company to find out when they are
going to pay, as it has been a month. The case is
assigned to a new adjuster.
A
Mercedes rolls by slowly. "Now THAT's a lot of car
right there," Pastor Jim remarks, then unwraps
another egg.
March
19, 2004
Leon's insurance company offers me $305 as a property
damage settlement. I'm quiet for half a minute before
telling Garland the Adjuster that I can't accept that. He
comments, "I'm not wearing my red suit today, so I
can't give out presents like Santa Claus."
March
12, 2004
Garland the Adjuster calls back and offers $501.33 as the
final offer. I tell him to send the papers over for me to
sign. They will be sent first to the wrong street address
and then to the wrong PO Box before finally being faxed
to me.
April
5, 2004
The brake fluid reservoir is empty, and the brakes are at
about 25% effectiveness. I decide to open the hood to put
brake fluid in. Half a bottle of brake fluid later, the
brakes are operating at 25% of their stopping power. This
will be the last time the hood was latched.
April
4, 2004 3:17 pm
Going down a hill, a gust of wind lifts the hood of the
car up and all the way backwards against the windshield.
I skid to a stop with no idea what is in front of me.
Fortunately nothing.
April
4, 2004 3:21pm
A block down the road -- another gust of wind. This time
I am more prepared to stop without being able to see what
is in front of me. With a little practice, I could
actually be good at it. A bungee cord from the
trunk secures the hood for the ride home. Oddly, I've
never seen the bungee cord before today.
April
5, 2004
I'm standing on the sidewalk, next to Pastor Jim's van,
leaning over and discussing his cars. He doesn't get out
of the van. He makes me run back and forth between his
van and the office to get keys and ask the mechanic
questions. Eventually, he directs me to a car that is
parked a in a driveway a block over. When I come back, he
tells me stories of growing up with 9 brothers and
sisters, cramming 12 people into the car to go to church
on Sunday mornings; he and 4 of his brothers slept
sideways in the same bed. While he talks, I notice the
wheelchair in the back of the van.
When I
tell him about my accident and Leon's insurance company,
Pastor Jim has a story of his own. He was in an accident
with a drunk driver and has been in a wheelchair with
limited use of his legs for three and a half years. The
doctor told him it was unlikely that he'd be able to use
his legs or arms after the accident. After multiple
surgeries, neither his insurance company nor the other
driver's have paid anything. Aside from the physical pain
and the limitations of the wheelchair, he and his wife
struggled to pay the bills when was unable to work. When
I first introduced myself and asked, "How are
you?" his smiling reply was, "Blessed and
highly favored of the Lord!" And I think he means
it.
The car I
came to look at needs a new battery, and the mechanic
says it will be a day or two before he gets around to it.
As I drive home slowly on the back streets, I realize
that as of tomorrow, it will be two months since the
accident, and it's still not resolved.
April
7, 2004
The settlement check from the insurance company
arrives in the mail the same day that my 17 year old Nova
decides it has had enough and goes to the great junkyard
in the sky.
Hidden
among the other minor prophets of the the Old Testament
is Habakkuk, who reminds his people that their
God hasn't forgotten them and "though He
lingers, He will not delay." I decide that
maybe I should count my blessings. I might have to walk
to work tomorrow, but at least I can walk.
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