In February 2001, I was sitting, not moving, at a red light at the intersection of Elmwood and Main, in Columbia, when a car plowed into the back of Priscilla.
The car was driven by a guy who was drunk and unlicensed, and there were 6 witnesses who stuck around to talk to the police. The driver was actually taken away in handcuffs, as were the other passengers. I figured this was a slam-dunk.
But one should never assume anything with insurance companies.
The driver that night was not the owner of the car. The owner was IN the car at the time of the accident, was even one of the guys arrested . . . but the owner's insurance company refused to take responsibility for the accident, because, and I quote:
"The owner of the car says he never gave the driver permission to drive the car. Therefore, the owner's insurance agency cannot take responsibility for the accident."
So, let me get this straight: Six witnesses all saw what happened. The driver was drunk and had no license. The owner was IN THE CAR AT THE TIME OF THE ACCIDENT. But my insurance had to pay for it because the owner said the driver did not have his permission to drive the car WHILE HE WAS IN THE CAR WITH HIM.
It ended up being quite expensive, because my insurance company required me to leave my car at the body shop while the two insurance companies negotiated for a month over who would pay for what. I had to drive a rental car the whole time, to get back and forth from work. Then, my insurance company had to pay for both my rental car and the accident.
So my rental company dropped me. For an accident that was not my fault.
Oh, how I love insurance companies.
I just hope this doesn't turn into that. It makes me nervous that there's "uncertainty" (I'm being kind) about the owner of the car, and that they didn't give me insurance info.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Fun with traffic
Today I was running a brief errand, very near our house. I was on Ellenwood, a two-lane road that connects two major streets; this road runs through our neighborhood.
I drove down Ellenwood toward Arlington. When I neared the point where Ellenwood ends at Arlington, there was a car some few car-lengths in front of me, nearing the stop sign where Ellenwood and Arlington meet. The car, let's say a Hyundai, stopped at the stop sign. I stopped to wait for a few pedestrians to cross the street; they crossed between the back of the Hyundai (which was still at the stop sign) and the front of my car. They were not in a crosswalk, by the way; this is basically a residential neighborhood, with a lot of foot traffic, and no one pays attention to where the crosswalks are.
Once the pedestrians had reached the other side of the street, I pulled up behind the Hyundai, which was still there. I wasn't a car-length away from it, but I wasn't right behind it, either. I was a good distance from the Hyundai.
There was traffic on Arlington, so I waited for the Hyundai to turn right. Suddenly, the Hyundai just . . . backed into me. And I don't mean a little "tap." They didn't accelerate or anything, but they hit my car pretty hard.
And then drove off down Arlington.
Their flight was not the fastest one, though, so I was able to memorize their license plate as they pulled out onto Arlington. I couldn't pull out right behind them, because another group of cars came, but as soon as I could, I turned right onto Arlington as well. I called 911 as I drove down to the next light and turned onto another residential street so that I could gather my wits and wait for the police to arrive.
Well, imagine my surprise when I saw the Hyundai there; they were sitting on the street I'd just turned onto, and they were preparing to get back out onto Arlington. But they couldn't go anywhere, because the traffic was so backed up at the light. So I jumped out of the car and started writing down their plate information.
The passenger, a young man probably in his early 20s, got out then, and came over to me. I doubt he would have gotten out of the car had I not gotten out and started writing things down.
He asked if I had any damage to my car; I did, and I showed it to him. The passenger gave me a piece of paper with a name and a phone number; the name on the paper ("Joe Brown") was his brother, he said; the phone number was Joe's, and Joe owned the car.
By this time, the driver, an older man, was out of the car. I got the older man's name ("Bob Smith") off of his driver's license. I wrote down "driver" next to it. I asked them for their insurance; they said they didn't have it with them, and reiterated that the car was Joe's. They asked if I'd called my insurance company; I said no. Before I could tell them that I'd called the police, they said that they had to go, they were going to a wedding . . . but that had to be the most casual wedding I've seen in a long, long time. They rushed off, reiterating that this was Joe's car, and that was Joe's phone number, I should get ahold of him. Fine, whatever. I had Bob's (the driver's) name, I had the owner's name and telephone number, I had the license plate info. I was not happy, but I couldn't imagine physically subduing these guys.
I'd called Curtis, and he came to be with me, as our house is about 2 minutes away.
Then the police got there. And things got interesting.
They got the information I'd been given, they got my info, and after filling out some paperwork, they asked me, "Now, who exactly was the driver?"
"Bob Smith."
"And did the passenger give you his name?"
"No."
"And who did they tell you the owner of the car was?"
"Joe Brown."
"Actually, no. Bob Smith is the owner."
"Wait, what?"
"The driver is the owner. When we did a search, we learned that Bob Smith is the owner. We're going to look further into who this Joe Brown is supposed to be."
Well, that's a hell of a thing.
Further bulletins as events warrant. I have to call my insurance agent now. Mostly I just don't want this to turn into another version of an accident that happened in 2001. Which will be in another installation . . .
I drove down Ellenwood toward Arlington. When I neared the point where Ellenwood ends at Arlington, there was a car some few car-lengths in front of me, nearing the stop sign where Ellenwood and Arlington meet. The car, let's say a Hyundai, stopped at the stop sign. I stopped to wait for a few pedestrians to cross the street; they crossed between the back of the Hyundai (which was still at the stop sign) and the front of my car. They were not in a crosswalk, by the way; this is basically a residential neighborhood, with a lot of foot traffic, and no one pays attention to where the crosswalks are.
Once the pedestrians had reached the other side of the street, I pulled up behind the Hyundai, which was still there. I wasn't a car-length away from it, but I wasn't right behind it, either. I was a good distance from the Hyundai.
There was traffic on Arlington, so I waited for the Hyundai to turn right. Suddenly, the Hyundai just . . . backed into me. And I don't mean a little "tap." They didn't accelerate or anything, but they hit my car pretty hard.
And then drove off down Arlington.
Their flight was not the fastest one, though, so I was able to memorize their license plate as they pulled out onto Arlington. I couldn't pull out right behind them, because another group of cars came, but as soon as I could, I turned right onto Arlington as well. I called 911 as I drove down to the next light and turned onto another residential street so that I could gather my wits and wait for the police to arrive.
Well, imagine my surprise when I saw the Hyundai there; they were sitting on the street I'd just turned onto, and they were preparing to get back out onto Arlington. But they couldn't go anywhere, because the traffic was so backed up at the light. So I jumped out of the car and started writing down their plate information.
The passenger, a young man probably in his early 20s, got out then, and came over to me. I doubt he would have gotten out of the car had I not gotten out and started writing things down.
He asked if I had any damage to my car; I did, and I showed it to him. The passenger gave me a piece of paper with a name and a phone number; the name on the paper ("Joe Brown") was his brother, he said; the phone number was Joe's, and Joe owned the car.
By this time, the driver, an older man, was out of the car. I got the older man's name ("Bob Smith") off of his driver's license. I wrote down "driver" next to it. I asked them for their insurance; they said they didn't have it with them, and reiterated that the car was Joe's. They asked if I'd called my insurance company; I said no. Before I could tell them that I'd called the police, they said that they had to go, they were going to a wedding . . . but that had to be the most casual wedding I've seen in a long, long time. They rushed off, reiterating that this was Joe's car, and that was Joe's phone number, I should get ahold of him. Fine, whatever. I had Bob's (the driver's) name, I had the owner's name and telephone number, I had the license plate info. I was not happy, but I couldn't imagine physically subduing these guys.
I'd called Curtis, and he came to be with me, as our house is about 2 minutes away.
Then the police got there. And things got interesting.
They got the information I'd been given, they got my info, and after filling out some paperwork, they asked me, "Now, who exactly was the driver?"
"Bob Smith."
"And did the passenger give you his name?"
"No."
"And who did they tell you the owner of the car was?"
"Joe Brown."
"Actually, no. Bob Smith is the owner."
"Wait, what?"
"The driver is the owner. When we did a search, we learned that Bob Smith is the owner. We're going to look further into who this Joe Brown is supposed to be."
Well, that's a hell of a thing.
Further bulletins as events warrant. I have to call my insurance agent now. Mostly I just don't want this to turn into another version of an accident that happened in 2001. Which will be in another installation . . .
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